On 9/11 Twenty Years Later 

I wrote the following on 16 September, 2001, in 'The Occasional' -- an early email 'blog'. There is little I would say differently, other than to phrase the reference to Palestinians differently. 

We have all listened to and read thousands of words this week, describing and evaluating the horrifying events of Tuesday. I have been reluctant to add to that great outpouring. For one reason, as seen on the news so often already, there seem no adequate words for people to express either what they have seen, or how they feel about it. For another, I have had no words. 

[My wife’s] reaction in adverse situations is to want to talk to someone. She wrote home to family as soon as she was able, to say she just wanted to be home and with them all right now. And that is a common thread for Americans over here—the desire to be there rather than here, not because we can do anything but because we just need to be with. 

My reaction has always been different than that. I am one who closes down all functioning systems that do not contribute to my attempt to make sense of what has happened, and to find a way forward. This week it has been difficult…to avoid some people who wanted to talk a lot when I needed silence. Even now I am reluctant to speak or write. 

Through the week, there have been key moments, as I am sure for all who have been able to follow events … One moment was an interesting self-discovery. On Wednesday there was an interview on TV with a man standing in a long queue to give blood. When asked if he had lost anyone, he replied that although he had not, he still felt like the attack had been on him, and he had to be out there trying to help, too. I, too, felt like it was an attack on me. Throughout this week, I have heard many others here describe the same feeling—not Americans, but British, and otherwise. This is not just an attack on America, it is felt deeply by Europeans as an attack on all of us. 

Yet—the self-discovery was that I felt this way precisely because I felt it an attack on me as an American. I have reeled physically under the after-shock of violence. 

 There was an early moment of pain, like a knife slicing through my body, when I saw pictures of Palestinians dancing in the streets with joy. Because our Christian friends in Israel are Palestinians, I have long been ‘on their side’ in the need for the greater world to understand what they are suffering; this picture hurt. But, that moment was healed by the picture of Yasser Arafat giving blood to send to America. The symbolic value was priceless. … 

Another moment which brought me close to tears was the service of mourning at Westminster Abbey, which was called by the Queen. The outpouring of support and friendship was moving. The service included the singing by the whole congregation of the Star Spangled Banner. Even hardened political commentators expressed their emotion at the poignancy of the words under these circumstances. 

This was one very big example of what has been the most personal aspect of coping with this week. I was taken by surprise on Wednesday morning when a (fairly large) woman at college came up and threw her arms around me, in sympathy for me at this time. That was only the first instance of what has happened to … me all week. Just as Americans want to go out and do something tangible to help the recovery effort, so people here want to be able to express their feelings in a tangible way. So, they look for an American, so they can say how much they are affected by this outrage. 

At first I was bemused when it happened: why tell me? When I realised the intent, it became harder to deal with—it moved me; but even as I was comforted, it brought emotions to the fore again. [My wife] found it very difficult on Wednesday, working a twelve hour shift. She had to do her job at the same time that every patient and colleague wanted to talk to her about the subject. Then, on Friday all of Europe stopped for three minutes to honour the dead, and grieve for America’s loss. The streets went silent, shops stopped trading, and even young children stood still. 

We, then, have been recipients on [America’s] behalf of this outpouring of care and sympathy. We now pass it on to others. This letter has been focused on our situation. In such vast matters, the specific and the personal seems the only way to explain how we are doing. We add our testimony of pain. 

Thoughts now turn to what will happen next. I fear the rhetoric of war which comes readily to lips right now. Violence has been done. Those men of violence will understand and expect violence in return. They will be prepared for that. What if America, as a Christian nation, reacted contrary to expectation, and responded in Christian love? I wonder what that would mean for us. I wonder what would happen.