Showing posts with label September 11. Show all posts
Showing posts with label September 11. Show all posts

Sunday, May 03, 2009

Radio Memories: Days Of Victory

Every Sunday we try to make time for some Radio Memories, half-forgotten echoes from the dearly departed art form known as radio drama, the “theater of the mind”. The idea for this week's post arrived in an unexpected way...

A few days ago, I couldn't help myself from eavesdropping on some young people as they talked about an older relative, perhaps a grandfather. "His life changed forever when Japan attacked Pearl Harbor on December 11 1941”, one said earnestly. I smiled at her mixing up the old December date with a grim one from September 2001, but the smile was short-lived as it occured to me how much of her short life had been lived under the shadow of the War on terror.

She would have been so young that awful morning over 7 years ago when the world watched the unforgettable sight of planes slamming in to buildings. Conceivably, she may no longer remember what it’s like to live in a Sept 10 world; for her generation, the world may seem to have always been at war. As hard as it is for us, at our age, to imagine returning to a world at peace (such as it was, anyway), what must such change mean to the young..?

These thoughts led me to look for clues in another war fought a few generations before, one that did seem to have an ending, for the children who lived in its shadow. One day in 1945, their world changed, for the better, and the war's climax brought a sense of concluding relief as palpable as was it’s horrifying beginning.

May we and our children one day experience our own version of a VE-Day..?

Monday morning on May 7, 1945, anyone listening to the radio would have heard a succinct bulletin interrupt their usual programs with the urgent news that Germany had surrendered to the Allies, the US, Great Britain and the Soviet Union, “no strings attached”. As it turned out, this was an unauthorized leak: while German forces had surrendered this time (unlike the false, premature reports broadcast the week before), the Allies intended to announce the news only after the surrender was to be formalized the following day. A curious game of words ensued for the rest of that Monday, as no government officials stepped forward to confirm the morning broadcast, forcing the nation into an awkward celebratory limbo.

The next day, May 8th, President Truman woke up from his first night actually spent in the White House since the passing of President Roosevelt three weeks before, and took to the radio airwaves at 9:00 AM to make the news official: there was now Victory in Europe. The announcement must have had a special significance for the new President, since that day, May 8th, also happened to be… Truman’s 61st birthday. His speech was followed by a re-broadcast of the short-wave message delivered by his counterpart in Great Britain, Prime Minister Winston Churchill.

As we approach VE-Day’s anniversary next week, I thought it would be helpful to offer a forty-minute compilation of four separate radio broadcasts that, together, may hopefully put ourselves into the place of those who were learning of the kind of good news we struggle to keep faith in, in our own time.

I’m book-ending a child’s view of VE-Day with the broadcasts that the “grown-ups” would have heard announcing the curtain call for the War in Europe. First, we’ll hear the initial, unauthorized Monday morning broadcast that the war in Europe had come to an end. Then, two children’s adventure programs, broadcast late afternoon Tuesday, on VE Day itself. Finally, the forementioned speeches by President Truman and Prime Minister Churchill.

The two children’s series are the serialized adventures of movie cowboy Tom Mix, in Tom Mix Ralston Straight Shooters, and the radio adaptation of Milton Caniff’s action-packed comic strip Terry and the Pirates. Both were daily 15-minute broadcasts, Monday through Friday. For the most part such shows were broadcast live in those days, allowing for some last-minute script rewrites should events warrant them…as that day’s war news surely did.

As part of the closing commercial for Ralston cereal, Tom Mix tries to put the day’s confusing events into perspective for his young faithful listeners:

“You know, a lot of you Straight Shooters can hardly remember when there wasn’t a war goin’ on. You’ve grown up with words like “commando”, and “ration stamps”, and “V-Mail”. Now today, somethin’ big has happened. Germany, Hitler’s Germany, has surrendered.
But all of you Straight Shooters know that this thing called “war” isn’t nearly over. It means that the folks in your family are going to have to keep right on at their war jobs, and every one of us will have to keep workin’ and fightin’ until there isn’t any war left, anywhere in the world.
Someday this old world is goin’ to belong to you boys and girls. But it’s up to all of us to pitch in now, and make it the kind of a world worth havin’.”

In digesting the possibility of peace in our time, maybe we should take a cue from Tom, and envision one bite-sized morcel at a time, rather than a sudden, transcendent gorging. Change is best understood as it is often experienced: slowly, as a series of "middles" more than a climactic ending. As Time magazine described it that fateful week:

[F]or ordinary people, the war in Europe ended—not when they heard the hoarse voice of the radio, nor when they saw paper blizzards falling between skyscrapers, nor even when they ate their first food in freedom—but slowly and silently, by degrees, somewhere in each man's heart.


Previous Radio Memories posts:

You Are There: The Capture Of John Wilkes Booth
Fort Laramie: War Correspondent
CBS Radio Workshop: Son Of Man
Great Gildersleeve: Easter Rabbits
Dimension X: Time And Time Again
An American In England: Women Of Britain
Cavalcade Of America: Bob Hope Reports
The March Of Time: Feb 10 1938 broadcast
Hear It Now: Coming Home From The Korean War
Escape: Vanishing Lady
Rogers Of The Gazette: Rewinding The Town Clock

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

9-11: falling towers

This is the first time since the fateful attack in 2001 that September 11 has landed once again on a Tuesday. I thought it might be useful to write about what that day was like for each of us, personally, partly to help us each carry forward a more accurate memory of that day, as well as helping us understand how we may have been changed by it.

For my wife and I, the memory of the attack on Tuesday Sept 11 is paired with an awful memory from Monday Sept 10th. That was a day of personal tragedy, as it was the day that we lost our baby, a day that seemed to last forever; we didn’t get home from the hospital until well after midnight on that Monday evening. There didn’t seem to be any great hurry to get to bed, any great need to get up again at any point the following morning. There was just a focus on the present, each holding the other, to remind ourselves of what we still had. I had already arranged, before I rushed home early Monday afternoon, to be able to take the Tuesday off, so that our plan was to simply make it through the following day without too much anguish. One day at a time until wounds were healed, life would go on, in new ways… Or so we kept telling ourselves as we drifted into the escape of a welcome slumber.

Our sleep was interrupted by an unexpected phone call, which turned out to be from my mother-in-law. She knew that we didn’t have television, and had guessed, correctly, that we wouldn’t be aware of what had been going on that morning, in New York City.
The phone was on my wife’s side of the bed that day so she took the call; after an ominous silence, she told me, in the very quiet and monotone voice that she uses when things are seriously wrong, to turn on the radio, that the United States was under attack.

In those days the radio was set to 770 KTTH from Seattle, and we heard Peter Jennings, through an ABC news feed, describing the aftermath of the second airplane hitting the World Trade Center. When he started complaining that president Bush was a coward for not manning the anti-aircraft guns himself (or whatever Jennings had in mind as his definition of “presidential courage”), we had our fill of him and switched to a local Vancouver radio station for the rest of the morning, and the week. The programming seemed to be less anti-American than usual, and certainly less anti-American than the American mainstream media station I had left behind.

My wife kept wanting to know: why? I kept wanting to know: what next? To this day I feel a moment of trepidation when I wake up in the morning and reach for the radio; what has happened since I went to sleep? That terrible week back in 2001, every time I turned on the radio there seemed to be a fresh horror to deal with. It was with great relief, several days after Sept 11, that I could turn on the radio and hear a genuine commercial. Then, as today, if I turn on the radio in the morning and hear the sound of commercials, it causes a wave of reassurance to sweep over me; if life is uneventful enough to allow for commercials then life goes on indeed.

I remember being worried by the potential scope of the attacks… I expected that the attacks would be going on all day, all week, like the Blitz in World War II. It didn’t seem sensible that there would only be a single blow, however large its scope… what could be gained by that, except a punishing retaliation?

I had read newspapers and news magazines for years, in addition to a constant diet of radio programming, inheriting my father's nose for news. (also inhering my father's aversion for television) I had come to think of myself as reasonably well-informed about the world around me... suddenly I wondered why I could be so surprised, why seemingly we could all be so surprised by the existence of this parallel world that lurked in the shadows of the one described to us by the Official Storytellers of the media.
I realized, not for the first or last time in my life, that I was foolishly ignorant, not wisely informed. I needed to re-evaluate everything that I took for granted to be true, and re-educate myself about how things really were. Islam no longer seemed the exotic and colourful theology I thought it to be, obviously there was something dangerous and deadly going on of which I was completely unaware. I remember a video surfacing of bin laden hoping that his strikes against us would spark a curiosity about islam. Well, he was certainly right about that: we could not afford to not be curious any more.
My tower of personal ignorance was knocked to the ground that terrible day. I had to rebuild my world view all over again, from scratch.

That Tuesday was mostly spent on the phone with family, as there was need to update them about the grim news concerning the baby, because of pre-established travel plans that would now have to be cancelled. I remember how talking about it all in the shadow of the attack made the loss feel as if it happened years before, rather than mere hours. It also made our nightmare easy to talk about; there didn’t seem to be much justification in feeling sorry for ourselves on a day when so many others were mourning far worse tragedies than our own.

Before Sept 10th I knew that there was a risk that we'd lose the baby, but since that wasn't the result I wanted I refused to consider it. Sept 11th was a shock of similar kind; before that fateful day I felt western civilization to be an imperishable triumph, an unassailable fortress of splendor, destined to stand without my having to do much to sustain it. I didn't feel in any way responsible for adding to its continuity; I would just live, like a parasite I guess, off the accomplishments of others before me, and around me. The attacks had come to make me see all too clearly how these accumulated blessings may be lost as suddenly as our baby had been.

My towering ingratitude for the blessings of western civilization was therefore also knocked to the ground that awful day. I learned how to become deeply appreciative for all the bounty that we live with, all the opportunities we possess to keep adding to the majesty of our citadel of liberty, one capable of a progress as infinite as humanity itself. And I came to feel the sudden weight of the obligation I had lived with, but refused to see: to act in ways that may safeguard this legacy for another generation, and beyond.

Today, as on that day, I felt determined to pick myself up when life knocks us down and continue to build a life worth living... that this is in fact the very meaning of life: to rise up again, when there is every incentive to lay where one had fallen.
To choose the Hope of the rise, not the Terror of the fall.
I began to see the religious faith I had long abandoned, in those terms, as the crutch to help us in our glorious climb upward and onward. The despicable selfishness that had so long weighed me down, fell away as I began to know an attachment to something far greater than myself. Though blind to them before I could now see the expectations placed upon me, not all that different from the weighty sense of responsibility I felt on the happy day I was told I would soon be a father: somebody you don't yet know is counting on you to become the best possible version of yourself.

Of all the memories I have of the falling of all the towers that day, I remember feeling entrusted to live a Good life, Sept 11 establishing yet again the inescapable truth that one person can make a difference… for good or evil.

Remembering September 11

I have been asked by my colleague to write an account of my memories of September 11, 2001. But 9/11, or 11 September, 2001 as I once would have written such a historical date, did not greatly take place for me on that fateful day. Every day since there has been a building awareness of the meaning of that day that transcends my memory of my mental anguish and confusion on 9/11. My intellectual life has changed greatly in six years, along with the development of a much clearer understanding of our place in history. That's a sign, or many signs, that 9/11 was much more of a transformative event than I could know on the day it happened.

I don't recall exactly when I was drawn out of my lonely study in some abstract point of humanistic inquiry by the news from another scholar that "someone is crashing planes into New York and Washington". The great event had already unfolded sufficiently that when I started watching tv the towers had already fallen and the endless televisual recapitulations of the scene were underway, such that the distinction, which in any unfolding event is always already somewhat blurred, between the experience of an unfolding event and of the signs (the iconic actions and images) by which it will be remembered in future, became almost instantly blurred for me.

I had no doubts about the evident evil of the scene. But, predisposed to having a guilty conscience, I became confused by what I soon started to think was my abject fascination with the violence being replayed before my eyes, my inability for quite some time to pull myself away from the tv and start to think. But think about what? The lack of a clear answer to this question disturbed me. I did not have a great intellectual framework in which to place terrorism - terrorism was to my mind largely a question of what horrible losers, with ridiculously grandiose political ideas, do, the kind of people on whom spending great intellectual effort was, it then seemed, not appropriate. So, was being glued to the tv some kind of desire on my part to witness banal evil? As many said that day, it was if we had been prepared to view such scenes by the violent visual narratives that the film and television media regularly put before us.

When I finally left the tv, and got on my bike, I rediscovered some familiar rhythms, and some return to normalcy as I watched the cars to preserve my own street safety. At one point in the ride, I was on a bike path and could let my eyes linger on the occupants of the vehicles, driving home after such a day. I was trying to read faces behind the windshields. That wasn't easy to do, though I sensed a good deal of shock and inwardness, until one man, roughly my age, caught my eyes with an intense stare, as if there were something wrong, or perhaps brutally necessary, with our catching each other's attentions in this mundane scene which was, of course, no longer just a mundane scene.

But as I say, 9/11, as a transcendent event that changed my consciousness, such that I could never see the world in the same way again, really began to happen in the days that followed. I remember the impromptu debates in the media: those cautiously deferring great pronouncement on what the event meant, vs. those declaring that we must recognize that there is something fundamentally wrong with the Islamic world and religion, vs. those committed pacifists who pronounced on the need for America to turn the other cheek. I remember the fear promoted by supposedly wise and objective scholars that this was a "Sarajevo" moment, i.e., harking back to the spark that ignited World War I, an event that was likely to cause reactions and counter-reactions, inexorably pushing the world's people into some horrible war, some great clash of civilizations.

I remember emailing my one New York friend, a doctor, to see if he was ok, and him telling me of how his hospital's entire staff had mobilized and then waited and waited for the injured to treat, the injured who, with one or two exceptions, never materialized. Our conversation soon turned to moral or ethical questions. My very liberal Jewish friend had some objection to how a Muslim colleague was treated by someone who obviously just didn't get the point of the evil that had unfolded. I remember talking to a then lapsing Muslim friend in New Jersey who had watched the second plane go into the World Trade Center from his office across the river and how he spoke of his fear for his family. Would he, his white Christian wife, and children, have to flee back to Canada to protect themselves from some horrible vigilante, or even state-supported, "justice"? I remember my mother's reports on her cousin who lives on Capitol Hill in Washington, of how their house had been surrounded by police protecting their neighbor, a high government official. The next day that cousin's son-in-law, a tough guy with a Jewish sense of persecution and survival, i.e. someone not easily fazed by a few terrorists, and someone obviously less confused than was I, thought this would be the moment to get into the Washington real estate market and find the city center home he could never until then afford. But, alas, they have since settled for the suburbs, in part I suppose because Washingtonians were less fearful than he supposed.

While I know from history that ordinary life necessarily goes on amidst horrible wars, I have never been entirely clear on the "group psychology", or anthropology, that allows millions stubbornly to continue their lives in cities like Washington and New York, in face of a threat that seems to me considerable, the evident desire on the part of millions of (would be) Jihadis to destroy those cities, along with Los Angeles, Tel Aviv and other places of Jewish and/or American importance. If I lived there would I refuse to show cowardice and continue on? Or, especially if I had a family to protect, would I consider relocating? Are many people living in denial?

This is only one variant of a question I frequently ask. In what sense did 9/11 happen? An event that does not change how people think or live is not really an event (as opposed to an occurrence, something forgettable). There is a great desire in America and abroad for people to deny, in some sense, that 9/11 happened, at least in the way it happened. Most commonly this takes the view that 9/11 was an "inside job", something which apparently 36% of Americans believe. People believe this because they don't want to turn their minds to the real implications of 9/11, to a world transformed by the realization that the greatest evil in this world comes not from either the powerful in the West, or from the poor and downtrodden in the Third World, but rather from a resentful middle ground, from people with one foot in modern and one in traditional societies, from people who have had reason both for modern ambitions and for failure or disappointment with the hard, competitive and individualizing realities of a global free market economy.

The largely irrational resentment that fuels anti-Americanism and the corresponding knee-jerk reaction that defends the (now Islamic-led) forces of traditionalism and anti-Americanism, is what 9/11 conspiracy theories act to veil. If 9/11 didn't happen like the common wisdom says, then we don't have to come to terms with the reality of Jihad and Sharia that people like Osama bin Laden keep tying to tell us about. He and his claims of responsibility for 9/11 can't get no respect from the "truthers" today.

Then there is the problem of finding Muslims, even in North America with all the freedoms we enjoy, who will admit that there is a problem within Islam, that their religion, rightly or not, is producing a disproportionate share of the world's terrorists, and some of the most brutally psychotic ones at that. It is almost impossible to find a "moderate Muslim" who will address in a frank and honest manner what the Koran and the life of Mohammed seem to say should be the fate of the infidel - i.e. to become a dhimmi or to die by the sword of the Jihad. Rather, we hear over and over that America and Israel are the real sources of the world's political problems, as if the evident conflict between the forces of a globalizing modernity and the forces of traditional society did not allow of serious debate, the good and bad guys being beyond doubt, or as if the claim that America is the leading force of freedom and civilization in this world were not evident.

There is the problem of the Western left, including much of the American Democratic party, who would rather blame George Bush for the world's problems, pronouncing, for example, with little or no reason or evidence besides invocations of some great crime at Guantanamo Bay - as if it were a plain fact of day that all informed and rational people know - that the Bush administration has engaged in a concerted and serious denial of the American constitution and the liberties it protects. The reason why so many people have the courage to publicly denounce Bush, if he really acts like Hitler, is something beyond my humble intellect.

I trust my readers do not need to have these mental conceits rebutted. Rather, what we need to address and what we we will continue to address here at Covenant Zone, is the question of why, for so many people, there is a great need or desire to think as if 9/11 didn't happen in the way it happened and that the West need not to be engaged in a "global war on terrorism".

Many conservatives also decry the idea of a war against terrorism. How can one be at war with a method of war - terrorism - they ask? Why can't the real enemy be named? We are at war with Islam, or perhaps with political Islam, or fundamentalist Islam.

But, I would reply, the point behind President Bush's GWOT slogan is that the terrorists neither represent any kind of legitimate political entity or state that presently exists, nor any that can conceivably exist, all fantasies of a renewed Caliphate aside. We are indeed at war with a utopian and apocalyptic movement whose means and end, most simply, is terror, precisely because it has no realistic proposal for the governance and economic support of the world's over six billion people.

They have no idea how to destroy the West and still feed people, even "their own" populations who have lived and grown for a couple of generations in the relative abundance and medicine provided by Western science. And so the terrorists and their ideological sympathizers, be they Islamic of Western leftists, pose a real threat to life and civilization. Their victory and utopian agendas, if seriously attempted, would necessarily entail the deaths of many people on the planet, and if successful, it would be a brutal Taleban-like rule for the few survivors, not some glorious Caliphate

If we are to remember the 3000 brutally murdered on 11 September, 2001, if we are to judge properly the murderers and not fall into the moral evil of criticizing, for the murders, the great nation in which the murders took place, as if America were somehow to blame for a revenge taken on it, we must remember what happened and why it took place in service of the fantasy ideology of a utopian death cult whose end requires most of us to die. If we are not working seriously to understand this and related fantasy ideologies, then for us, too, 9/11 didn't really happen.

For the rest of our lives we should build a deeper understanding of what did indeed happen so that we may make some contribution to defeating the evil desires behind the event's unfolding. Otherwise, we deserve a hellfire fiercer than the flames that brought many on 9/11 to the quick decision to jump from great heights to their certain deaths. We now have the luxury of thought and contemplation. Let's use it well.

Prime Minister Stephen Harper on September 11

Prime Minister Stephen Harper is visiting "down under", in Australia. He has addressed the Australian Parliament, and has this to say on islam's war on the West:
...
September 11, 2001, was truly a day that shook the world.
Six years on, the horrific images from that morning still evoke anger, sorrow and – as intended – terror.
The buildings may have been American, but the targets were every one of us: every country and every person who chooses tolerance over hatred, pluralism over extremism, democracy over tyranny.
We have been struck again and again in London, Madrid, India and many other places, including, of course, Bali.
Canadians mourned your losses, and we redoubled our resolve to stand with you, because two dozen of our citizens died in New York on 9-11. And seventy Canadian soldiers and one of our diplomats have fallen in Afghanistan – as well as a Canadian carpenter, murdered by the Taliban after he built a school for the children of a remote Afghan village.
So both our countries have been bloodied by terror.
And both of us are doing our part to confront and defeat it.
In Afghanistan and elsewhere, both our countries are committed to working together, As Prime Minister Howard said in his address to our Parliament last year “not only for the betterment of Australia and Canada, but for the betterment of all the peoples of the world.”
This cause is noble and necessary. Because, as 9-11 showed, if we abandon our fellow human beings to lives of poverty, brutality and ignorance, in today’s global village their misery will eventually and inevitably become our own.
...