Former Democratic presidential nominee Sen. John Kerry, left, differentiated himself from other politicians of the time by dialing down post-9/11 military-themed rhetoric on the “war” on terror.
In the poker game of psychological warfare on which terrorism depends, the September 11 plotters cleaned out the house. In attacks greater than the human imagination could fathom, the kamikaze terrorists enslaved an entire population (the world also), with images of destruction and horror that would soon come to unhinge all who saw them, and they were incessantly repeated. This in turn created a kind of collective post-traumatic stress disorder, for the terrorists a masterstroke come true.
No event in the modern era has so suddenly and thoroughly shaken the planet. So much so, in fact, that political leaders later would manipulate the legacy of color-coded terror alerts to install surefire dread into populations as yet unconvinced of the perils of COVID. It worked, and the damage caused by that relentless trepidation still lingers.
The fact stands that for adults thirty-five and older, footage of the Twin Towers, first stricken, then collapsing, remains indelibly alarming. So do the suicide plotters themselves, at the time swiftly portrayed as goblin Arabs with strange names, figures from an alien planet who were eager to court doomsday. From that moment forward, prompted by hysterical mass media and a presidential administration itself terrified, all those with Arab-sounding names, American citizens or not, fell under the paranoid scrutiny of a public anxious to find scapegoats — and to lynch them. This witch hunt cloaked in the guise of homeland protection would lead to the invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq, costly wars that vindicated no one. Out of these wars came the ISIS group, soon to cause further havoc.
. . . prompted by hysterical mass media and a presidential administration itself terrified, all those with Arab-sounding names . . . fell under the paranoid scrutiny of a public anxious to find scapegoats — and to lynch them.
These events and this pathology underpin America’s response to terrorism on its own soil. One event immediately suggests others to come, and images of the Towers leap to mind. Be afraid, be very afraid is still the mantra of choice. Mass media, and now social media with it, slip backward into a time when peddling fear was an obligation, akin to the tone of Red-Baiting in the 1950s. There has been no relief from this pattern since 2001.
Does this mean the United States should treat lethal acts of terrorism more lightly?
No.
Instead, it needs to dial down alarmism or risk falling back into the abyss of worry that dominated the country in the decade following the New York City and Washington attacks. Terrorist acts are the cousins of random school shootings. They are uniquely horrible but do not necessarily reflect more than what they are, as hints of a broader plot might suggest. Years ago, presidential candidate John Kerry suggested terrorist atrocities be treated as any other criminal act, this intended to curb the public’s inclination toward bogeyman hysteria. No one listened.
They would be wise to do so now.
