IN REMEMBRANCE
Ohio State commemorates 9/11

Dean Nancy Hardin Rogers, Moritz College of Law

A year ago, we realized that we were one people.

Where were you when you heard the news? Were you here? In another country? Whether here or elsewhere, we were one people numbed with grief, as we heard that hundreds upon hundreds of persons perished in Washington, New York and Pennsylvania.

Whom did you call last September 11? We were one people as we found out who was safe and who had died, who was grieving personally.

We were one people as we were moved by individual stories and listened to what people said in their last calls home. Persons just like us had made brave and grim decisions to place the lives of others above their own. They rushed armed hijackers in a flight over Pennsylvania. They climbed the stairs of a burning tower. Like us, those who helped and those who died were rich and poor, of many races, nationalities, and religions, . . . one people.

As the hours went by, we heard that the attackers had planned carefully to achieve a large death toll. We were chilled by the news that in some parts of the world people greeted the news of the attacks with cheers. When we realized that terrorist attacks like this might happen again, we were one people at risk.

Millions of us wanted to help – we stepped forward as one person to give blood, far more than was needed. So much money was sent to help that some still has not been distributed. For many of us, the desire to help resolved itself in gestures of support, like flying flags or wearing ribbons.

On the afternoon of September 11, 2001, pettiness and division among us almost disappeared. We shared grief, pride at our connection with brave people, a loss of our sense of security at home, and a deep desire to help. We could see clearly on that day that what we shared was far, far greater than what divided us.

And we were right.

A year later, that truth has not changed. What we share is far, far greater than what divides us.

Much, though, seems to divide us. We now have internal disagreement about the best course of action. How can we prevent future attacks? Should we change our guarantees regarding privacy and due process of law? Will that assist in apprehending terrorists or bringing them to justice? At what cost? Should the United States invade Iraq? Should the nation await a decision by the United Nations?

Those debates have mostly been conducted with respect, so far. But warning signs of division are emerging. We have known debates that led to national division, and even to internal violence. The Vietnam War provides one painful example. Emotions and stakes run high now, as then.

While we seek to avoid division, it would be wrong to avoid the disagreement and the debate. History also provides examples of government mistakes when people did not press a point, fearful of creating division during wartime. A painful example is the government’s decision during World War II to imprison Americans of Japanese descent. How we now wish that people had effectively persuaded the government not to imprison those persons.

The challenge is to maintain the strong debate, yet try our best to limit its divisiveness. That requires some of us to focus on the process, and not just the substance, of the debate. Here are two suggestions for the process.

The first relates to blaming. Blaming is a national pastime. Enron goes bankrupt. Can this be blamed on the Republicans? Can this be pinned on the Democrats?

It is not surprising that in the midst of analyzing the events before and after September 11 in order to prepare better for future attacks, we have begun to blame each other. We are blaming people who wanted to preserve peace. Who responded slowly? Who failed to recognize a danger sign? And the counter charges: Who sought to take advantage of the nation’s anger for political gain? Blame. And counter-blame.

We have much to gain in preparing for the future. Yet, we have little to gain in pointing out who, with the best intentions, made mistakes.

The analysis helps; the blaming hurts on balance. Can we stop the blaming in order to reduce the division?

The second suggestion for process relates to vilifying. When we disagree strongly with a position, we gain much as a democratic nation by exchanging views. Vigorous debate is a privilege provided by our freedom. Expressing our views and listening to others are our obligations as participants in a democracy. We are in an ideal position to do so at Ohio State University, protected by guarantees of academic freedom and in an environment that promotes discussion.

In times of deep emotion, however, we lose more than we gain when we attack the motives of those who take positions we don’t like. You have heard it start: Someone charges that one position is motivated by a desire to appear decisive, or by a desire to trample the rights of criminal defendants, or to appease the trial lawyers, or because of contributions from oil interests, or because of contributions from supporters of Israel. Even when the charge of impure motive may be accurate, these charges can create such divisiveness that our ability to listen to the substance of the debate is destroyed. We become divided into camps.

A democratic nation gains from a strong debate but not from vilification. Can we set aside our natural tendencies to attack both position and motive, and focus on the substance of the position?

The nation and the world face important choices. The choices involve basic rights, security, and war or peace. The challenge is to disagree without the internal blame and vilification that in the past have torn the nation apart. If we fail to keep the debates focused on substance, the attacks will have not only wounded this nation but also succeeded in setting the nation against itself.

A year ago today, life was in earnest. We saw priorities clearly. We knew that we were one people.

We’re here to honor thousands who died a year ago, many with bravery that continues to astound us. The anniversary should also remind us that the determination that we need pales in comparison to the resolve they demonstrated. Our task is to retain the clear-headed sense of priorities that we had a year ago while urging our government to make the best decisions.

If we are willing to do this, we have the chance that we longed to have a year ago, the chance to help. We can help by being the people who counsel respect, even as we disagree on fundamental issues. We can be the people who remember the lesson we learned so well, at such a cost, a year ago – that what we have in common is greater than what divides us.