Daily Record, September 10,2002.
Some thoughts about this September, Septembers past and Septembers yet
to come: Next spring I will be 65 years old. Those who died on Sept. 11,
2001, the vast majority of them, were younger. Most came from the
generation of my children, and some were among my children’s friends and
acquaintances. When they died, we all lost a piece of our future.
Historically and ideologically, America has been a land of futures, the
land of opportunities and dreams. “Give me your tired, your poor,”
wrote Emma Lazarus in 1883. The exhausted, huddled masses were inspired by
their dreams and worked hard. Whatever vitality they had they put to good
use, and they built what we now have and what we are.
Among those nation builders were Lazarus’ own Sephardic ancestors,
who reached New Amsterdam in 1654, just five years after two of my own
Dutch forebears established a new family there. Her ancestors did well,
but by her own time Jews were becoming more and more the objects of
virulent anti-Semitism, especially in Europe. Speaking not for herself,
but for those European Jews, “Until we are all free, we are none of us
free,” Lazarus wrote. “Wherever there is humanity, there is the theme
for a great poem.” By choosing to focus on freedom as an essential
element in the achievement of human equality, on tolerance, and on all
humanity, she gave voice to American values.
When I talked with my classes at Montclair State University on Sept.
12, the day after the attacks, the voices of the students, some of whom
are still very new to this country, echoed the words of Lazarus: They
wanted to live in a society that was tolerant and free, and feared that
reactions to the attacks would prevent this. Clear in their minds were the
lessons of history, including the horrors of the Nazi Holocaust.
These show how intolerance and fear can destroy all liberty and
engender evil by obliterating the humanity of victims and their
oppressors.
I, their professor, also learned early in life that freedom must be
defended. One of my earliest memories is of my father pushing back his
chair at breakfast with a sudden motion. “I’ve decided to enlist in
the Army,” he said as he stood up. He went to war, and I saw very little
of him for the next four years.
Victory arrived, however: V-E Day and V-J Day. When I hear memorial
bells today, I will remember joy as well as sorrow because on those days
victory bells were ringing.
But freedom allows the growth of insecurity, fear and loss of
confidence in others, Schoolchildren of the 1950s remember crouching under
their desks in air raid drills while adults worried about protecting
fallout shelters from the neighbors. Now we worry about anthrax, al-Qaida
— and the people down the street who look different from us. And many
among us worry about secret trials, secret detentions, and loss of civil
rights.
Oppression and denial of human rights for any person diminish all of
us. As Lazarus would no doubt agree, until all are free, and free from
fear, none of us is free.
I asked my husband’s brother in Nablus on the West Bank if he had a
message for the American people on Sept. 11. He and his family live with
tremendous uncertainty and fear, but manage to bear everything with
remarkable forbearance and grace. They were starting on their third
endless month of round-the-clock curfews. I expected him to be a little
defensive, to wonder why I was asking him such a question, but he replied
right away: “Tell the American people,” he said, “We are sorry this
happened. We have no grudge against the American people. We feel for them
and admire them. It is only the policies of their government we do not
like.”
There will never be a time when every human being is entirely free from
fear because liberty is never a sure thing. It must be renewed every day,
even on days when we are frightened, or just tired. We must be tolerant of
individuality, but intolerant of evil. We must work to ensure for others
the liberty, autonomy, and respect we desire for ourselves.
A world freer from war and hatred and racism and oppression than it was
on Sept. 10, 2001 will be the most fitting tribute to the victims of Sept.
11. Ensuring the safety of our own families is important, but hardly
sufficient in their names. We may not all have their talents and vitality
— those are gone — but we can all cooperate, in their memory, to
promote the values that make up the American dream.
Susan Hussein, of Mountain Lakes, is a professor in the department of
classics and general humanities at Montclair State University.