Was God the Problem on 9/11?
I reflect on the 9/11 anniversary events I attended in the Chicago area: the Ground Zero 360 exhibit at the Field Museum and a conversation with community leaders at the WBEZ studio sponsored by the Project on Civic Reflection. When asked how we could recapture the unity of those early days after 9/11, one women I met at the Field said, "Turn to God". That got me thinking.
A New Patriotism
I love this picture of Lady Liberty lifting a glass of champagne to toast our sisters (yes, sisters – read on and you’ll see why) in France on the occasion of Bastille Day, July 14. It appeared online accompanying an article in today’s New York Times. In his opinion piece historian David McCullough reflected on the close ties between our two nations. The French have long admired our democratic and independent spirit and we, well here’s how McCullough puts it: “We deck ourselves out in French fashions, French lace, French cuffs, spend small fortunes on French perfume and French luggage. We love French doors, French cheeses. We’ve made French fries a national staple, and in time-honored tradition raise glasses of French Champagne at important celebrations.” Admittedly around the time of the Iraq invasion in 2003, American patriotism involved denigrating the French, including the lamentable “freedom fries” incident, but happily that is a historical aberration. How could we stay angry at the nation that gave us one of our most treasured icons, the Statue of Liberty?
That gift is something I’ve been thinking a lot about lately. At Raven, in anticipation of the tenth anniversary of the 9/11 attacks this September, we are preparing programs and resources that ask Americans to rethink what it means to be patriotic. In the days after 9/11, patriotism meant honoring the memories of those who died by punishing the perpetrators, even if we weren’t sure where they were. It has meant 10 years of war. Love of country has taken on a painfully limited meaning: a willingness to wage war no matter the cost or consequences. When patriotism is so narrowly defined, we do our nation and the world a grave disservice.
The Statue of Liberty represents a different kind of patriotic spirit. In 1865, at a dinner party in France, the topic of discussion was admiration for the democratic government of the United States and the result of our recent civil war, the abolition of slavery. The host, Edouard Rene Lefebvre de Laboulaye, commented that the two nations share such a love of liberty that he called France and the U.S. “the two sisters.” This inspired one of his guests, the architect Frédéric-Auguste Bartholdi, to create a symbol of that sisterhood, the Statue of Liberty now gracing New York Harbor. Its official name captures the intent of the gift, “Liberty Enlightening the World”. The poem written in 1883 by Emma Lazarus that appears at the base of the statue was not part of the original design, but embodies that spirit of inspiration. Her poem is titled “The New Colossus” and refers to an ancient symbol of military might that was one of the seven wonders of the ancient world. Called the Colossus of Rhodes, it stood over 100 feet tall, taller than anything the ancient travelers entering the harbor would have seen before. The sight was intimidating, to say the least.
For Emma Lazarus, the New Colossus, Lady Liberty, would offer a radically different greeting to ships entering the American port. Read those familiar words again to be reminded of the spirit of America she hoped to portray:
The New Colossus
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame,
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore,
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
The nation described in this poem does not try to dominate, defeat or destroy. It has open borders and a fearless spirit, welcoming all who wish to enter. It seems as if we have lost this sense of ourselves, that when we choose to act patriotically we launch wars and build literal and figurative walls along our borders instead of trying to create this sense of welcome. I know, I know – no one wants to welcome terrorists. But as we try to keep them out, we must realize that we are keeping out so many others who wish us no harm. In fact, we risk keeping out America’s new patriots, the immigrants who love their adopted homeland with the passion of a convert. No one is more patriotic than an immigrant who has been welcomed with open arms.
The question that has been haunting me as 9/11/11 approaches is what kind of nation are we fighting for? If while we are busy chasing terrorists abroad and screening for them at our borders, we neglect to live up to Emma Lazarus’ vision, there is really nothing worth fighting for. Even if our soldiers defeat our enemies, we will already have defeated ourselves. I want more than ever for the United States to live up to the faith that mighty woman has in us. If we can, who knows what new sisters we might discover or what unexpected gifts we might receive?