Bright September Mornings

On a bright September morning in downtown Manhattan, at an address that symbolized the vigorous beating heart of American capitalism, a terrorist explosion ripped through buildings, shattering glass and ending lives.

It was ninety years ago this next week, on September 16th, that the 1920 Wall Street blast killed 38 and injured hundreds. It was, at that time, the most deadly act of terrorism on American soil in American history. Among the victims were employees of the J.P. Morgan bank, whose iconic limestone headquarters at 23 Wall Street was pockmarked by shrapnel from the dynamite. The explosion was widely presumed to be the work of anarchists lashing out against the financial elite, of which the “House of Morgan” was pre-eminent. The perpetrators were never identified. But Jack Morgan, son of the late renowned J. Pierpont Morgan, and arguably the age’s most powerful financier, had his own pre-determined ideas about who was responsible: “the Jews.”

There’s no mystery about the terrorist attack that struck downtown Manhattan 81 Septembers later. Self-avowed Islamic extremists giddily claimed credit.

In the last month, as arguments raged over the location of a mosque in New York and Rev. Terry Jones of Florida announcement of a Koran-burning parade on this September 11th, I thought of Jack Morgan’s pronouncement. Most of us find Morgan’s accusations heinous today, but there were many times in the last 350 years when Americans hurled such insults at Baptists, Catholics, and Mormons, among others. This summer there did seem to be a growing fear that America’s 2.6 million Muslims are preparing to impose sharia law on their 348 million fellow citizens. Speaking within sight of the Statue of Liberty, Mayor Michael Bloomberg last month asserted that the right of Americans to practice their religion could not be bounded or constrained.

I wondered what Jack Morgan would have made of this occasion. Like us, he was a creature of his time, so it’s doubtful he gave much thought to Muslims or mosques ninety years ago. But a Jewish mayor? Jack may be spinning in his gilded grave.

To New Yorkers and to Americans in 1920, the death toll from the Wall Street blast seemed incomprehensible. “The horrible slaughter and maiming of men and women,” wrote the New York Call, “was a calamity that almost stills the beating of the heart of the people.” That those numbers now seem paltry -- statistics from a past when we counted civilian deaths in dozens instead of thousands -- underscores just how violently our own world has changed.

The destruction of the World Trade Center now stands alone in the annals of horror. But despite the difference in scale, the Wall Street explosion forced upon New York and the nation many of the same questions that we have confronted over the last nine years: How should we respond to violence on this new scale? What is the proper balance between freedom and security? Who, exactly, is responsible for the destruction? How should they pay for it? Is there such a thing as closure?

Maureen Dowd wrote in her column recently, “Some critics have said the ultimate victory for Osama and the 9/11 hijackers would be to allow a mosque to be built near ground zero. Actually, the ultimate victory for Osama and the 9/11 hijackers is the moral timidity that would ban a mosque from that neighborhood. Our enemies struck at our heart, but did they also warp our identity? “

Have any of the screaming critics noticed that there already are two mosques in the same neighborhood — one four blocks away and one 12 blocks away. Should they be dismantled? And what about the liquor stores and strip clubs in the periphery of the sacred ground? Criticizing his fellow Republicans, New Jersey Governor Christie said that while he understood the pain and sorrow of family members who lost loved ones on 9/11, “we cannot paint all of Islam with that brush.”

Governor Christie charged President Barack Obama with trying to turn the issue into a “political football.” As Maureen Dowd said, “But that is not quite right. It already was a political football and the president fumbled it.”

Tomorrow our country commemorates the ninth anniversary of the terrorist’s attacks on 9/11. Once again our nation will come together to remember those who died on that horrible day, that bright September morning. Partisan politics will be set aside, if but for a little while, as all across America we honor those who died needless deaths, the bravery and courage of those who fought to resist the attack, and those who gave their lives in the attempt to save others.

I am sure the media will interview Americans for their responses to 9/11 and the proposed mosque. Someone will say, “I think it’s absurd. I don’t think we should forgive the people who did this to us.” Another will say, “I think that these families need some closure, and the only way they’re going to get closure is to see justice done.” Someone, probably older, will say, “I think it’s overdue. Forgiveness is what we’re supposed to do.” Hopefully someone will say, “I think if we don’t show a little forgiveness then we’re no better than the terrorists that acted upon it in the first place.”

And then we can debate, ponder, volley-ball the nuances and nature of forgiveness.

It is true that in the face of such violent tragedy our instincts take us to a place where retribution, vengeance, and reciprocal violence rules our emotions. We should “give as much as we get!” “Never forget!” “… if you’re against us you’ll feel our wrath!” It is human nature to react in such ways. But vengeance always begets vengeance. Human history bears the scars of the pattern of violent action, followed by violent response, followed by violent action, followed by violent response—an unbroken, unending pattern of vengeance and violence.

Forgiveness??? How hard it is to forgive!

Forgiveness requires that we let go of the past in order to live a future in peace. How hard it is. But it is possible. Let us look at some examples from the recent past, the lifetime of my students here in Jordan:

In 1994 Nelson Mandela was inaugurated as the first black president of South Africa. During the violent years of apartheid preceding his election, Mandela had engaged in armed resistance to the government. As a result he was arrested and spent 27 years in prison. While there he re‐committed himself to non‐violent action. Upon his release he led the negotiations that resulted in South Africa’s first multi‐racial elections and the end to apartheid. While many expected the new government to become the new oppressors, Mandela amazed everyone and set the tone for reconciliation by inviting his former white jailer to be a VIP guest standing with him at his inauguration.

In the year 2000, Elie Wiesel, a survivor of the Nazi concentrations camps, spoke to the German Parliament on the commemoration of the holocaust. On behalf of those murdered and those imprisoned he said to the assembled German leaders, “You have been helpful to Israel after the war, with reparations and financial assistance. But you have never asked the Jewish people to forgive you for what the Nazis did.” Two weeks later, the German parliamentary president, Johannes Rau, went to the Israeli Knesset and did just that.

A man named Andrew Rice lost his brother, David, in the collapse of the World Trade Center on 9/11. In the months to follow, as he worked through his grief, he became convinced that retribution was not the best way to honor his brother’s memory. He joined with groups of other families who had lost loved ones on 9/11 to seek reconciliation personally and nationally. A few months later one of those groups was contacted by the mother of the alleged 20th hijacker, Zacharias Moussaoui, who wanted to meet with some of the families and ask for their forgiveness. In 2002 a small group met secretly to meet Moussaoui’s mother. Mother embraced Mother and Andrew’s tears were added to the huddle as forgiveness was asked for and extended.

In 2006 in a small Amish community in Pennsylvania, a deeply troubled milk truck driver killed five girls and wounded five more in shooting spree that shocked Americans. Even more shocking was the response of the Amish community to the family of the shooter. Amish mothers visited the shooter’s wife and children to offer their condolences and some days later members of the Amish community surrounded the family at the killer’s funeral.

On this bright September morning, let us step back and imagine reconciliation and harmony. How may we better answer the questions that pained Americans in 1920 and 2001 as wisely as possible in 2010?