For those who remember a quarter century ago, there was “before 9/11” — and then, after. For anyone under forty years old or so, it may be harder to grasp that we lived with blissful certainty that foreign forces would never attack America. Yes, we casually traipsed through airports (wandering up to the gates without tickets, just to let our young kids watch the planes take off). An enormous surveillance state that combed through data records, recorded our images, and secretly flagged suspected terrorists based on scant information was something out of a sci-fi movie, not an integral part of our government and our reality. We did not have images seared into our minds of people jumping from buildings, towers collapsing, and a city covered in the dirt and dust containing human remains. For a time, Rudy Giuliani was considered sane, even reassuring; George W. Bush’s admonitions about anti-Islamic bias seemed to epitomize mature, decent leadership. And “forever wars” were unimaginable.
The inspiration we experienced from first responders who sacrificed their lives and from young men and women who volunteered to defend their country — plus the reassurance we derived from an outpouring of national unity and everyday expressions of kindness toward fellow Americans — evaporated with breathtaking speed. The recriminations about national security lapses, the aching sorrow for families who had lost loved ones, the lingering health ramifications that were only just fully disclosed, the permanently frenetic news cycle (with chyrons that hyped “breaking news” that was often neither breaking nor news), and the decades of misguided war policy all lingered. The cancer toll alone has been staggering, as the Washington Post reported: “The number of 9/11 survivors who are receiving aid for cancer has roughly tripled over the last five years… In June 2021, 8,870 survivors received aid for cancer treatment, jumping to 27,300 survivors in 2026 — numbers that sharply outpaced cancer claims among first responders.”
The lessons we supposedly “learned” (e.g., don’t substitute macho wish-fulfilment for national security policy; religious stereotyping will lead to violence) were, tragically, not internalized. Some 25 years later, we are bogged down in another fruitless war run by dim-witted, juvenile ideologues, while a cesspool of xenophobia gushes from the White House. Millions of Americans (not to mention feeble, billionaire-owned media outlets) have become acclimated to a crazed cultish party incapable of serious governance. A stark-raving mad president lies about his 9/11 experiences and enriches himself and his family with largesse from Middle East despots.
And yet, we recovered. Democratic presidents ended misguided wars. We rebuilt the Pentagon. The gash in lower Manhattan was filled. Now, “lower Manhattan is roaring back,” the Wall Street Journal reports, with a population that has tripled over 25 years and a vibrant cultural venue. “More than $20 billion in public and private money was spent creating about 10 million square feet of office space, nearly half a million square feet of retail, a transportation hub, the 9/11 Memorial and Museum, and a performing arts center.” And, notwithstanding MAGA bigots’ fury and paranoid billionaire real estate developers forever threatening to leave the city (New Jersey beckons!), a proud Muslim New York mayor enjoys overwhelming approval.
The assaults on U.S. cities and threats to Americans’ freedoms have come not from abroad but from a right-wing, increasingly fascistic movement. Our greatest anxieties stem from an unhinged president, an AI juggernaut, an insatiable oligarchy, and frightfully escalating climate change (multiple wars have not lessened the right’s fixation with fossil fuels).
Steady, professional defense measures — not massive wars — have kept us secure, as Daniel Byman underscores:
Unlike in the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, which involved tens of thousands of U.S. forces, Washington deployed small special operations teams while local partners, trained by U.S. forces and backed by U.S. airpower and intelligence, did most of the fighting (and the dying). … The advent of the armed drone aided this effort, enabling the U.S. military to gather more intelligence and strike more quickly, and with less collateral damage, compared with traditional airpower. Increased cooperation with allied intelligence services helped, as well. Much of this work was mechanical and humdrum—for instance, linking a phone number here to a financial transaction there—but it allowed Washington and its partners to uncover and unravel much of the global jihadi web, arresting members of al-Qaeda and other groups and disrupting their operations around the world.
Ultimately, in declaring a caliphate, the Islamic State made itself “easier to target … [and] also exposed the group’s brutality.” As a result, cooperation with other terrorist groups and nation-states collapsed, and the jihadist movement largely fizzled.
In contrast to the slow, steady progress against jihadist terrorism, the Iran War reminds us that irrational, toxic leadership emboldens our enemies. Trump’s calamitous war “provided Tehran and its proxies with another opening to radicalize and recruit new adherents, particularly global youth vulnerable to extremist ideology,” writes Farah Pandith. Thanks to Trump, “the war has added further fuel to Iran’s use of well-timed, sophisticated online propaganda that utilizes memes, videos, and social media to reinforce decades-old narratives and grievances about Israel and the United States, emphasize taking action against soft targets such as infrastructure and synagogues, and seize increasingly ripe opportunities to sow fear among ordinary citizens.”
Trump’s reckless, unilateral war has exposed our hard power limitations, frayed alliances, and given Iran aid in fostering terrorists’ recruitment. In doing so, he has quite possibly “opened a new chapter in violent extremism for which the United States is not prepared.”
Will this disastrous war finally break the allure of executive supremacy in national security? Perhaps, effective guardrails on executive power, revitalized congressional oversight, control over war-making, and appropriate ridicule for regime-friendly media cheerleaders will make a comeback.
Despite the current regime, through it all, we’ve muddled through 25 years, occasionally even finding ourselves on the right side of history (e.g., rallying to Ukraine in 2022, expanding NATO, electing a Black president), and have periodically recovered our democratic values (e.g., national revulsion and activism over ICE brutality).
The math is important:
There are many more Americans whose actions and values recall our better angels than there are those who would consign us to interminable war, strife, and hatred.
MAGA is in a political death spiral; Democrats are making headway, even in rural strongholds.
We are privileged and blessed to have in our midst thousands of brave Americans who make sacrifices and risk their lives as domestic first responders, military servicemen, and intelligence personnel. We are grateful for those in office and civil society who advocate for sane, sober foreign policy informed by reality and historical experience. We revel in a growing movement of valiant pro-democracy voices who combat domestic fascism. We can rejoice in seeing a righteous resistance arise to combat a movement that demonizes others based on religion or race, promulgates toxic misogyny, and perpetuates ludicrous conspiracy theories.
We salute the undaunted, unafraid, and often unheralded Americans who preserve our freedom and our deepest-held values. And we embrace and console all those still burdened by the grief of 9/11. We will never forget them or the loved ones they have lost.
