Have the terrorists won?

The oldest was in elementary school; the youngest, mere babies, when the killing started…

And with 13 more dead this misbegotten war comes to an end.

I was on Sarnia Street somewhere between the four-way stop at Main and the signal light at Franklin when the bulletin came across MPR that an airplane had flown into the World Trade Center. I recall being momentarily puzzled and bemused by a flash memory of a fog-bound B-25 bomber crashing into the Empire State Building back in 1945 and thinking that would make an interesting sidebar to what would doubtless be the wire news of how a rookie pilot in an errant Cessna or Beechcraft failed to get out of the way of a really large building on a bright September morning.

A few blocks later, I pulled into the Daily News parking lot, made my way to the newsroom and with a glance at the TV the complexion of the day changed dramatically … as would the complexion of every day that was to follow.

“War on terror,” that’s what they – the anonymous “they” who invariably take it upon themselves to name and define such things – saw fit to call it. But terror is an emotion; a deep, resonant, contagious, life changing fear. How do they make war on the burning knot deep in your gut? What weapons target a tightening throat? The cold sweat? A trembling hand?   

That terror they spoke of was an experience -- our American shared experience – not a nation, an organization, not even an individual that our generals could make war on. It was a sense that all was not right with the world and that we might be made to share in that discontent in a very personal, painful, and unpredictable way.

There was no bomber, no missile that could target that terror; so the men and women in power took aim at what they defined as terrorists and sponsors of terrorism instead.

It felt good. “Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord,” but aggrieved Americans were eager to do the Lord’s work. We’d find ‘em. We’d get ‘em. Kandahar. Kabul. Tora Bora…

When in doubt, send in the Marines.

Yet there, beneath the bluster and bravado, we did have doubts. We asked and reasked, “Why do they hate us?” but never paused to listen for the answer – and if we did, ignored, discounted or denied the possibility of it being true.

Instead we sent soldiers, bombs and planes. If their hearts and minds were out of reach, there always seemed to be an ass ready to be kicked.

We assured ourselves that we were on the high road, in hot pursuit of cowardly fanatics who brought fear to innocent people going about their daily business. Ours was a righteous anger.

But in the smug fury of our war making little thought was given to how cruise missiles, drone strikes – the full panoply of our military “shock and awe” -- would be greeted by innocent people going about their daily business. Watching the fighting play out on our living room screens it failed to occur to us that Humvees loaded with squads of husky young men decked out in full “battle rattle” might well evoke terror as effectively as a 15-year-old wrapped in C-4 explosives.

It was a war we probably never should have imagined we could win.

 Young men don’t fly airplanes into tall buildings at a whim. Farmers and shopkeepers don’t rig IEDs and conceal Kalashnikovs without reason. For two decades America’s declared enemies flout death to defy the might of our arms and the temptations of our economy.

We swore to ourselves and to the world that the terrorists would not win, but 20 years on we are a fragmented nation – divided by race, politics, wealth, and religion. We look on each other with distrust and suspicion as we threaten to devolve into hostile tribes. Twenty years ago terror threatened us from without, an alien malevolence lurking beyond our border. Today terror is a home-grown thing, lurking in the digital shadows and stalking the streets.

The buildings destroyed that September morning have been replaced. The landscape has been restored, but our confidence remains shattered. The world we fought to rebuild in our image lies in shambles as we squabble among ourselves; far more eager to fix blame and reopen wounds than fix problems and heal division.

Twenty years ago we questioned why they hated America. Today we question why America hates itself.

Until we find the answer, the terrorists have won.