9/11

Memorial ceremonies are an attempt to sustain conversation about the meaning of past events. They mark off boundaries between what should and should not be considered the meaning of those events with respect to narratives of self-understanding. The story that the memorial ceremony should serve to underline is that the U.S. was attacked in a spectacular and destructive fashion two years ago, with grave consequences for individuals with whom we share attachments of place, time, and citizenship.

There is no agreement on why, precisely, the attacks happened, as little as there is agreement on what the appropriate responses should be. There is little agreement on the appropriate frame of reference within which to understand the attacks (all terrorist activity? all political violence? all violence?). There is certainly little agreement on how the memory of the attacks should be employed: as a call to arms to protect against predictable attempts to curtail civil liberties? As a conversation-stopping reference aimed at regime critics?

Ceremonial conversations can be difficult, confusing, and upsetting in a pluralist political culture. It's not just a matter of post-sixties folks being rude, either. But it is necessary, I think, to develop a story that is positive -- worthy of attachment -- amidst the cacaphony. And perhaps the cacaphony itself will suffice: look how varied we are, and, consequently, look how much variation is destroyed when thousands among us are killed.