At Peace in War
By James K. Glassman
I spent the anniversary of the 9/11 terrorist attacks in South Bend, Indiana watching Notre Dame play football against Michigan. Before the game, a half dozen Army precision parachutists jumped into the stadium from above, all of them landing within a few yards of the precise center of the field. The bands played "America, the Beautiful" and "The Star-Spangled Banner," and 80,795 of us stood silent for a minute remembering the 2,973 innocents who were killed at the World Trade Center, the Pentagon, and Shanksville, Pennsylvania, exactly three years before. Then we cheered as Notre Dame came from behind, scored 21 points in the fourth quarter and upset Michigan, 28-20.
The day was all so normal it got me thinking. Should we have been more solemn, more anxious, more vigilant on September 11, 2004? Are we taking the attacks on America seriously enough? Are we deluding ourselves in our normalcy?
In short, have the past three years been the contemporary equivalent of the "Phony War," or as the Germans called it, the Sitzkrieg--the October 1939-May 1940 lull between Hitler's conquest of Poland and his invasion of France, Belgium, and Holland?
Of course, there has been real war since 9/11; more than 1,000 American troops have died in Afghanistan and Iraq. But, as I write, there has not been another attack on U.S. soil.
There was real war as well in late 1939 and 1940, with heavy loss of life on the British and German sides at sea in the Atlantic. Still, during the Phony War, the great conflagration of World War II had not yet started, certainly not for America. And so it may be today.
After 9/11, the cliche was that nothing would be the same again. That has proven largely untrue. Except for the moment of silence, the Notre Dame-Michigan game was the same on September 11, 2004, as it had been 31 other times since November 23, 1887. Notre Dame, like other American college football teams of such early vintage, played all during World War I (Knute Rockne's first season, after all, was 1918) and World War II (finishing the period 1941-1945 with a record of 32-5-3).
After 9/11, Notre Dame skipped the Purdue game, scheduled for four days after the terror attacks, but the team finished the season (5-6) to packed houses.
In the nation as a whole, life has gone on. The attacks of 9/11 prolonged the recession and made the recovery more sluggish than usual, but the changes to total economic output were only a few percentage points. Meanwhile, over the past three years, about 12 million babies were born in the U.S., 8 million people died, 7 million couples got married.
Despite the nagging fears many of us have felt when we've flown, there have been 30 million commercial airliner takeoffs in the U.S. since 9/11 without a hijacking or a terrorist incident. In 2002, not a single person died in an airliner crash--the first time that has happened in at least 20 years. And 2003 was the safest year in history for airlines globally.
Are we being lulled into a sense of false security? I don't think so. The United States in 2004 is not France in 1939 and 1940 (nor France in 2004). The French did not fortify their border with Belgium in the late 1930s. Their troops remained hunkered down on the Maginot Line, which the Germans simply bypassed on their way to Paris.
"Fixed fortifications," said General George Patton, "are a monument to the stupidity of man." Sitting home, waiting for the barbarians, as some on both the Left and the Right think we should, is just as stupid. The U.S. has taken the battle to the enemy, when we can find the enemy. Unlike the Fighting Irish, we would rather play our games away than at home.
On that beautiful September day in South Bend, my emotions were a little confused. But my mind told me that despite our suspicions, despite the seriousness of the struggle we are in, our day-to-day lives should not depart much from the healthy traditional American patterns. Yes, we need to analyze our failures before 9/11 and to prepare for the worst. But our Saturdays? Spend them cheering over blocked punts, draw plays, and gorgeous spirals to the end zone.
James Glassman is a TAE contributing writer.