The events of 9/11/2001 revealed two unalterable facts. The first of these is the fact that the
American people are capable of demonstrating a truly inspiring level of
solidarity. This lesson may be lost on
those who aren’t old enough to remember 9/11, and didn’t witness first-hand the
falling away of prejudices that have long divided Americans. It didn’t matter if a victim of the terrorist
atrocity was black or brown, rich or poor, documented or undocumented; our
hearts went out to their families. We shed
tears for people we didn’t know personally.
The second unalterable fact is that fire fighters and police
officers are heroes. On 9/11, 343 fire
fighters and 60 police officers gave their lives to protect others, fully
knowing the risks to themselves.
Yet, a young African American male who has an encounter with
a police officer probably won’t be thinking about the heroism of those who gave
their lives on 9/11. Instead, he will be
afraid for his life.
The casual brutality of police officers toward African
Americans is something that members of the African American community have been
forced to accept for a long time. Owing
to the ease with which cellphone videos can be shared over the Internet, the
problem has only recently been brought home for the rest of us. Some of these videos show that when a police
officer confronts an unarmed African American male (and sometimes, a woman or
child), it only takes a few seconds for the encounter to go horribly
wrong. Not enough time for the officer
to employ negotiation or de-escalation strategies. Not enough time for the civilian to take
stock of the gravity of the situation.
One could argue that, on the anniversary of 9/11, it is most
appropriate to focus one’s thoughts and prayers on the heroes who gave their
lives. But one could also argue that, by
way of honoring the police officers who died, we should resolve to stand firm
in our conviction that no police officer should be allowed to discredit the
badge.
What Lincoln said at Gettysburg applies equally well at
Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan:
The world will little note, nor long remember what we say
here, but it can never forget what they
did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the
unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It
is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us – that
from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they
gave the last full measure of devotion – that we here highly resolve that these
dead shall not have died in vain – that this nation, under God, shall have a
new birth of freedom – and that government of the people, by the people, for
the people, shall not perish from the earth.
The forgotten foundation of American government is
solidarity. Solidarity depends on making
no distinction between Americans on the basis of race or religion, nor on the
basis of private beliefs and behaviors.
Solidarity depends on a shared commitment to the idea that life, liberty,
and property ought to be defended, and that by “property” we mean the rule of law: because it is the law that
determines whether there is a right to ownership of land or other possessions, the
law that determines whether there is a right to due process, and the law that
determines whether disputes can be settled peacefully. The law is only a frail piece of paper unless
the people agree to keep faith with it.