The Road Not Taken and What Might Have Been, Disrupting the Cycle of Hate
by Alexander Krohannon
September 2021
As we pass the 20th anniversary of the September 11th attack, I am reminded of a discussion I had on the 10th anniversary. In the fall of 2011, I was a sophomore home from college for the weekend, to see my girlfriend, do laundry, and get a few home-cooked meals. Before going back to school, I went to my local church for the traditional Sunday service.
That morning the pastor, a close personal friend and confidant, gave a sermon that has echoed in mind ever since. He began by talking about the assigned readings for the week, a lesson from Jesus about the way problems should be solved, and how we could apply those principles of loving thy neighbor to our own lives. And then he reminded us that on this day 10 years ago, a group of men, with hatred of a “great evil” in their hearts, who traveled across the world, perpetrated great acts of violence on people they had never met. And how in turn: friends, family, neighbors, and citizens of their victims, had set out with hatred of a “great evil” in their hearts, to travel across the world to perpetrate acts of violence on people that they had never met.
He went on to discuss what the then decade long War on Terror had cost the United States in terms of dollars and lives, as well as how many lives the war had cost the people of Afghanistan and Iraq. While I no longer have those numbers from the time, let’s consider the most recent estimates: 5.4 trillion dollars; and 7,074 American soldier’s lives, over 171,000 Afghan lives (47,245 Afghan civilians, 66,000 Afghan military and police, and 51,000 Taliban fighters) and over 109,000 Iraqi lives (66,000 civilians and 43,000 fighters).
He then asked us, the congregation, the “body of Christ” on earth, if that was what Jesus would have done? Is it what Jesus would have wanted us to do? Was is the only way that we could have reacted to the horrifying images and videos that emerged from that day?
Every American suffered in the aftermath of 9/11, some in ways more profoundly and deeply than others, but we were all suffering. We all endured a mighty blow from an unknown enemy. Fear and uncertainty hung menacingly in the air. It was almost palpable. No one knew what was going to happen next. When was the next shoe going to fall? Was anywhere safe? And in our fear, our loss, and our trauma, we sounded the drums of war.
We asked our able bodied people to take up arms to avenge the people and security we had lost, and to protect those who remained. This was a perfectly logical and natural response to our circumstances; perhaps even a just response. But was it the best response, given the information that was uncovered in hours, days, and weeks following the attack?
Could our leaders have evaluated the situation, looked at the likely outcomes of the proposed course of actions, and used history as guide us to arrive at any different solution?
On the 10th anniversary of the deadliest terrorist attack in our nation’s history, an attack that claimed the lives of 2,977 Americans, my pastor asked us, a community of 100 people (on a good day), if we could have followed Jesus’ example, exercised restraint, empathy, and love, and offer forgiveness for the people who had hurt us. He went on to elaborate, that while the victims of this attack were largely random, the sentiment of the attack was not.
The terrorists believed themselves to be on a righteous crusade to drive out a great evil that had been occupying sacred land for over 60 years. Regardless of the factual validity of their beliefs, they genuinely believed this to be case, and were willing to die for it. That kind of hatred, that kind of fear, doesn’t arise out of nothing, and having felt similar levels of fear and hatred, he asked us, would we have done the same?
But, what would a better person do? What would a society with more experience and emphasis on empathy and forgiveness had done? What could we do to overcome the cycle of vengeance that has plagued humanity since inception? What if, instead of taking out our collective anger on the friends, families, and supporters of the attackers, we had decided to reflect upon the effects of our nation’s actions and listen to the hurt, righteous indignation, and plight of the people that the attackers were among?
We could have opened lines of communication between the leaders of the United States and the people of Afghanistan. We could have understood the hardships endured by their people and evaluated our role in creating and maintaining those problems. We could have have offered protection to their weak, we could have offered medication for their sick, shelter to their needy, food to their hungry, water to their thirsty, and grace to their least deserving, if only we had the strength and the bravery to do so.
At first, I probably felt like many of you do, now. “How dare you!? It’s easy to talk about forgiveness if you didn’t lose anyone! You’re talking crazy.” And those are all valid feelings and thoughts to have, and are the ones that I had as I left the church, following the end of the service.
On most Sundays, when I was in town, I would linger in the narthex and wait for my pastor to change out of his robes, and we would discuss my thoughts and feelings on that week’s sermon. It was a bit of a ritual that had started, when he first joined the church ministry, and I, a rebellious pre-teen, was reluctant to accept any new spiritual adviser. But not this day. I was far too angry by the audacity of his sermon.
However, as time passed, as the number of casualties continued to rise — as I began to see more of the destruction that war had brought to the people and places of Afghanistan and Iraq; as I met more people who had lost parts of themselves, sons, daughters, sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles, fathers, and mothers to the conflict; as I had conversations with people about missed birthdays, empty chairs at holidays, anxiety over reports of casualties, and had experienced some of them myself — I began to think differently about my pastor’s sermon.
Was all this destruction and death and pain, an appropriate response for what was done to us? If the victims of the tragedy of 9/11 could have witnessed all of the additional tragedies that have been born out of the wrongs inflicted upon them, would they have wanted us to perpetrate them? If we had only known what our actions following September 11, 2001, would have caused to ourselves, our friends, our neighbors, our fellow citizens, and people around the world, would we have acted differently?
Obviously, I think the answer is 'yes'. How could it not be?
The response to 2,977 Americans dying can’t be that 7,074 more Americans and 280,000 people from around the globe have to die. Our society’s response to a great tragedy like 9/11 can’t be to inflict the equivalent of 93 times that tragedy on other societies. But that is what it has been, and if they follow the same logical argument that we did, they’d be planning their next series of attacks right now!
And we can’t blame them. They would be doing to us exactly what we did to them. Fortunately, or cruelly, depending upon perspective, they are likely unable to wage war upon us in the same way we did to them. Regardless, now is the time to ask the question: 'What will we do the next time our nation faces a tragedy?'
All signs currently point to repeating this same series of events, in an endless cycle of action and reaction, that given the knowledge and experience of treading a particular path, when we find ourselves at a diverging road in a yellow wood, we will take the road. And others like myself, and my pastor before me, will wonder about the road not taken, and what might have been.