Hate crime

[CVLowell]

In our country we have resolved to punish hate.  This was a hate crime -- not
a political statement.  The WTC was an office building -- a place of work for
people like us.  The objective was a body count.  We punish hate with extra
measure.  -- just my opinion -- and I thought you would enjoy this column:

CL

> Seattle Times
> Wednesday, September 12, 2001 - 12:00 a.m. Pacific

> "The Barbarians Will Learn What America's All About"
>
> By Leonard Pitts Jr.
> Syndicated columnist

> They pay me to tease shades of meaning from social and cultural issues,
to
> provide words that help make sense of that which troubles the American
> soul. But in this moment of airless shock when hot tears sting
> disbelieving eyes, the only thing I can find to say, the only words that
> seem to fit, must be addressed to the unknown author of this suffering.

> You monster. You beast. You unspeakable bastard.

> What lesson did you hope to teach us by your coward's attack on our
 World Trade Center, our Pentagon, us? What was it you hoped we would
learn?
> Whatever it was, please know that you failed.

> Did you want us to respect your cause? You just damned your cause.

> Did you want to make us fear? You just steeled our resolve.

> Did you want to tear us apart? You just brought us together.

> Let me tell you about my people. We are a vast and quarrelsome family, a
> family rent by racial, cultural, political and class division, but a
> family nonetheless. We're frivolous, yes, capable of expending tremendous
=

> emotional energy on pop cultural minutiae, a singer's revealing dress, a
> ball team's misfortune, a cartoon mouse.
>
> We're wealthy, too, spoiled by the ready availability of trinkets and
> material goods, and maybe because of that, we walk through life with a
> certain sense of blithe entitlement. We are fundamentally decent, though
-
> peace-loving and compassionate. We struggle to know the right thing and
to
> do it. And we are, the overwhelming majority of us, people of faith,
> believers in a just and loving God.

> Some people - you, perhaps - think that any or all of this makes us weak.
> You're mistaken. We are not weak. Indeed, we are strong in ways that
> cannot be measured by arsenals.

> Yes, we're in pain now. We are in mourning and we are in shock. We're
> still grappling with the unreality of the awful thing you did, still
> working to make ourselves understand that this isn't a special effect
from
> some Hollywood blockbuster, isn't the plot development from a Tom Clancy
> novel.

> Both in terms of the awful scope of its ambition and the probable final
> death toll, your attacks are likely to go down as the worst acts of
> terrorism in the history of the United States and, indeed, the history of
> the world. You've bloodied us as we have never been bloodied before.

> But there's a gulf of difference between making us bloody and making us
> fall. This is the lesson Japan was taught to its bitter sorrow the last
> time anyone hit us this hard, the last time anyone brought us such abrupt
> and monumental pain. When roused, we are righteous in our outrage,
> terrible in our force. When provoked by this level of barbarism, we will
> bear any suffering, pay any cost, go to any length, in the pursuit of
> justice.

> I tell you this without fear of contradiction. I know my people, as you,
> I think, do not. What I know reassures me. It also causes me to tremble
> with dread of the future.

> In days to come, there will be recrimination and accusation, fingers
> pointing to determine whose failure allowed this to happen and what can
> be done to prevent it from happening again. There will be heightened
> security, misguided talk of revoking basic freedoms. We'll go forward
from
> this moment sobered, chastened, sad. But determined, too. Unimaginably
> determined.

> You see, there is steel beneath this velvet. That aspect of our character
> is seldom understood by people who don't know us well. On this day, the
> family's bickering is put on hold. As Americans we will weep, as
Americans
> we will mourn, and as Americans, we will rise in defense of all that we
> cherish.

> Still, I keep wondering what it was you hoped to teach us. It occurs to
> me that maybe you just wanted us to know the depths of your hatred.

> If that's the case, consider the message received. And take this message
> in exchange: You don't know my people. You don't know what we're about.

> You don't know what you just started.

> But you're about to learn.