AFTER THE RUINS: THE 9/11 COMPLEX, MEMORY, AND THE GLOBAL WAR ON TERROR
A DISSERTATION SUBMITTED TO THE GRADUATE DIVISION OF UNIVERSITY OF HAWAIʻI AT MĀNOA IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF
DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY
IN
AMERICAN STUDIES
APRIL 2020
By
Tomoaki Morikawa
Dissertation Committee:
Karen Kosasa, Chairperson Elizabeth Colwill Vernadette Gonzalez Reece Jones Geoffrey White
Keywords: 9/11, Battleground, Commemoration, Interpellation, Memory, The Global War on Terror, Vulnerability
Acknowledgements
This dissertation project would have not been possible without the assistance of many people.
I want to thank Karen Kosasa who has pushed me this far. She has been the most avid reader of my writings. It is her dedicated guidance and numerous edits that enabled me to complete this dissertation. She was always willing to have a conversation with me either in person or online and provided generous support to me not only academically but also mentally.
I am also grateful to my committee members, Elizabeth Colwill, Vernadette Gonzalez,
Reece Jones, and Geoffrey White. Each chapter has sections that reveal how deeply I am influenced by their work. In my dissertation, I travel across time and space to the period of slavery in New York City, to Pearl Harbor, Hawaiʻi, and to the U.S.-Mexico border. Each journey was made possible because I was fortunate to work with my committee members.
I must say that the Department of American Studies at University of Hawai'i at Mānoa took very good care of me. Mari Yoshihara, now the department chair, said to me, “We are watching you,” when I joined the department, and I was watched over with care for the whole of my PhD program. The UH bureaucracy is not easy to deal with, but Rumi Yoshida pushed through many things for me. Without her presence in the department office, things would have been much more difficult.
I also want to express gratitude to many participants and TripAdvisor reviewers who shared their experiences and provided materials relevant to my research. They allowed me to critically reflect on my epistemological framework and complicate my thinking. Their voices added depth to my dissertation analysis.
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And I would like to thank my comrades. They made my graduate life more than bearable.
Special thanks to Yi-hung Liu and Andy Wang. While Yi-hung sometimes “trashed” my writings, she made me think harder, and Andy provided a space to focus on my work in Taiwan.
And thank you to Jayson Parba, who cooked me salty Filipino food from time to time and allowed me to stay at his place when I was in Honolulu for my defense.
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Abstract
While once a place that defined Lower Manhattan as the mecca of international business, the
World Trade Center was destroyed and turned into a site of national trauma called “Ground
Zero” by the events of 9/11. Right after the terrorist attacks, efforts to recover and reconstruct the site were quickly taken, and now, a memorial complex stands there. Naming it the Ground Zero memorial complex, this dissertation attempts to understand the significance of this place within the American landscape and American history. For this purpose, I closely trace the reconstruction process of the WTC site and examine the rebuilt memorial complex mainly consisting of the primary tower One World Trade Center, the memorial Reflecting Absence, and the National September 11 Museum. At the same time, I make a methodological decision to move beyond Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan in time and space. Guided by the notion that the site is the focal point of the flow of violence that is foundational to the U.S., this dissertation shifts the sites of investigation from Lower Manhattan to Vietnam, the U.S.-Mexico border,
Hawai‘i, and Hiroshima. By situating the Ground Zero memorial complex within much larger contexts, I reveal that the WTC site was reconstructed into a place that sanctioned violence as a result of the American violence perpetrated globally following the 9/11 events. The Ground Zero memorial complex is thus a battleground where people may not physically lose their lives, but are encouraged to sanction the logic of the Global War on Terror as well as other ideological and physical wars waged on behalf of the U.S. To some visitors, the site may appear apolitical and neutral. It may appear to be dedicated to consoling and healing a wounded nation. However, the
Ground Zero memorial complex is much more complex than it seems.
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Table of Contents
Acknowledgements i
Abstract iii
Table of Contents iv
Table of Figures vi
Introduction 1
Chapter 1: Exclusions, Inclusions:
The Reconstruction of Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan 25
Chapter 2: The Cartography of Vulnerability:
Wars and U.S. Geographies 59
Chapter 3: The Museum as a Battleground:
Curating the Global War on Terror 90
Chapter 4: Encoding, Decoding:
Visitor Experiences at the Ground Zero Memorial Complex 132
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Conclusion 168
Appendix A: Email from 9/11 Memorial & Museum (Nov. 11, 2017) 175
Appendix B: Email from 9/11 Memorial & Museum (Nov. 11, 2018) 178
Appendix C: Questionnaire 181
Appendix D: Semi-Structured Interview Questions 182
Appendix E: Profile of Participants 183
Bibliography 184
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Table of Figures
Figure 1: “Hibaku Saigen Ningyō” 5
Figure 2: “Visitor Rules of Conduct” 26
Figure 3: Museum Map 94
Figure 4: “Last Column” 96
Figure 5: “Slurry Wall” 97
Figure 6: A Large Map and “We Remember” 99
Figure 7: “Trying to Remember the Color of the Sky on That September Morning” 102
Figure 8: “World Leaders, December 7, 1988” 108
Figure 9: “Al-Qaeda in the Context of Sunni Islam, circa 2000” 114
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Introduction
May the lives remembered, the deeds recognized, and the spirit reawakened be eternal beacons, which reaffirm respect for life, strengthen our resolve to preserve freedom, and inspire an end to hatred, ignorance and intolerance. —National September 11 Memorial and Museum1
Does the state gain anything in exchange? It certainly does, but what it obtains pertains only to its own territory with respect to its own citizens. The state gains the following: that the church will not interfere with but rather approve and uphold the exercise of power by the state. The church promises to obtain for the state the consent of a segment of the governed that the state implicitly acknowledges it cannot obtain on its own. —Antonio Gramsci, Prison Notebooks Volume II, 19752
Trajectory
While walking through the National September 11 Museum in summer, 2018, my memory kept turning back to my visit to the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum a few years earlier. For a Japanese national trained in the field of American Studies, I understood the term
“ground zero” not only as a reference to the ruined World Trade Center site in Lower Manhattan, but also as a marker signifying the hypocenters of the atomic bombings by the U.S. in August
1945 in Japan. For me, “ground zero” is a multifaceted term. Because my visit to the museum in
Hiroshima predated my visit to the National September 11 museum in New York City, I found some of its exhibits perplexing, especially in terms of how it viewed the topic of war. The museum in Lower Manhattan, as one of the following chapters shows, affirms the Global War on
1 “Mission Statement,” https://www.911memorial.org/mission-statement (accessed February 28th). Although the National September 11 Memorial and Museum is the institution’s official name, the word “national” is often omitted. The memorial museum is a product of private and state partnership and thus not a federal institution. Its logo plain and simple: “9/11 Memorial & Museum.” And yet, as will be discussed later, this institution is anything but national. In light of this national status, I will use the official name in this dissertation. 2 Antonio Gramsci, Prison Notebooks Volume II (Ed. and trans. Joseph Buttigieg, New York: Columbia University Press, 1975), 220.
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Terror.3 In contrast, the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum is thematically antiwar—and this is in line with what I was taught in schools when I grew up in Japan. I was educated to believe that war is evil.4 The museum built adjacent to ground zero in the city of Hiroshima confirms this point. The mission of the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum is to “[convey] to the world the horrors and the inhumane nature of the nuclear weapon and [spread] the message of ‘No More
Hiroshimas,’” or no more war, “[t]hrough belongings left by the victims, A-bombed artifacts, testimonies of A-bomb survivors and related materials.5 For me, war is not something to be celebrated. When I encountered the affirmation of war in the National September 11 Museum, I was confused by the differences between the U.S. war culture and the one in which I was raised.
That I found some exhibits in the museum in Lower Manhattan disconcerting does not mean that I am morally superior as a Japanese citizen in comparison to Americans. On the contrary, in Hiroshima, I was troubled by my own discriminatory responses towards others.
When I saw American-looking people touring around the Hiroshima Peace Memorial park and taking photographs in front of the Atomic Dome, I inwardly condemned them: “Shame on you.
You people caused this to us and you are having some fun out of it.” My reaction to them was probably no different from Americans who are troubled when they see “Japs” visiting the Pearl
Harbor Historic Sites and viewing the USS Arizona Memorial in Hawai‘i.6 Or, I am not unlike
3 This war is called the (Global) “War on Terror” in the United States. In a way, the adjective “global” is a misnomer, considering the fact that the war has been fought not for global society, but for the U.S. This dissertation, however, maintains the adjective. While this war is representative of U.S. unilateral foreign policy, actual battles have been fought in many parts of the world and the battlefront is globally spreading. 4 This was, by no means, a critical reflection on Japan’s past history in wars. I was taught about war’s evil nature only in the context that the Japanese experienced difficult times during and after World War II. In schools, at least during my K12 education, I was never thoroughly introduced to the atrocities that Imperial Japan committed in Asia. 5 “Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum,” http://hpmmuseum.jp/?lang=eng (accessed February 28th). 6 Geoffrey White, Memorializing Pearl Harbor: Unfinished Histories and the Work of Remembrance (Durham: Duke University Press, 2016), 53.
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American patriots who, as will be discussed later in this dissertation, categorically identify
Muslims as terrorists, or the “enemy-others” of the U.S., and refuse to include them in the commemorative practices for the victims of 9/11.
That I found some exhibits in the National September 11 Museum baffling does not mean that the Hiroshima Peace Memorial was a more satisfactory experience than my visit to the museum in Lower Manhattan. I saw some “shortcomings” in the former during my initial visit.
Its exhibits, for instance, do not discuss the racial aspects of the Pacific War. Although there is a panel about the background of the U.S. atomic bombing in Hiroshima, no reason is provided for why Japan and not Germany was bombed. The panel simply states, “In May 1943, the U.S. was planning to use the (atomic) bomb not on Germany but Japan. The following September, the
U.S. and British leaders agreed to use the bomb against Japan.”7 U.S. high officials, however, did not randomly choose Japan over Germany. As John Dower points out, the Pacific War was a
“race war,” and the Japanese were dehumanized in the American imagination.8 While using inhumane atomic bombs against Germans who were similar to white Americans in terms of their race was not imaginable in the popular consciousness of U.S. citizens, many Americans did not consider it morally wrong to exterminate the Japanese with atomic bombs because “[the
Japanese] were perceived as a race apart, even a species apart.”9
At the same time, the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum remains silent on the racial politics that was central to the ideology of Imperial Japan. On the one hand, the Japanese Empire justified its imperial expansion in Asia as the construction of the Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity
Sphere, a project that supposedly decolonized Asian peoples from Western oppression. On the
7 The caption in the museum. 8 John Dower, War Without Mercy: Race and Power in the Pacific War (New York: Pantheon, 1987), 4. 9 Ibid., 8.
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other hand, however, “the operative language of the new sphere was in fact premised on the belief that the Japanese were destined to preside over a fixed hierarchy of peoples and races.”10
The Co-Prosperity Sphere was only nominally Pan-Asian, which had “a hydra-headed ideology, involving not merely the frontal attack on the Western colonial powers and their values but also discrimination vis-à-vis the other races, nationalities, and cultures of Asia.”11 The Hiroshima
Peace Memorial Museum does not describe or critically reflect on the war atrocities committed by the Japanese under this ideology. Instead, by displaying the gory images and full-size mannequins of A-bomb victims (see Figure 1), the museum produces a simplistic narrative that war is evil because it could lead to atomic bombings.12
10 Ibid. 11 Ibid. 12 The Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum underwent a massive renovation from September 2014. The museum’s exhibition was renewed and reopened on April 25, 2019. As a result of the renewal, the mannequins were removed from the display. Ostensibly, the City of Hiroshima attributed the removal to the inaccurate representation of the magnitude of the atomic bombing. In short, government officials claimed that the mannequins belittled the horror of the bombing and might let visitors believe that the bombing was not so horrific. See “About the Removal of full-size mannequins of A-bomb victims (平和 記念資料館の被爆再現人形の撤去について), http://www.city.hiroshima.lg.jp/www/contents/1371543633862/index.html (accessed February 28th). Whether those officials were politically or sincerely motivated remains to be examined, the overall narrative tone of the museum seemingly does not change, as some critics point out. For instance, Nodoka Odawara argues that the renewed exhibition is curated in ways to invite visitors to poignantly imagine the sorrow of seeing people dying and viscerally feel that the atomic bombing is unbearable and war is not acceptable. See “Two Atomic Museums and What Their ‘Exhibitions’ Tell. The Review of ‘The Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum’ by Nodoka Odawara (2 つの原爆資料館、その「展示」が伝え るもの。小田原のどか評「広島平和記念資料館」),” https://bijutsutecho.com/magazine/insight/20226 (accessed February 28th).
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Figure 1: “Hibaku Saigen Ningyō”被爆再現人形 (The Replicating Dolls of A-Bomb Victims) [Photo: Tomoaki Morikawa]
This antiwar claim is not self-critical or self-reflexive. In the Hiroshima Peace Memorial
Museum, at least when I visited in summer 2013, there was no interpretive panel pointing out
Japan’s wartime atrocities and its history as an aggressive empire. Despite the antiwar claim for world peace, the museum does not problematize the colonization of Asian countries and peoples by Imperial Japan and the Japanese.13 As such, the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum is
13 There are two panels briefly problematizing Japanese imperial practices in the Hiroshima National Peace Memorial Hall for the Atomic Bomb Victims, which is located next to the Hiroshima Memorial Museum: “About 350,000 people are estimated to have been in Hiroshima when the atomic bomb was dropped. Among these were many from the Korean peninsula, which was then a Japanese colony, and include persons from China”; “We hereby mourn those who perished in the atomic bombing. At the same time, we recall with great sorrow the many lives sacrificed to mistaken national policy” (the captions in
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limited in many ways, and it is not my contention that the museum in Hiroshima is better or more enlightened than the museum in Lower Manhattan.
That I found some exhibits of the National September 11 Museum troubling, compared to the ones in the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum, only means that I had been indoctrinated into a different set of national ideologies. After all, I am a product of the so-called “post-war democracy,” a norm in Japanese society after the Pacific War, under which “peace” is upheld as a gospel truth. This norm or ideological education was the source of my confusion when I visited the National September 11 Museum, and my confusion informs this dissertation project. I began to think more and more about the links between the Global War on Terror and the museum in
Lower Manhattan, or, more broadly, the rebuilt WTC complex which includes the museum.
These links are the focus of this dissertation. Before September 11th, 2001, the U.S. had never been attacked on its soil other than the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941 in Hawai‘i.
Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan, therefore, occupies an important place in the American landscape as a site of national trauma. This is apparent in the usage of the term “Ground Zero.”
Having complex history behind it, the term signifies many places not in the U.S. but in the city of Hiroshima and in the world.14 Shortly after 9/11, however, New Yorkers started calling the
WTC site Ground Zero with the capital letters, or as a proper noun. This appropriation of the term “Ground Zero” decontextualized it from its complex history, and the site was reconstructed into what I call the “Ground Zero memorial complex”—the rebuilt WTC complex, including the primary tower called One World Trade Center, the National September 11 Memorial known as
the Memorial Hall). And yet, the ways in which the Japanese Empire and the Japanese violated those lives are never clarified in the hall and, by extension, in the park. 14 As will be unpacked in detail in Chapter 3, I acknowledge this complexity and yet, still utilize the term “Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan” to designate the ruined WTC site for its significance in the American landscape and American history.
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Reflecting Absence, and the National September 11 Museum.15 This dissertation argues that within the context of the Global War on Terror, the WTC, which was ruined by the events of
9/11, has become a memorial complex that sanctions this war.
This relationship, I argue, works both ways. On the one hand, the Global War on Terror dictated the reconstruction of the WTC site and the war’s logic informed the shape of the Ground
Zero memorial complex. On the other hand, the site enables the U.S. to continue the Global War on Terror by educating visitors and soliciting their consent. In this sense, the memorial complex has never been unrelated to the war. Rather, the site is one of the battlegrounds of the Global
War on Terror.
Theoretical Frameworks
“Hiroshima” theoretically informs this dissertation project. According to Lisa Yoneyama,
Hiroshima’s urban renewal was led by social and political elites. Under the influence of post-
WWII Japan’s dominant historical discourse, they sanitized and appropriated “representations concerning the war and the atom bomb.”16 Consequently, the city was, she argues, redesigned as a place through which to “[shape] our awareness of history and our understanding of present conditions,” or to “[rule] our ways of seeing.”17 As such, Yoneyama describes the reconstruction
15 This dissertation primarily deals with these three components of this memorial complex. While the site is yet to be completely rebuilt and thus is still evolving, these three sites nevertheless architecturally and discursively frame the new WTC complex. They were identified as the primary places that needed to be (re)built to properly commemorate 9/11 in Memory Foundations, the original mater plan for the reconstruction of Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan. See “Plan for Lower Manhattan” (hereafter Memory Foundations), http://www.renewnyc.com/plan_des_dev/wtc_site/new_design_plans/selected_libeskind/default.asp (accessed February 28th, 2020). The master plan will be analyzed in more detail in Chapters 1 and 2. 16 Lisa Yoneyama, Hiroshima Traces: Time, Space, and the Dialectics of Memory (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1999), 64. 17 Ibid.
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of the cityscape of Hiroshima as a “vice-versal” process: while the cityscape of Hiroshima is a product of historical sanitation practices, this place in turn tells one to “empty [her/his] critical imagination” when remembering the past and to make sense of the present based on this sanitized memory.18 Moving from Hiroshima to New York, I argue that the Ground Zero memorial complex is also a vice-versal place: in accordance with the logic of the Global War on
Terror, the memorial complex invites its visitors to uncritically accept the war.
Louis Althusser’s concepts of “ideological state apparatus” and “interpellation” are also two important theoretical reference points for this dissertation. Although the Ground Zero memorial complex is literally a complex site upon which various stakeholders such as architects, family members of the victims of 9/11, and the city of New York have projected their visions, the U.S. as a nation-state is still predominantly looming over the site on an ideological level.
Moreover, as Geoffrey White points out, places built to remember national traumas help produce national subjects.19 I, therefore, refer to the Althusserian ideas and define the memorial complex as an “ideological state apparatus of memory” that “interpellates” visitors—in particular,
American visitors—to perpetuate state power in the context of the Global War on Terror by manipulating memories concerning 9/11, the war, and American history. The Ground Zero memorial complex, I argue, facilitates the formation of national subjects who mostly remember
9/11 as the state dictates, and thus consent to and/or serve the U.S. wars in the Middle East and around the world.
18 My choosing of the term “vice-versal” is indebted to Derek Gregory’s following insight: spatial structures cannot be theorized without social structures, and vice versa, and…social structures cannot be practised without spatial structures, and vice versa (Ideology, Science and Human Geography [London: Hutchinson, 1978], 121.). While, as a Marxist geographer, he means class conflicts by the term “social structures,” I see a type of vice-versality between space and history, following Yoneyama’s argument about the tangled relationship between the urban place of the city of Hiroshima and the dominant history in post-war Japan. 19 Geoffrey White, Memorializing Pearl Harbor, 13.
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At the same time, this dissertation attempts to attend to the complexity of interpellation.
The Althusserian conceptualization of interpellation is based on the top-down power relation.
And yet, interpellation is not always unidirectional. Or, to be more exact, the effects of interpellation can be wide-ranging. While interpellating calls are compelling and even coercive, they may invite unexpected responses and cause unintended consequences. In this dissertation, I approach this complexity of interpellation by using the following methods.
Methodology
This dissertation is a site-specific study. Given that 9/11 is one of the most recorded historical events, a comprehensive survey of all texts, films, or political movements that engage with the attacks is beyond the scope of this dissertation. Therefore, I focus on the site of the
Ground Zero memorial complex. Conceptually and physically situating myself in this site, I investigate how American identity and power have been constructed and reinforced through this place, by attending to the political culture and realities of the U.S. before, during, and after 9/11.
An official of the Bush administration once blatantly claimed: “We’re an empire now, and when we act, we create our own reality. And while you’re studying that reality—judiciously as you will—we’ll act again, creating other new realities, which you can study.”20 Taking this statement seriously, this dissertation focuses on how the Ground Zero memorial complex creates particular realities while obscuring and ignoring others.
For this purpose, I examine the history of the Ground Zero memorial complex. By looking into the electronic archival materials of the Lower Manhattan Development
20 Quoted in “Faith, Certainty and the Presidency of George W. Bush” by Ron Suskind, The New York Times, https://www.nytimes.com/2004/10/17/magazine/faith-certainty-and-the-presidency-of-george-w- bush.html (accessed February 28th, 2020).
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Corporation—“a joint State-City corporation governed by an eight-member Board of Directors, half appointed by the Governor of New York and half by the Mayor of New York” in charge of
“the rebuilding and revitalization of Lower Manhattan”—that record the design process of the new WTC complex, I trace the reconstruction of Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan from its ruins to the rebuilt memorial complex.21
At the same time, this dissertation analyzes the memorial complex as it is now. In order to achieve this end, I immersed myself in the memorial complex and took extensive field notes while visiting the site. For this dissertation project, in particular for the investigation of the
National September 11 Museum, it is necessary to rely on these field notes because the National
September Memorial and Museum does not allow third parties to look through the museum’s archival materials, including its floor plans. In addition to this restriction, the National September
11 Museum prohibits visitors from taking photographs in the core exhibitions. Therefore, taking field notes is one of the few options available to researchers, and I did so. I took notes on the captions of the exhibitions, the script of the films screened in the museum, and words of the guides during the official tours offered at the Ground Zero memorial complex.
Along with my field notes, I collected “textual” evidence. Among them, texts provided by the National September 11 Memorial and Museum, such as the institution’s electronic newsletters, its blog posts, the museum brochures, and the museum’s official guidebook were included. At the same time, following the scholarly contribution made by scholars in the field of the new cultural geography such as James Duncan and David Ley, I deal with Ground Zero in
Lower Manhattan, or its spatial features as a kind of text. Juxtaposing these many texts with one another, this dissertation engages in a close reading of the site.
21 “About Us,” http://www.renewnyc.com/overlay/AboutUs/ (accessed February 28th, 2020).
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I also closely read the material culture of the Ground Zero memorial complex. The site is filled with and surrounded by symbolic objects such as buildings, installation artworks, memorabilia, memorials, and photographs. They contribute to the creation of particular realities.
In order to reveal what they are, this dissertation carefully examines the materialities of those objects by attending to their aesthetics and physical properties.
The method of close reading that I use is indebted to Marita Sturken’s work on 9/11 and
American consumer culture. In Tourists of History: Memory, Kitsch, and Consumerism from
Oklahoma City to Ground Zero, she examines how certain “kitsch” objects such as teddy bears spread the discourse of national innocence in ways that prevent Americans from critically making historical and political inquiries into the role of the U.S. in 9/11, other than as the victims of historic events.22 Sturken, in other words, engages in a close reading of those objects, and, based on her analysis, she concludes that it is usually not critical inquiries but various forms of consumption activities that take place in American society when a tragic event happens.23
Her interpretive methodology, however, has its limitations. Joy Sather-Wagstaff points this out in an ethnographic research project that she conducted. Sather-Wagstaff interviewed people who sold or bought kitsch objects such as the souvenir trinkets found at the WTC site over an extended period of time. She found out that people interacted with those objects in much more complicated ways than Sturken assumes. There are those who do not consume kitsch objects only to evade critical engagements with the history and politics behind 9/11. In fact,
22 For her argumentation about American consumer culture, Sturken mobilizes the concept of kitsch. Pointing out that it originally “emerged in the mid-nineteenth century in Germany as a description of an aesthetic that was seen as banal, trite, predictable, and in bad taste,” she turns to Matei Călinescu’s insight that kitsch “has a lot to do with…the desire to escape from adverse…reality” ([quoted from and in] Tourists of History: Memory, Kitsch, Consumerism from Oklahoma City to Ground Zero [Durham: Duke University Press, 2007], 19.). Redefining this concept as that which is framed by escapism, Sturken problematizes the consumption of kitsch objects. 23 Ibid., 13.
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some people critically, even collectively, questioned the U.S. national image of innocence through their purchase of “kitsch” objects. Sather-Wagstaff introduces the case of a female tourist called Sheryl from Ohio as one of these people. “Once a staunch supporter of U.S. military actions in the Middle East,” Sheryl became a different person after her visit to Ground
Zero in Lower Manhattan.24 While she used to “[perceive] the WTC site as a place that represented justification for [the Global War on Terror],” Sheryl came to “[advocate] it as place that should negate violence, one where commemoration should enable positive remembrance, not more war.”25 Once she got home from her New York trip, Sheryl started sharing her experience of transformation to the community she belonged to by displaying the very objects that would be identified as kitsch by Sturken, hoping that her actions would change the course of
U.S. foreign policy. Informed by her study of tourists such as Sheryl, Sather-Wagstaff, challenges Sturken’s argument that the kitsch commemorabilia available at the WTC site caused
“the consumption of mourning and kitschfication of grief.”26 According to Sather-Wagstaff, it
“may be the case for some individuals” and yet not for all.27
This dissertation follows after the critical studies of Sturken and Sather-Wagstaff and uses them as methodological guides. On the one hand, through the method of close reading, I pursue the central argument that in the context of the Global War on Terror, Ground Zero in
Lower Manhattan has been reconstructed into a memorial complex closely related to and ideologically aligned with the war. On the other hand, I intend to complicate this central argument by engaging with visitors to the Ground Zero memorial complex. Just as kitsch objects
24 Sather-Wagstaff, Heritage That Hurts: Tourists in the Memoryscapes of 9/11 (New York: Routledge, 2011), 182. 25 Ibid., 183. 26 Sturken, Tourists of History, 130. 27 Sather-Wagstaff, Heritage That Hurts, 184.
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do not necessarily have the same effects on people, not all visitors respond identically to the site’s interpellation. Through an ethnographic project, this dissertation considers the ways in which some visitors experience the memorial complex, and critically assesses and reassesses the site’s meanings for them.
In order to carry out these (re)assessments focused on a specific site, I also expand the scope of investigation in time and space. As briefly mentioned earlier, the term Ground Zero signifies many places other than the ruined WTC site. And, indeed, there are many other ground zeroes created by the U.S. Without contextualizing Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan in relation to those other ground zeroes, I argue, it is not possible to unravel the complexity of the Ground
Zero memorial complex. Guided by this notion, this dissertation takes trans-temporal and trans- spatial analytical frameworks into account. By this, I mean that this dissertation puts the reconstruction of Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan in conversation with American history, in particular with the social history of marginalized communities, and examines the site in New
York in relationship to other places in the world affected by U.S. hegemonic foreign policy. For this purpose, the site of investigation is constantly shifting from 9/11 to slavery, the Cold War, and the dispossession of Native peoples; from Lower Manhattan to Vietnam, the U.S.-Mexico border, Hawai‘i, and Hiroshima. Only by using trans-temporal and trans-spatial analytical frameworks, or by attending to the “flow” of violence, can one understand the significance of
9/11, the meanings and agendas of its national commemorative practices, and the function of the
Ground Zero memorial complex as an ideological state apparatus of memory for the U.S. empire.
In addition to the trans-temporal and trans-spatial frameworks, my own positionality as a non-U.S. citizen is integral to my methodology. Situating myself in the Ground Zero memorial complex and closely reading the rebuilt WTC site and its governing spatial aesthetics and
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rhetoric, I examine how the so-called national values and national truths are (re)presented in this place. Moreover I reflect on how visitors are interpellated by reading the site as a text and by conducting an ethnographic study. In so doing, I employ my positionality as a non-American citizen as an analytical asset. As a Japanese national, I am able to see that the Ground Zero memorial complex is not necessarily intended for international visitors. However, even though the intended or ideal visitors may be Amerian citizens, the meaning and messages at the site may also attrack and effectively address the concerns and sympathies of non-American citizens.
Literature Review
This dissertation refers to Henri Lefebvre’s intervention in the field of spatial theory and recontextualizes it for the analysis of the Ground Zero memorial complex. He points out that
“every society…produces a space, its own space” when theorizing on capitalism and how its mode of production facilitates the formation of a certain kind place or landscape for the continuation of capitalism.28 This perspective is of help to analyze the reconstruction of the WTC site in accordance with the logic of capital. One can argue that it has been rebuilt as a place that fits into and fulfils the economic needs of Lower Manhattan. This dissertation will emphasize the recapitalization of the site in Chapter One. However, what is important to note here is that this does not necessarily mean that Lefebvre’s work needs to be understood only in the context of the spatial analysis of capitalism. The theoretical implication of his intervention is much broader, as
28 Lefebvre, Production of Space. (Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell, 1991), 31. He never uses the term “place” in this seminal work of spatial theory. According to John Agnew, “[t]he conflict between…space versus place,” namely between generalized space and particular places, “is longstanding” (The SAGE Handbook of Geographical Knowledge [Ed. John Agnew and David Livingstone, Los Angeles: SAGE Publications, 2011], 317). In theorizing the generalized space specific to capitalism, Lefebvre uses the term “space.” At the same time, he clings to this term, even when discussing “concrete places”—Lefebvre calls them “concrete space”—that are produced because of “the depredations…[by] capital” (Ibid., 324).
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it can be reinterpreted in the following manner: in post-9/11 American society, places are produced because of and for the continuation of the Global War on Terror. The Ground Zero memorial complex is, I argue, one of those places. In order to make sense of the memorial complex as such a place, I put this dissertation project in conversation with not only Lefebvrian, neo-Marxist spatial theory but also contemporary U.S. foreign policy studies and memorial/museum studies.
Culture and Empire
Over the past two decades, scholars have investigated how U.S. foreign policy has been executed through culture. In the early 1990s, Amy Kaplan addressed the neglected relationship between American culture and U.S. imperialism, compelling other scholars to take heed of “the absence of culture from the history of U.S. imperialism” and “the absence of empire from the study of American culture.”29 Kaplan’s critique advanced the “cultural turn” in the studies of
U.S. foreign relations. Melani McAlister’s Epic Encounters: Culture, Media, and U.S. Interests in the Middle East since 1945 published in the 2001, is one of the crucial works taking this turn to heart. Insisting on the intimacy between culture and politics, McAlister illustrates how the representations of the Middle East in U.S. cultural sphere interfaced with “the making of
[national] interests.”30 American knowledge of the Middle East, she argues, has been shaped through popular culture in ways that encourage American citizens to consent to U.S. interventions in the region.
29 Amy Kaplan, “‘Left Alone with America’: The Absence of Empire in the Study of American Culture” in Cultures of United States Imperialism, edited by Amy Kaplan and Donald E. Pease (Durham: Duke University Press, 1993), 11. 30 Melani McAlister, Epic Encounters: Culture, Media, and U.S. Interests in the Middle East since 1945 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2005), xviii.
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The cultural turn in the field of American Studies is indebted to Edward Said’s notion that the cultural and political spheres “are not only connected but ultimately the same.”31 He points out the complicit relationship between culture and imperialism by identifying some imperialist ideologies explicitly and implicitly expressed in English canonical novels including
Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness and Jane Austen’s Mansfield Park. Scripted against the backdrop of the British empire’s oversea expansions, these literary texts supported imperial practices. According to Said, “the novel, as a cultural artefact of bourgeois society, and imperialism are unthinkable without each other” (Ibid., 70-1.). By this, he means that English canonical novels contributed to the formation of the hegemony of the British empire; “the structures of attitude and reference” of the empire were textured precisely through its canonical novels, or culture. Circulated in the empire, these literary texts, taught readers, including colonized elites, to accept the worldview that normalized the violence inflicted upon the colonized by the colonial power.
Following Said, Kaplan, and McAlister, this dissertation focuses on the political implications of the Ground Zero memorial complex as a cultural enterprise. While these scholars of literature and American Studies deal with many cultural products such as literary texts, films, and museums, this dissertation primarily investigates a memorial complex and how it is structured by and perpetuates the Global War on Terror, despite the fact that the U.S. government has not officially or directly organized this place to align with its political purposes.32
31 Said, Culture and Imperialism (New York: Vintage, 1993), 57. 32 On this point, this dissertation differs from the literature of the cultural Cold War. In this field, The Central Intelligence Agency and the CIA-subsidized organizations such as the Asia Foundation (TAF) and the Congress of Cultural Freedom (CCF), as well as the United States Information Agency (USIA), are primary objects of research. See Frances Stonor Saunders, The Cultural Cold War: the CIA and the World of Arts and Letters (New York: The New Press, 2000), and Nicholas Cull, The Cold War and the
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Memory, National Identity, and Place
As is evident from Yoneyama’s work on the memorialization of the atomic bombing in the city of Hiroshima, some scholars interested in memorials have paid attention to the issue of vice-versality. James Young and Kirk Savage are among them. Both Young and Savage thematize the reciprocal relationship between memory and memorialization. In The Texture of
Memory: Holocaust Memorials and Meaning, for instance, Young illustrates that the ways in which the Holocaust is remembered in Germany, Poland, Israel, and the U.S. determined what kind of memorial was produced in each country. At the same time, he argues that the Holocaust memorials in these countries “in turn” reinforce the national discourse of the Holocaust by interpellating visitors, or by immersing them in the narratives that those memorials produce. This
“in-turnness” is also a theme of Savage’s work, as he points out that “the monument manufactured its own public, but that public in turn had opinions about what constituted proper commemoration.”33 Savage reveals that how slavery was remembered in American society— powerless slaves were emancipated by heroic white American soldiers—made the design of “a standing soldier and a kneeling slave” popular for the monuments for the Emancipation, and this design reshaped the collective imaginary of the nation from a slave society to a country of freedom and democracy.
In addition to the works dealing with the issue of vice-versality, this dissertation focuses on the role that the U.S. plays as a nation-state at the site of the Ground Zero memorial complex.
United States Information Agency: American Propaganda and Public Diplomacy, 1945-1989 (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2008). Saunders’s The Cultural Cold War, first published in London in 1999, mines a wide range of documents to reveal how cultural diplomacy of the U.S. was done through the CIA. Cull’s The Cold War and the United States Information Agency, although published a decade ago, has remained the most complete study of the USIA. 33 Kirk Savage, Standing Soldiers, Kneeling Slaves: Race, War, and Monument in Nineteenth-Century America (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1997), 7.
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For this purpose, I turn to Pierre Nora’s work on memory, which circles around the issue of the nation-state. In “Between Memory and History: Les Lieux de Mémoire,” he discusses the relationship between memory and history, juxtaposing them by contrasting memory as “multiple and yet specific, … collective, plural, and yet individual” with history that “belongs to everyone and to no one, whence its claim to universal authority.”34 However, by developing an overly simplistic binary opposition between memory and history, Nora argues that “[h]istory is perpetually suspicious of memory, and its true mission is to suppress and destroy it.”35 He laments that the collective memory that the French once shared as a nation, has been ruined by historical inquiries. Les lieux de mémoire, or “sites of memory,” are the residues of this ruined collective memory of France based on which Nora hopes to bind France as a nation-state again.
Expressing his nostalgia for France’s loss of collective memory as such, Nora keeps his focus exclusively fixed on the French national imaginary. Indeed, his les lieux de mémoire do not include “inappropriate” aspects of the French national past. As Anne Whitehead points out, Nora willfully “overlook[s] ‘the entire imperial history of the country, from the Napoleonic conquests, through the plunder of Algeria under the July Monarchy, to the seizure of Indochina in the
Second Empire and the vast African booty of the Third Republic.’”36 By selectively engaging with les lieux de mémoire that provide nothing but “appropriate” narratives of the French national past for the formation of the French national history, Nora illustrates the memory work in the French context, or how the French mainstream history is constructed through arbitrary acts of remembering.
34 Nora, “Between Memory and History: Les Lieux de Mémoire.” Representation 26. (1989), 8. 35 Ibid., 9. 36 Anne Whitehead, Memory: The New Critical Idiom. (New York: Routledge, 2009), 145.
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This dissertation follows his work on memory and its critique. In the first place, I identify the WTC site, reduced to a physical ruin after the attacks, as one of les lieux de mémoire. At the same time, taking seriously the criticism that Nora’s argument elicited, this dissertation problematizes the relationship between the site and the state. Once ruined and yet reconstructed as a memorial complex, Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan, I argue, has become a place where the remembering of 9/11 is performed to consolidate American identity and power as a nation- state through the strategic historical forgetting of elements of the U.S. national past.
Museum and National Subject
The works of some museum studies scholars who emphasize the museum’s role in shaping identities and subjects also offer an important reference point for this dissertation project. One of those works is Eilean Hooper-Greenhill’s Museums and the Interpretation of
Visual Culture. In it, she defines culture as constitutive in the sense that it has “the power to shape cultural identities at both individual and social levels; to mobilise emotions, perceptions and values; to influence the way we feel and think.”37 In short, charged with cultural significance, museums interpellate the public. Resonant with Said and McAlister’s emphasis on culture, Hooper-Greenhill argues that the implementation of certain cultural codes in museums leads to the formation of national subjects. Introducing the case of the National Portrait Gallery in the nineteenth century in Britain, for instance, she illustrates the ways in which visitors honored the portraits of certain national figures and were made to internalize the national values exemplified by the portraits of mostly men. As such, according to Hooper-Greenhill, many museums transform their visitors into “good” national citizens.
37 Eilean Hooper-Greenhill’s Museums and the Interpretation of Visual Culture (New York: Routledge, 2000), 13.
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On this point, Carol Duncan also makes an astute argument. Driven by the question of what kinds of ideological and political practices are enabled by museums, she examines the relationship between states, citizenship, and museums—namely, the ways in which museums function to project ideal images of states and substantiate the concept of citizenship with those images. Museums, Duncan argues, are crucial for states in the sense that the former are where the latter are (visually) narrativized and their images are imposed upon “citizens.” Museums, in other words, are sites for the dissemination of state media. According to her, museums produce secular “truths” that “[help] bind the community as a whole into a civic body, identifying its highest values, its proudest memories, and its truest truths.”38 As “powerful identity-defining machines,” museums present the “legitimate” national history and invite visitors to accept it as truth.39 Visitors are, more or less, forced to “follow a route through a programmed narrative” and to consent to national values, national memories, and national “truths” showcased in museums.40
For Duncan, therefore, visitor experiences in museums are defined as transformative rituals through which visitors become good national subjects.
Based on this line of scholarship in the field of museum studies, I define the Ground Zero memorial complex as a ritual place of national culture. Although the degree of coercion involved in these places is not so much physically violent as it is culturally educative, it is nevertheless insistent and immersive. Through culture, the memorial complex presents a certain kind of national image and perspective to visitors—a “show and tell”—that helps them understand the world in accordance with nationalist ideologies. By investigating the site as such a ritual place of
38 Carol Duncan, “Art Museums and the Ritual of Citizenship,” Exhibiting Cultures: The Poetics and Politics of Museum Display (Washington D.C.: Smithsonian Books, 1991), 90-1. 39 Ibid., 101. 40 Ibid., 92.
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state culture, this dissertation reveals the ways in which visitors are encouraged and educated to feel, think, and behave as good national subjects.
Battleground
Since Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan is a famous (and infamous) site, several scholarly studies have been done on it, but not necessarily within the context of the Global War on Terror. Elizabeth Greenspan’s Battle for Ground Zero: Inside the Political Struggle to
Rebuild the World Trade Center and Lynne Sagalyn’s Power at Ground Zero: Politics, Money, and the Remaking of Lower Manhattan are the two most important works focusing on the roles that various stakeholders played in the reconstruction process of the site.41 By highlighting the conflicting relationships among these stakeholders, Greenspan and Sagalyn downplay the state politics operating behind and through the memorial complex.
Even some scholars who argue that the Ground Zero memorial complex remains troublingly silent on the Global War on Terror do not necessarily see the correlation between them. Sturken, for instance, analyzes the memorial complex in her works and claims that both
Reflecting Absence and the National September 11 Museum are not engaged in critical inquiries on the meanings of 9/11. According to her, the former does not function as a “contemplative” place.42 And the latter is likely to make its visitors forget “the complex world of global politics that produced the events of 9/11 and its aftermath.”43 In other words, Sturken criticizes the rebuilt WTC complex as a place indifferent to the global turmoil, including the Global War on
41 See Elizabeth Greenspan’s Battle for Ground Zero: Inside the Political Struggle to Rebuild the World Trade Center (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2013) and Lynne Sagalyn’s Power at Ground Zero: Politics, Money, and the Remaking of Lower Manhattan (New York: Oxford University Press, 2016). 42 Sturken, Tourists of History, 273. 43 Sturken, “The 9/11 Memorial Museum and the Remaking of Ground Zero,” American Quarterly, vol. 67, no. 2 (2015), 489.
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Terror, of which the U.S. has been its primary instigator. And yet, she does not problematize the memorial complex as a place that actively instigates the war itself.
In addition, curators, educators, exhibition developers, architects, media producers and landmark preservationists who were involved with the reconstruction of the WTC site often consider the Ground Zero memorial complex ideologically transparent. Alice Greenwald, the president and chief executive officer of the National September 11 Memorial and Museum, is one of them. She defines the National September 11 Museum as a place with two missions; “the obligation to present authentic, historical documentation and the equal imperative to honor and memorialize the victims.”44 In saying so, Greenwald detaches the site from realpolitik and describe it as “neutral.”45
While, there is a lacuna in terms of the contemplation of the Ground Zero memorial complex within the context of the Global War on terror, it is so-called patriots who are aware of the correlation between the memorial complex and the war. As will be discussed later in
Chapters One and Two, some patriotic Americans claimed that the WTC site needed to be reconstructed into a place that should service and support the U.S. Global War on Terror. And yet, scholars often casually dismiss those patriots as simple-minded bigots. This dissertation takes their claims seriously, but by historicizing their arguments and theorizing their logic(s).
Chapter Outline
44 No Day Shall Erase You: The Story of 9/11 as Told by at the National September 11 Memorial Museum (New York: Rizzoli Electa, 2016), 27. 45 “Neutral” is an adjective that is often used to explain about the Ground Zero memorial complex. For instance, David Layman, the designer of one of the core exhibitions of the National September 11 Museum known as the Historical Exhibition, claims that “the narrative (of the Historical Exhibition) maintains a neutral voice” (“The Heart of Memory: Voices from the 9/11 Memorial Museum Formation Experience,” Museum 93, no. 3 [2014]: 36).
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Chapter One “Exclusion, Inclusions: The Reconstruction of Ground Zero in Lower
Manhattan” focuses on “others” who were excluded from Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan.
Here, I argue that precisely through such an exclusion, the WTC site has been (re)constructed as an important symbolic site. This chapter begins with the description of the Islamophobia at
Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan and how this fear has affected the development of the site and its vicinity. Subsequently, the exclusion of “other others” such as enslaved and Native peoples from the reconstruction of the WTC site is described through a case study of the International
Freedom Center (IFC) and its eventual demise. Based on a discussion of the exclusion of those
“other others,” Chapter One illustrates that Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan is a venue where mainstream (or hegemonic) American history is reinforced. In addition, I identify those who are included inside the site and thus remembered, as well as those who are excluded and thus not remembered. In the end, the Ground Zero memorial complex exists as a place that is ideologically linked to an American history of exclusions in the past and the Global War on
Terror in the present.
I continue to trace the reconstruction of the WTC site into a memorial complex in
Chapter Two “The Cartography of Vulnerability: Wars and U.S. Geographies.” Its primary focus is on the simultaneous emergence of the reconstruction process and the Global War on Terror. In particular, by theorizing how the experience of vulnerability and a sense of fear have driven the war, this chapter points out that this sense of fear previously shaped U.S. geographies and geographic encounters in Vietnam, around the U.S.-Mexico border, and in Lower Manhattan. By doing so, I argue that the Global War on Terror is being fought not only in the Middle East but also at Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan.
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Further pursuing the relationship between the war and the memorial complex, Chapter
Three “The Museum as a Battleground: Curating the Global War on Terror” argues that the
National September 11 Museum needs to be considered as one of several battlegrounds of the war. By examining the museum exhibits, I reveal how they are curated in accordance with the logic of the Global War on Terror and hence function to justify the war and post-911 U.S. military adventures, including domestic surveillance, immigration policy, strategic alliances and in multiple wars on local insurgencies. In so doing, this chapter argues that the National
September 11 Museum interpellates American visitors to become patriotic national subjects who consent to the war that the U.S. has globally fought.
The previous three chapters discuss the reconstruction of Ground Zero in Lower
Manhattan and the rebuilt WTC complex in relation to the Global War on Terror. Building on this discussion, Chapter Four “Encoding, Decoding: Visitor Experiences of the Ground Zero
Memorial Complex” explores the realm of visitor experiences. Through an ethnographic research project involving both American and non-American visitors and the analysis of the comments on the Ground Zero memorial complex on the world’s largest travel review website, I investigate the ways in which some visitors “react” to interpellating calls at the memorial complex. This chapter focuses on the experiences of American and non-American visitors precisely because the previous three chapters claim that the memorial complex is a place intended for American citizens. By engaging in an ethnographic research project and data analysis, I intend to reflexively return to this claim and complicate arguments presented in this dissertation.
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Chapter 1
Exclusions, Inclusions: The Reconstruction of Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan
There are many venues for education and freedom of expression, but there is only one ground zero.1 —Michael Kaplitt, 2005
In the more than 16 years since the attacks, the dedication to community and country shown by members of the armed forces remains a stellar example of courage and selfless devotion.2 —Alice Greenwald, 2018
Introduction
“All visitors and belongings are subject to security screening at the discretion of the 9/11
Memorial.” When one enters the memorial area of the Ground Zero memorial complex, s/he will encounter this “warning” stipulated in panels titled “Visitor Rules of Conduct” put up and posted at multiple locations on the site.
1 Michael Kaplitt, “Ground Zero without the Freedom Center,” https://www.nytimes.com/2005/10/04/opinion/ground-zero-without-the-freedom-center-972169.html (accessed February 28th). 2 See Appendix 1.
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Figure 2: “Visitor Rules of Conduct” [Photo: Tomoaki Morikawa]
Security screening is a common practice for many institutions in the U.S. in particular after 9/11.
And yet, at the Ground Zero memorial complex, this warning is not only literal but also symptomatic. It implies that the site defined as “a place of remembrance and quiet reflection” does not welcome every visitor; the Ground Zero memorial complex is a place where certain people and certain things are censored. This censoring practice, though it is supposedly implemented for security purposes, is not solely focused on visitors’ threatening misconduct
(e.g., concealing a weapon or sharp object). Certain “others” considered unfit for more than
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being a security liability have been excluded from the Ground Zero memorial complex and its vicinity.
This chapter revolves around the question of exclusions. In order to answer it, I will investigate the post-9/11 unrealized rebuilding plans for Lower Manhattan. They were abandoned precisely because certain others were denied a place around/at the WTC site, or from the remembrance practiced there. Through their exclusions, the Ground Zero memorial complex and its vicinity have come into existence. This chapter will identify those excluded from Ground
Zero in Lower Manhattan and the neighboring area, and will trace how their exclusions intimately guided the reconstruction and meaning of the memorial sites.
At the same time, those included inside the Ground Zero memorial complex or in the remembrance structures and programs of 9/11 will be also identified. Only when those included as well as those excluded are brought into the same analytic space, can one clarify what kind of place the memorial complex constitutes. To achieve this end, this chapter will focus on the commemorative practices performed at the Ground Zero memorial complex, including the commemoration ceremony conducted every September 11th. By revealing who/what is remembered along with who/what is not remembered, I will focus on the memory work carried out at the site, or how certain memories prevail over other memories and thus create a specific reality.
Islamophobia and Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan
One group of those excluded is Muslims. After 9/11, they came to national attention.
According to Lori Peek, a professor of Sociology at the University of Colorado Boulder, “[m]ore than twenty books on ‘Islamic menace’ were published in the one-year period following the 9/11
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attacks” and “[t]wo of those books became best-selling titles.3 Many Americans bought copies of those books to gain insight into the “violent nature” of Muslims or Islam.4 In the U.S., according to Mahmood Mamdani, 9/11 reified the notion that “every Muslim [is],” by definition, ‘bad’” and gave rise to the consensus among many Americans that Islam must be quarantined in one way or another.5 In fact, Muslims have been systematically excluded from Ground Zero in
Lower Manhattan and its surrounding area.
The prohibition against Islam in Lower Manhattan is best illustrated by the history of the place called Park51 located two blocks away from the WTC site. Originally named Cordoba
House, it was slated to be developed as an Islamic community center in Lower Manhattan.
Because of the anti-Muslim sentiment in the post-9/11 American society, this place was transformed eventually into a luxury 43-story condominium building.
Cordoba House was a collaboration between a real estate developer, Sharif El-Gamal, and a local Muslim cleric, Imam Feisal Abdul Rauf, whose ministry was in lower Manhattan. It was to be built as a part of the Cordoba Initiative that Rauf established in 2002. The name
Cordoba was taken after the city in Andalucia, Spain where several religions once coexisted.
This city is renowned for Mezquita, also known as the Great Mosque of Córdoba, one of the
3 Behind the Backlash: Muslim Americans After 9/11 (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 2011), 6. 4 In contrast, white people or their religion would never be held responsible for an act of terror, as Suheir Hammad, an Arab American poet, astutely points out in her poem “first writing since”: one more person ask me if i knew the hijackers. / one more motherfucker ask me what navy my brother is in. / one more person assume no arabs or muslims were killed. / one more person assume they know me, or that i represent a people. / or that a people represent an evil. or that evil is as simple as a / flag and words on a page. / we did not vilify all white men when mcveigh bombed oklahoma. / america did not give out his family’s addresses or where he went to / church. or blame the bible or pat robertson. This poem is collected in Trauma at Home: After 9/11, edited by Judith Greenberg (Lincoln: Bison Books, 2003), 141. While a white terrorist never disgraces white people as a race and the Christian faith, Muslims and Islam are racialized, or collectively demonized, because of the terrorists in charge of 9/11. 5 Good Muslim, Bad Muslim: America, the Cold War, and the Roots of Terror, (New York: Pantheon Books, 2004), 15.
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most well-known examples of Islamic architecture. It was built in the eighth century during the
Umayyad dynasty (756–1031) over the foundations of a Visigoth church.6 Based on the idea that, for a “time in Cordoba, … Jews, Christians and Muslims lived together and built together the most tolerant and enlightened society on earth,” Rauf named his initiative after this city, hoping that it would serve as a “multifaith organization” that would bridge different religious communities.7 His goal was “to repair the damage done to Muslim-American relations in recent years and to use this formula of a partnership between faith traditions (i.e., the Cordoba Initiative and Cordoba House) to build such a new Cordoba.”8
And yet, Cordoba House’s role to reach out to the resident community of Lower
Manhattan as a multifaith center was questioned. In the spring of 2010, a group called “Stop the
Islamization of America,” co-founded and led by two political commentators, Pamela Geller and
Robert Spencer, started the protest by calling it the “Ground Zero Mosque.” Claiming that “a
Cordoba House mosque and Islamic ‘cultural center’ would plant al Qaeda’s battle flag at the scene of their greatest victory,” some family members of the victims of 9/11 also strongly opposed the construction of this center.9 It soon became the focus of racial animosity toward
Muslims.10
6 The mosque was converted back into a Catholic cathedral in the thirteenth century following the Spanish Reconquest. 7 Imam Feisal Abdul Rauf, “Ground Zero and Islamophobia in America: Heling moderate Muslims,” https://www.wrmea.org/010-november/three-views.html (accessed February 28th). 8 Ibid. 9 Tim Sumner, “No Mosque; America’s Ruling Class never ‘Got’ 9/11,” https://911familiesforamerica.org/category/cordoba-house/ (accessed February 28th). 10 Islamophobia was also expressed at one of the sites of 9/11 attacks in Shanksville, Pennsylvania where hijacked United Airlines Flight 93 crashed. As a result of the multi-stage design competition that began on September 11th, 2004, Paul and Milena Murdoch’s Crescent of Embrace was selected as the memorial to be built. The design featured a “Tower of Voices,” which would “[reach] 93 feet into the sky” and “house 40 aluminum wind chimes”—one for each passenger and crew member who was on board Flight 93 [Paul Murdoch Architects, quoted in “Flight 93 National Memorial,” 81, https://ukla.ca.uky.edu/files/final_report_clw.pdf (accessed February 28th)]. The memorial’s crescent shape indicated by its name would have been formed by the perimeter of one-half of the Field of Honor.
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Although not every American was offended by Cordoba House, polls showed that the majority of the U.S. population, including New York State residents and New York City residents, found it objectionable. According to an Economist/YouGov national poll taken in the week of August 19, 2010, Americans thought that it would be wrong to build this Islamic center by a margin of 58–18%, with 25% undecided on the question.11
In addition, greatly offended by the mosque, some Americans explicitly expressed their hatred toward it. They produced a series of representations of a mosque in Lower Manhattan as a security threat. One of several anti-Muslim websites, for instance, used an image of an Ottoman mosque with an excerpt from a speech by the Turkish Prime Minister, Recep Erdogan, superimposed upon it to kindle fear in the minds of American citizens: “[t]he mosques are our barracks, the domes our helmets, the minarets our bayonets, and the faithful our soldiers.”12
Despite or precisely because no design of the Ground Zero Mosque was presented to the public to counter negative portrayals, it acquired an image of militant Islam. As Kishwar Rizvi, a professor of Islamic Art and Architecture at Yale University points out, an Orientalist images of a mosque with “its monumental dome casting a shadow over Ground Zero, and its minaret
This area is the circular area “link[ing] the entire memorial through sight lines and pathways.” The crescent shape would have been lined with “40 Memorial Groves, each of which “contain[s] 40 trees, such as sugar or red maples, for a total of 1,600 trees that radiate toward the center of the Field” (Ibid., 81-2). Some critics condemned this design as “a ‘jihadist’ symbol of Islamo-fascist religious ideology” pointing toward Mecca and called Crescent of Embrace “a ‘terrorist memorial mosque’” (quoted in Memorial Mania, 176). For instance, Tom Burnett Sr., jury member of the design competition, said, “I explained this (the crescent) goes back centuries as an old-time Islamic symbol…I told them we’d be a laughing stock if we did this” [quoted in “Designer of Flight 93 Memorial Receptive to Changes,” http://old.post-gazette.com/pg/05259/572574.stm (accessed February 28th)]. In response to this kind of condemnation, the Murdochs agreed to modify the memorial’s design: the modified one has the plain shape of a circle. In such a manner, Muslims were also paranoiacally excluded from the construction process of the Flight 93 National Memorial. 11 “The Economist/YouGov Poll,” http://media.economist.com/images/pdf/Toplines08192010.pdf (accessed February 28th). 12 “Some Thoughts on Ground Zero Mosque,” http://www.crethiplethi.com/some-thoughts-on-the- ground-zero-mosque/usa/2010/ (accessed February 28th).
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piercing the New York City skyline, like a victory stele” were extensively “used in satire[s] as well as political propaganda” to equate Muslims with terrorists, or the enemy-others of the U.S.13
The controversy over Cordoba House damaged the partnership between El-Gamal and
Rauf. Eventually, its name was changed to Park51 by El-Gamal after its street address.
Recognizing the need to diffuse the aforementioned stereotypical images attached to this Islamic center, he brought in Michel Abboud, the principal of SOMA Architects. For the architect, “the immediate goal was to negate the virulent media onslaught, with its stock of caricatures of mosques … , with a more benign image; one that would resettle the project back to the context of
New York.”14 To achieve this end, while relying on ideas of Islamic geometric patterning,
Abboud gave form to Park51 by making use of computer programming. In addition, to make it less “threatening” to various communities of faith in New York City, he relegated the “prayer space” of this Islamic center to the basement area so that it would be hidden from public display.15
Despite this architectural concession, anti-Muslim sentiment against Park51 did not subside.16 El-Gamal, therefore, decided not to pursue it but to take a much more standard step in
13 “Transnational Architecture, Ethics, and the Reification of History: Park51 Islamic Community Center in New York City,” 47 https://arthistory.yale.edu/sites/default/files/files/Rizvi_Park51%20Islamic%20Cultural%20Center(1).pdf (accessed February 28th). 14 Ibid., 48. 15 While the media and opponents described Park51 as a mosque, the term “prayer space” was deliberately used by its developers. For instance, Daisy Khan, Imam Rauf’s wife, in August 2010 also said, “We insist on calling it a prayer space and not a mosque, because you can use a prayer space for activities apart from prayer. You can’t stop anyone who is a Muslim despite his religious ideology from entering the mosque and staying there. With a prayer space, we can control who gets to use it” [quoted in “Zero Tolerance and Cordoba House,” https://www.ft.com/content/bf1110d8-a5b0-11df-a5b7- 00144feabdc0)]. This Islamic center was, they argued, disqualified as a mosque because it was to be built as a multifaceted complex consisting of a theater, performing arts center, fitness center, swimming pool, basketball court, childcare area, bookstore, culinary school, art studio, food court, and so forth. 16 “Condo Tower to Rise Where Muslim Community Center Was Proposed,” https://www.nytimes.com/2017/05/12/realestate/muslim-museum-world-trade-center.html (accessed February 28th).
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New York City by transforming the site into “a very expensive glass and steel tower for the very rich.”17 The name Park 51 is gone. This tower is now a 43-story condominium with “a much smaller, three-story Islamic museum and public plaza, designed by Jean Nouvel, but no mosque.”18 It was, therefore, the crude exclusion of Islam in the post-911 American society that guided and dictated the development of Park51, a part of Lower Manhattan almost adjacent to the WTC site. Prevented from challenging the racial animosity toward Muslims, the former Park
51 turned into a prime real estate and capitalist’s venture. That Muslims were denied a place to practice their religion in the vicinity of Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan eventually led to the abandonment of Park51.
Other others
The Ground Zero memorial complex itself—not unlike its surrounding area—has also been reconstructed through the exclusion of certain others, but not necessarily Muslims. There were, in other words, “other others” who have been kept out of the Ground Zero memorial complex. In order to clarify this point, let us review the unrealized plan for a cultural center named the International Freedom Center (IFC) and its unfortunate history. The plan for this center was eventually eliminated because certain other others were slated to be included in the remembrance of 9/11 at the WTC site.
The IFC was originally designed to be a part of the Ground Zero memorial complex. In
2004, the Lower Manhattan Development Corporation selected this cultural center as the plan for the site’s museum. Through the support of many organizers such as George Soros, a billionaire
17 Ibid. 18 Ibid.
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supporter of progressive-liberal political agendas including human rights, public health, and education, Tom Bernstein, who served on the board of Human Rights First, executive director of the American Civil Liberties Union Anthony Romero whose expertise lay in the areas of civil rights, affirmative action, immigrant rights, and lesbian/gay rights, and Eric Foner, a leading contemporary historian of the post-Civil War Reconstruction period, the IFC was promoted as an institution to “offer museum exhibits, educational programs, service and civic initiatives that
[would] explore freedom as a constantly-evolving world movement,” or to present “ongoing struggles for freedom.19
The IFC was conceptually far-reaching. It was an attempt to “[document] historical injustices … and [chronicle] campaigns against human rights abuses around the world” to situate
9/11 in a world historical context with an emphasis on freedom.20 “International” historical events that were not explicitly connected to the terrorist attacks in 2001 on American soil were proposed for this cultural center. Included in them were exhibits on the Holocaust by the Nazi regime, South Africa’s apartheid, the Soviet system of forced labor camps in the Stalin era called the gulag, and so forth.
Although the IFC’s scope was international as indicated by its name, national issues would also be discussed there. In an interview, president and chief operating officer of this cultural center, Richard Tofel, emphasized the importance of paying attention to chapters of oppression in American history to tell the full story of freedom in the U.S., by saying, “You can’t talk about freedom without talking about slavery.”21 According to him, in order to avoid being
“intellectually dishonest,” it was necessary to historicize how the U.S. had been founded upon
19 “The International Freedom Center: Content and Governance Report,” 2 http://www.renewnyc.com/content/pdfs/IFC_submission.pdf (accessed February 28th). 20 Greenspan, Battle for Ground Zero, 133. 21 Ibid., 134.
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the sacrifice of the enslaved who were forcibly brought from Africa through the Middle Passage during the time of the Atlantic slave trade.
Another national issue slated for inclusion in the IFC was the genocide of Native people.
Simply put, the U.S. was a product of this genocide because it was established and developed through the violent confiscation of Native land. The latter was expropriated by European colonizers who believed that their endeavor in America was justifiable; they claimed that they were only cultivating the land wasted by Native people.22 Consequently, in the process of the colonization of the territory later known as the U.S., irreparable damage was inflicted on Native people: millions of them were deceived, exploited, chased off, and killed by European colonizers.23 In order to avoid being “intellectually dishonest” and in order to be accountable to once thriving Native nations, an exhibit about the genocide of Native people was proposed for this cultural center.
Precisely because this cultural center would include a wider scope not limited to the events of 9/11, it drew strong opposition from some family members of the victims of 9/11.
Gathering under the slogan of “9/11 Not World History,” they protested against the IFC and its intention to juxtapose the terrorist attacks in 2001 on American soil with exhibits and displays
22 Tracing the genealogy of liberalism in terms of the freedom of commerce, Mark Neocleous reveals that the concepts of cultivation and waste theorized by thinkers such as Hugo Grotius were behind the process of the colonization of the Americas: “[t]hings which are ‘uncultivated’ and ‘untilled’ become open to appropriation in order that they might not be wasted” [War Power, Police Power (Edinburgh : Edinburgh University Press), 71]. Driven by this kind of thinking, European colonizers took away the land from Native people with force. In European colonizers’ minds, “there exists a fundamental right to wage war to appropriate certain types of territory not being ‘properly’ used by indigenous peoples” and thus avoid being wasted (Ibid., 72). 23 Since the depopulation rate of the Native people during this process was extraordinarily high, David Stannard calls it “the great American Indian Holocaust” in his book titled American Holocaust: The Conquest of the New World. According to Stannard, “[w]ithin no more than a handful of generations following their first encounters with Europeans, the vast majority of Western Hemisphere’s native peoples had been exterminated” (x). For instance, “between 95 and 98 percent of California’s Indians had been exterminated in little more than a century” (146).
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about genocides and crimes against humanity not only in the U.S. but also throughout the world.24 In particular, Debra Burlingame, sister of Charles “Chic” Burlingame III, pilot of the hijacked American Airlines Flight 77, harshly attacked the concept of this cultural center. She denounced it while celebrating the visitation of three wounded Marines returning from Iraq at the
“wreath-laying ceremony at the empty pit of Ground Zero” performed on 2005 Memorial Day weekend:
The organizers of … the International Freedom Center (IFC) have stated that they
intend to take us on a “journey through the history of freedom”––but do not be
fooled into thinking that their idea of freedom is the same as that of those
Marines. To the IFC’s organizers, it is not only history’s triumphs that illuminate,
also its failures. The public will have come to see 9/11 but will be given a high-
tech, multimedia tutorial about man’s inhumanity to man, from Native American
genocide to the lynchings and cross-burnings of the Jim Crow South, from the
Third Reich’s Final Solution to the Soviet gulags and beyond. This is a history all
should know and learn, but dispensing it over the ashes of Ground Zero is like
creating a Museum of Tolerance over the sunken graves of the USS Arizona.25
On the one hand, Burlingame ostensibly acknowledged the need for remembering atrocities other than “the worst attack on American soil in the history of the republic.”26 On the other hand, however, she found it unacceptable to include them in the commemoration of 9/11 at the site of the terrorist attacks. For herself and other family members who regarded this site as the sacred, hallowed ground where innocent and heroic people had been killed and many of them still
24 Battle for Ground Zero, 133. 25 “The Great Ground Zero Heist,” https://www.wsj.com/articles/SB111810145819652326 (accessed February 28th). 26 Ibid.
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remained buried and unidentified, allocating a large part of it to the IFC was nothing but an “un-
American” act of desecration.27 According to those who condemned this proposed cultural center, at Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan, visitors should learn not about extraneous “world- historical” events but about the stories of those victims of 9/11 such as “the courageous young firefighter whose body, cut in half, was found with his legs entwined around the body of a woman”28
Pressured by those opposing the IFC, then-Governor of New York George E. Pataki barred its construction. He said, “[W]e will not tolerate anything on that site that denigrates
America, denigrates New York or freedom, or denigrates the sacrifice or courage that the heroes showed on September 11.”29 For Pataki, only a certain kind of sacrifice was worthy of recognition. By terminating the plan for the IFC, he denied acknowledging the sacrifices made by the enslaved and Native people in the formation of the U.S. For whatever reason, for Pataki, their inclusion at the Ground Zero memorial complex would denigrate America.
In the U.S., the exclusion of others is nothing new. They have been marginalized on many occasions. “Teaching Hard History: American History,” a report by the Teaching
Tolerance project of the nonprofit Southern Poverty Law Center, for instance, reveals that there has been a lack of attention to the enslaved in U.S. history education despite the following fact:
American enslavement of Africans defined the nature and limits of American
liberty; it influenced the creation and development of the major political and
27 “A Sense of Proportion at Ground Zero,” https://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/29/opinion/a-sense-of- proportion-at-ground-zero.html (accessed February 28th). 28 “The Great Ground Zero Heist.” 29 Quoted in Battle for Ground Zero, 140.
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social institutions of the nation; and it was a cornerstone of the American
prosperity that fueled our industrial revolution.30
In other words, slavery played a central role in the development of the U.S. And yet, educators are not required to teach about the horror of human bondage in at least 15 states where the research for “Teaching Hard History” was conducted.31 Furthermore, “[p]opular textbooks” used nationwide in the U.S. “fail to provide comprehensive coverage of slavery and enslaved peoples”32 Even when slavery is taught, it is often decontextualized, and students learn not
“about the lives of the millions of enslaved people, or about how their labor was essential to the
American economy,” but about…‘feel good’ stories” of abolitionists and emancipation.33 As such, the enslaved are denied a place in mainstream American history.
Likewise, the genocide of Native people has rarely received due recognition in mainstream American history. On this point, Shannon Speed, a professor of Anthropology at the
University of California, Los Angeles, makes an astute comment. Lamenting that “virtually none of [her] university students has had any education whatsoever in the history of this country’s treatment of the 10 million or so people who lived here before Europeans arrived,” Speed
30 “Teaching Hard History: American Slavery,” https://www.scribd.com/document/370618062/Tt-Hard- History-American-Slavery-1#from_embed (accessed February 28th). 31 Ibid. 32 Ibid. 33 Ibid. Students are, in other words, provided a whitewashed version of national history. On this point, “Teaching Hard History: American Slavery” identified the following seven key problems with the ways in which slavery is (not) taught in the U.S.: “[w]e teach about slavery without context, preferring to present the good news before the bad”; “[w]e tend to subscribe to a progressive view of American history that can acknowledge flaws only to the extent that they have been addressed and solved”; “[w]e teach about the American enslavement of Africans as an exclusively southern institution”; “[w]e rarely connect slavery to the ideology (of white supremacy) that grew up to sustain and protect it”; “[w]e often rely on pedagogy poorly suited to the topic”; “[w]e rarely make connections to the present”; “We tend to center on the white experience when we teach about slavery.”
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criticizes the “pro-American” history which those students have been exposed to in schools.34
This is, she argues, a sanitized version of national history in which the “negative aspects” of the
U.S. such as the fact that the U.S. expanded by systematically eliminating Native Americans via official policies and acts of Congress with names like ‘removal,’ ‘reorganization,’ ‘termination,’ and ‘relocation’” are omitted, and this version of history is what students usually receive in the history education in the U.S.35
The elimination of the IFC was another instance where others were excluded. It illustrates that neither slavery nor the genocide of Native people were acknowledged as part of the national trauma at Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan. Rather, while the victims of 9/11 were prioritized, those bearing witness to a series of difficult yet foundational pasts of the U.S. were marginalized.36 In such a manner, the WTC site was reconstructed as a place where a certain
34 “‘Pro-American’ History Textbooks Hurt Native Americans,” https://www.huffingtonpost.com/shannon-speed/proamerican-history-textb_b_6199070.html (accessed February 28th). 35 Ibid. 36 This kind of marginalization through the memory of 9/11 is a “collateral damage” entailing the remembrance of 9/11. For instance, the damage was done in terms of the date September 11th. This date is significant in American history not only because it was when the terrorist attacks happened in 2001 on American soil but also because it was when the U.S.-orchestrated coup d’état happened in Chile. On September 11th in 1973, then Chilean President Salvador Allende, who had been democratically elected by the people of Chile, was overthrown by the armed forces and national police covertly supported by the CIA as a part of American Cold War politics. Allende was targeted for his socialist intention to nationalize the copper industry in Chile in order to protect Chilean workers. Determined to prevent the implementation of his nationalization policy contrary to the U.S. national interests, the Nixon administration intervened and supported Allende’s opponents. In this sense, the U.S. made possible the coup against the Chile’s democratically elected socialist government, and the September 11th is a date signifying the U.S. aggression that caused trauma in the other country. Such an aggression is not an exception but, historically speaking, a part of the tradition of American foreign policy. In fact, the U.S. has overthrown foreign governments, many of which were democratically elected, to pursue its economic interests not only in the western hemisphere but also all over the world. Those overthrows are mostly attributable to the two brothers: John Foster Dulles and Allen Dulles. Respectively working as a secretary of state and a director of the CIA in the 1950s during the Cold War, they plotted covert operations against foreign governments for the sake of American business. The brothers succeeded in Guatemala and Iran, and their way of “diplomacy” has been repeated ever since to the Global War on Terror in the twenty-first century. For more detailed analysis of the brothers’ schemes, see Stephen Kinzer, The Brothers: John Foster Dulles, Allen Dulles, and Their Secret World War (New York: Times Books, 2013). The coup in
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historical discourse would be selectively narrated over others and as a result, an “official
American history” promoted.
Slavery and Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan
Considering the history of Manhattan, the IFC’s initial plan to include the exhibit about the enslaved was appropriate. This is because the neighborhood of the WTC site, or Manhattan itself, was once one of the epicenters of slavery in America during the time of the Atlantic slave trade. The present-day Wall Street area adjacent to this site was, for instance, where the first slave auction in what was called New Amsterdam at that time took place in 1655 and subsequently, the Municipal Slave Market operated from 1711 to 1762. 37 In fact,
“[s]laves…were among the workers that built the wall that Wall Street is named for.”38 They
“also cleared forest land for the construction of Broadway” and paved roads.39 As Leslie M.
Harris points out, Manhattan was a land of blacks: whether under the Dutch or British control,
Chile was one of the examples of the brothers’ legacy. As such, the U.S. has a long tradition of breaching democracy, and the date September 11th can be a signifier of this tradition. Such a signification of this date, however, has become hardly recognizable, at least in the U.S., since September 11th, in 2001. In American society, the date September 11th is no longer able to function as a mnemonic signifier of violence through which to evocatively and symptomatically represent the undemocratic, (neo)colonial, character of the U.S. that was exemplarily presented in Chile in 1973. Instead, what is being remembered by this date is only 9/11. As Elizabeth Jelin theorizes by the term “memory against memory,” the memory of the coup in Chile in 1973—one of the difficult pasts of the U.S.—is not simply forgotten but rather displaced by another memory, namely the memory of 9/11 [Elizabeth Jelin, State Repression and the Labors of Memory (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press), xviii]. In other words, only the latter is nationally evoked by the date September 11th, and, as a result, the former is silenced. 37 A quote from “New York’s Municipal Slave Market,” official plaque placed just a block from Water Street/Pearl Street where this market once stood. In 2015, the New York City Council approved this historical marker that would acknowledge the contributions of slaves to the foundation of early New York City and to the development of its economy. 38 Ibid. In addition, the first Trinity Church sitting right next to the WTC site is another product of slave labor. And yet, “the burial of people of African descent in Trinity’s churchyards” was forbidden at that time [“Unearthing Our Past,” https://www.trinitywallstreet.org/blogs/news/unearthing-our-past (accessed February 28th)]. 39 Ibid.
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“[a]s in the South, black slave labor was central to the day-to-day survival and the economic life of Europeans in the colonial North, and no part of the colonial North relied more heavily on slavery than Manhattan.”40
The forced sacrifice of the enslaved was essential for New York City’s development. In the early 1700s, almost half of the households had a handful of slaves primarily for domestic work.41 There were also ones who were forced to labor as skilled artisans and craftsmen for shipping, construction, and other trades “such as…tailoring, blacksmithing, shoemaking, baking, and butchering.”42 As the city grew, so did the number of the enslaved. By the mid 18th century, one-fifth the population of New York City consisted of slaves. Deeply indebted to human bondage, the city “had the largest number of enslaved Africans of any English colonial settlement except Charleston, South Carolina” as well as “the highest proportion of slaves to
Europeans of any northern settlement.”43
The American Revolution did little to change the situation of slavery in New York City.
Although manumissions proceeded in one way or another after the revolutionary war, many slaves in the city still remained unfree.44 Their subordinate status was maintained even when “An
40 Leslie M. Harris, In the Shadow of Slavery: African Americans in New York City, 1626-1863 (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2004), 11. The practice of human bondage was introduced in the New York City area by the Dutch West India Company in about 1626. The first 11 slaves—most likely from West Africa—were all men. Subsequently, this chartered company of Dutch merchants “promoted family life among its slaves” and thus “imported the first black female slaves, three women allegedly purchased for ‘the comfort of the company’s Negro men’” (21). Although the Dutch system of slavery was not mild by any means, after the English took over New Amsterdam in 1664, the condition of enslavement became much more severe;“[t]he variety of rights and privileges” such as “relatively good opportunities to form families, and access to courts and some forms of property” that had been “enjoyed by African slaves by New Amsterdam” were rescinded under the British rules of slavery (22). 41 “New York’s Municipal Slave Market.”[https://www.nycgovparks.org/parks/manahatta- park/highlights/19696 (accessed February 28th)]. 42 Harris, In the Shadow of Slavery, 30. 43 Spencer P.M. Harrington, “Bones & Bureaucrats: New York's Great Cemetery Imbroglio,” https://archive.archaeology.org/online/features/afrburial/ (accessed February 28th). 44 For instance, during the American Revolutionary War, Britain offered freedom to slaves in the rebellious American colonies including New York City, and called on them to flee and join the British
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Act for the Gradual Abolition of Slavery” was passed through the state legislature in 1799. By this act, the enslaved were only nominally liberated. For instance, while children born to slave mothers after July 4, 1799, were considered legally free, they nevertheless had to serve as indentured servants to their mothers’ masters until age 28 for men and 25 for women.45 Those children were, in other words, still treated as the property of those masters. What is worse, all the enslaved who were already in human bondage before July 4, 1799, were reclassified as indentured servants with no age limit. In effect, they remained slaves for life.”46
Material evidence of slavery in New York City still persists in the netherworld adjacent to Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan. In October, 1991, a part of the eighteenth-century
“Negroes Burial Ground” was discovered by the General Services Administration (GSA) in the underground area of Foley Square in Lower Manhattan. This occurred when a U.S. government agency conducted an archeological survey for the construction of a federal office building later known as the Ted Weiss Federal Building. While the intact remains of 419 men, women, and children of African descent—some free, many enslaved—were eventually excavated, it became clear that the physical extent of the site officially called the “African Burial Ground” extended
side. This was done in part to suppress the American Revolution by causing economic damage to the rebel Americans. 45 Harris, In the Shadow of Slavery, 70. As Jennifer Morgan argues in Laboring Women: Reproduction and Gender in New World Slavery (Philadelphia: University Pennsylvania Press, 2004), the issue of reproduction was central to the institution of slavery in the colonial landscape. Since slave mothers’ children were automatically—regardless of their fathers’ status—classified as the property of those mothers’ masters under the colonial law, slaveowners in the New World calculated and took advantage of the reproductive labor power of female black bodies for their economic success, or for the purpose of sustaining and increasing their property. This crude calculation persisted for some time even after the legislation of an Act for the Gradual Abolition of Slavery in 1780. 46 Therefore, under the Gradual Emancipation Law of 1799, one had to be born free. Otherwise, s/he could not help but being “dependent” on white masters in one way or another. Reducing blacks to “a special, lower class of citizens and workers who needed extra aid,” this law in effect “hindered (supposedly) freed blacks’ attempts to become equal members of the political economy of New York City (Harris, In the Shadow of Slavery, 71).
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well beyond this area. It was estimated that “over 20,000 Africans [had been] buried across the five-acre burial ground during the 17th and 18th centuries.”47
In 1992, it was decided to construct a memorial to mark this discovery.48 In the first place, the Ted Weiss Federal Building was redesigned to preserve the area of the archeological site of the African Burial Ground for the purpose of memorialization. Subsequently, GSA ran a design competition for what would become the African Burial Ground National Monument. As a result of this competition, which garnered 60 proposals, the one by Rodney Leon in partnership with Nicole Hollant-Denis, AARRIS Architects, was selected as the winning design. The proposal consisted of the following elements: a “Wall of Remembrance,” “Ancestral Re- internment Grove,” “Memorial Wall,” “The Ancestral Chamber,” “Circle of the Diaspora,”
“Spiral Processional Ramp,” and “Ancestral Libation Court.”49 These seven elements, Leon argued, would allow the memorial “to physically, spiritually, ritualistically and psychologically
47 “The African Burial Ground (ABG) in New York City,” https://coas.howard.edu/content/african-burial- ground-abg-new-york-city (accessed February 28th). As a part of “the single-most important, historic urban archaeological project undertaken in the United States,” the Howard University team conducted forensic studies of those 419 remains (Ibid.). After the completion of them, all the remains were reburied with honor in the Rites of Ancestral Return ceremony in 2003. What is important to note here is that while those 419 remains constitutes only a fraction of the Negroes Burial Ground, the rest buried there is left unattended. This makes a significant contrast with the identification process of the remains of the victims of 9/11; in the case of the terrorist attacks, the jurisdiction of the Office of Chief Medical Examiner of the City of New York pledges to continue DNA testings and required forensic studies until the last victim will be identified. 48 This decision was made after some commotions between the GSA and the African American community in the New York City: while the former was going to continue the construction of the Ted Weiss Federal Building, the latter protested and intervened, claiming that it was not sufficiently consulted and that proper respect was not given to those excavated and yet-to-be-excavated remains. Some protestors even did a 26-hour vigil at the site where the remains had been found. Because of the African- American community’s activism and lobbying effort to Congress, “President George H. W. Bush signed Public Law 103-393 ordering GSA to stop” its original construction plan and “approved the appropriation of up to $3 million to finance…the proper memorialization of the African Burial Ground” [“Ancestral Chamber,” https://www.nps.gov/afbg/learn/historyculture/ancestral-chamber.htm (accessed February 28th)]. 49 “Memorial Description,” https://www.nps.gov/afbg/learn/historyculture/upload/Rodney-Leon- Memorial.pdf (accessed February 28th).
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define the location where the historic re-interment of remains and artifacts of 419 Africans has taken place.”50 In 2007, the construction of the African Burial Ground National Monument was completed, and it was dedicated at Duane Street and Elk Street—later renamed the African
Burial Ground Way—in the Civic Center section of Lower Manhattan “to commemorate the financial and physical contributions of enslaved Africans in colonial New York (and in the U.S.,) and honor their memory.”51
In addition, in 2010, the African Burial Ground National Monument Visitor Center opened. Its exhibits examined topics including the archeology of the Negroes Burial Ground, the
Atlantic slave trade, colonial enslavement in New York City, and African American communities’ civic engagements at the site and beyond. With these exhibits, this center was expected to function as a place that intervenes in mainstream American history by reclaiming memories of the enslaved and excavating “things that [were] hidden from view, buried.”52
Two institutions, therefore, exist at/around Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan, separated by their representations of American history. There has not been any collaborative work between the Ground Zero memorial complex and the African American Burial Ground, despite the
“proximity” between the WTC site and the Negroes Burial Ground. Geographically speaking, these two sites are only several blocks apart; it takes less than 15 minutes to walk from one place
50 Ibid. 51 “”History & Culture,” https://www.nps.gov/afbg/learn/historyculture/index.htm (accessed February 28th). 52 The caption in the African Burial Ground National Monument Visitor Center. At the African Burial Ground National Monument Visitor Center, for instance, the lack of attention to the enslaved in the history education in the U.S. is critically attended to. Through the exhibits about the Atlantic slave trade/the Middle Passage, about slave labor that built New York City and its wealth, and about repercussions of slavery in the present American society, the issue of enslavement is contextualized not as an exclusively southern institution but as a national and even transnational phenomenon. There are also exhibits displaying experiences of the enslaved and thus countering the whitewashing of slavery.
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to the other. It is also even possible that the latter reached further underground to the former.53
Moreover, for some critics, this proximity was apparent even on the day of 9/11. African
American Journalist Ta-Nehisi Coates, for instance, describes his reaction to the terrorist attacks in the following manner:
I suppose everyone who was in New York that day has a story. Here is mine: That
evening, I stood on the roof of an apartment building with your mother, your aunt
Chana, and her boyfriend, Jamal. So we were there on the roof, talking and taking
in the sight—great plumes of smoke covered Manhattan Island. Everyone knew
someone who knew someone who was missing. But looking out upon America,
my heart was cold. I had disasters all my own … I was out of sync with the city. I
kept thinking about how southern Manhattan had always been Ground Zero for
us. They auctioned our bodies down there, in that same devastated, and rightly
named, financial district. And there was once a burial ground for the auctioned
there … I had not formed any of this into a coherent theory. But I did know that
Bin Laden was not the first man to bring terror to that section of the city. 54
53 Since “[g]raves in the areas beyond” the site where the remains were found had been “destroyed by the construction of buildings” in Lower Manhattan, and since the extent of the Negroes Burial Ground was too large to be fully excavated,” its exact borders cannot be definitively determined (the caption in the African Burial Ground National Monument Visitor Center). More importantly, there must be Muslim slaves among those buried because a number of West African slaves in America were Muslims. According to Manning Marable, “As European states colonized the Americas and the Caribbean in the sixteenth century, they ultimately transported about fifteen million chattel slaves into their respective colonies. A significant minority were Muslims: of the approximately 650,000 involuntarily taken to what would become the United States, Muslims made up about 7 or 8 percent (Malcolm X: A Life of Reinvention [New York: Penguin Books, 2011], 80). The following assumption, therefore, would not be too out of bounds: while Muslims have been excluded from Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan and its neighboring area, the WTC site has been always already lying on some Muslim slaves’ remains. 54 Ta-Nehisi Coates, Between the World and Me (New York: Spiegel & Grau, 2015), 86-7.
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It would not be, therefore, entirely inappropriate if the Ground Zero memorial complex initiates an invitation to visitors to take a detour to the African American Burial Ground and remember not only 9/11 but also slavery as a significant chapter in the U.S. national history in Lower
Manhattan. And yet, no effort to offer such an affiliated remembrance has been taken at the memorial complex. On the contrary, it has come into existence precisely through the denial of this kind of remembrance, as the elimination of the IFC confirms.55
Those Included in the Inside
The discussion so far illustrates that the vicinity of Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan and the WTC site itself have been reconstructed through the exclusion of certain others. Through this exclusion, the site has become a memorial complex where U.S. national history is sanitized. It is,
I argue, important to identify who are those others to do justice to their memories, or to rectify historical revisionism. The discussion of exclusion, however, does not end here; it would never fail to give rise to the following questions: who are then those physically and mnemonically included inside the Ground Zero memorial complex?; what kind of place does the inclusion of certain subjects create? In other words, the issue of inclusion needs to be attended to.
American Victims
55 In addition to the African Burial Ground National Monument Visitor Center, some attempts have been made in Lower Manhattan for reclaiming memories of the enslaved. The aforementioned plaque is one of them. The New-York Historical Society also held the exhibition titled “Slavery in New York” to showcase “the rediscovery of the collective and personal experiences of Africans and African-Americans in New York City,” from October 7, 2005 to March 26, 2006 [“Tour the Slavery in New York Galleries,” http://www.slaveryinnewyork.org/tour_galleries.htm (accessed February 28th)]. Its virtual exhibition is still open online [http://www.slaveryinnewyork.org/index.html (accessed February 28th)]. In other words, around the Ground Zero memorial complex, there are organizations eager to reveal the centrality of slavery in the development of the city and, by extension, the U.S. And yet, it seems that this memorial complex is unwilling to reach out to those organizations.
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Arguably, those who lost their lives on September 11th, 2001 are among the included ones. They are, for instance, “represented” by the National September 11 Memorial Reflecting
Absence. As will be illustrated in detail in Chapter Two, Michael Arad, an Israeli-American architect, designed the memorial as the two massive pools. On their rims, the names of the victims are engraved. In the National September 11 Museum, there is a permanent exhibition called In Memoriam where each victim’s portrait photograph is displayed.56 In addition, the site is literally a tomb for the victims of 9/11. The impact of the terrorist attacks was so severe that many of the victims’ bodies were pulverized beyond recognition. While an effort to “collect” them was made primarily by the city of New York, 40 percent of the victims have not been identified. Consequently, numerous unidentified body parts still remain to be genetically inspected. Under the custody of the New York City Office of Chief Medical Examiner, in 2014, those unidentified body parts were ceremoniously transferred from its office on 26th street to
Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan to be stored in one section of the National 9/11 Museum called
Remains Repository.57 The victims of 9/11 have been at the forefront of the commemorative attention at the WTC site.
This, however, does not necessarily mean that all the victims are equally receiving attention. On the contrary, there is a hierarchical structure at work. The hierarchy becomes apparent at the annual commemoration ceremony held at the memorial complex. Every year, starting from 8:46 a.m., the time when the first plane hit the North Tower, a commemorative ceremony is performed for the victims of 9/11 by some of their family members against the
56 For the further analysis of this exhibition, see Chapter 3. 57 “In ‘Ceremonial Transfer,’ Remains of 9/11 Victims Are Moved to Memorial,” https://www.nytimes.com/2014/05/11/nyregion/remains-of-9-11-victims-are-transferred-to-trade-center- site.html (accessed February 28th). This repository is located between the museum’s permanent exhibitions. More discussion will follow in Chapter 3.
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background of the Ground Zero memorial complex and witnessed by people gathering at the site and viewers watching on TV or through online streaming video. The annual commemoration ceremony is one of the venues where those considered worthy of being included are brought forward into the public eye. On the surface, every one of the victims of 9/11 is commemorated there. The ceremony proceeds as family members of the victims of 9/11 call out the name of every victim. It is read aloud in alphabetical order by a pair of selected family members at the podium set in the middle of the Ground Zero memorial complex. Each family member respectively calls out around twenty names allotted to her/him in turn and gives a memorial tribute to her/his loved one.
From listening to and viewing the annual commemoration ceremony, it looks inclusive.
Those selected family members who take the podium are diverse in terms of age, gender, and race. There are kids, adults, and seniors, women and men, whites and people of color. On some points, however, this ceremony is not inclusive. One of them is nationality.58 It is primarily
American family members who give memorial tributes, despite the fact that non-Americans died in the event.59 In many cases, they often emphasize how the deceased were good American
58 Another point would be religion. As in the case of Cordoba House, the presence of Muslims is not appreciated at the Ground Zero memorial complex. The tribute by a family member who said that her uncle was “a proud Muslim American man” was almost disrupted by the holler from the audience. See https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=35zF5cCZE38 (accessed February 28th), 1:30:46. 59 Since the National September 11 Memorial and Museum did not release to third parties the guidelines for the annual commemoration ceremony, I checked all the footages of the ceremonies in past years made available by the mayors’ offices of New York City. Many hours of investigation revealed that almost all of the family members had spoken in so-called American English. There are only a few exceptions. At the ceremony in 2011, for instance, a woman started her tribute in Spanish [“Mayor Bloomberg speaks at 9- 11 Ten Year Anniversary Commemoration Ceremony,” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lhIM1St4NMQ (accessed February 28th), 45:34]. In 2018, a pair of women speaking heavily accented English took the podium together. The former, however, quickly switched to American English. One of the latter wrapped herself up in the national flag of the U.S. and gave the following tribute: “God bless all the victims and God bless America. Always great America” [“2018 September 11th Commemoration Ceremony,” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qmAKp-QfxS0 (accessed February 28th), 2:41:31]. These two examples attest to Sara Ahmed’s cautionary insight that only “the differences that can be taken on and in by the nation, those that will not breach the ideal image
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mothers, fathers, daughters, sons, wives, and husbands, as exemplified in the following memorial tributes:
And my husband Gary Eugene Bird, a third generation made of, of Arizona who
loved the wide open spaces. A humble and caring humanitarian concerned daily
with the goodness of his community. A father always present to our two children
and many others drawn to his gentle yet tough love. A husband who brought out
in me the best version of myself every joyful day of our short 20 years together.
Rest in peace, my love.60
And my father Joseph John Hasson III. Although I was only three-month-old and
never really met you, Mom always tells how I’m exactly like you and that makes
me very proud to be your son. I will always follow in your footsteps. I know
you up there watching over me. We all love and miss you like crazy. God bless
you and God, God bless America.61
While the American victims are featured, non-U.S. citizens among the victims of 9/11 are not commemorated as foreign nationals. Although it was the “World” Trade Center that was targeted in New York City and thus there were foreign nationals who were killed at this site on
September 11th, 2001, the losses caused by the terrorist attacks are depluralized and defined as
“American” during the ceremony. In fact, its setting is nationally framed from the outset. The
of the nation” are permitted [Cultural Politics of Emotion (New York: Routledge, 2014), 138]. At the annual commemoration ceremony, the diversity among the family members is acknowledged as long as it is within the national framework. 60 “September 11th Commemoration Ceremony,” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L1y8ESzI0hg (accessed February 28th), 53:10. 61 “Mayor de Blasio Attends September 11th Commemoration Ceremony,” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=seIC-LXqw30 (accessed February 28th), 2:55:18.
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name-calling procedure is preceded by a sequence of national commemorative performances, including the “presentation of colors,” which commands respect for U.S. military personnel and the U.S. The annual commemoration ceremony begins with the march of men in uniform holding the U.S. national flag. Followed by a band of bagpipers, the flag bearers circled around
Reflecting Absence and proceed to the stage. Once they reach a designated spot on the stage, the bearers halt and present the flag. After this presentation, a chorus group starts to sing the national anthem. Within this national setting, the commemoration of American victims is prioritized over foreign victims.
American Service Members
The annual commemoration ceremony suggests that the Ground Zero memorial complex is a place for American citizens. What is important to note here is that some of the other
Americans who are not directly related to 9/11 are also included just because they are considered
“model American citizens.” As pointed out above, Debra Burlingame, for instance, celebrated the visitation of three wounded Marines to the site that she regarded as sacred. For Debra
Burlingame, who found it blasphemous to include those unrelated to 9/11 inside Ground Zero in
Lower Manhattan and denounced the IFC, these Marines were worthy of being included. She welcomed them into the commemoration at the Ground Zero memorial complex where “others” were denied a place, whereas these Marines were most likely traumatized not by 9/11 but by the war fought in the Middle East and thus should be categorized as “others.”
As such, along with the American victims of 9/11, American service members are favorably received at the Ground Zero memorial complex.62 In fact, their inclusion has become
62 American veterans among the victims of 9/11 are also specifically commemorated: on Veterans Day, yellow roses are prepared for more than 250 victims who served in the U.S. military, and placed at their names engraved on Reflecting Absence
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the official policy at the site. As Joe Daniels, the then-president and CEO of the National
September 11 Memorial and Museum, publicly said, “The 9/11 Memorial welcomes many active and retired U.S. military service members…These men and women deserve our gratitude and a promise that they will always be honored and remembered at this sacred place.”63 This promise is stipulated in the institution’s code of conduct. While it prohibits visitors “to draw a crowd of on-lookers,” those “who are active members of the United States Armed Forces” and
“veterans”—as well as “first responders”—are allowed “to hold official ceremonies on the
(Memorial) Plaza.64”
In addition, around Veterans Day, the National September 11 Memorial and Museum organizes a series of programs and events called “Salute to Service.” Described as a “tribute honoring veterans, active-duty members of the military, and their families,” Salute to Service follows a particular procedure. According to an email sent out by the National September 11
Memorial & Museum to its mailing list, prior to Veterans Day:
Our Salute to Service began on Wednesday when United States Army
recruits from the Bronx, N.Y., participated in a swearing-in ceremony on the
Memorial, which included recognition of local organizations dedicated to
supporting veterans and their families.
Programming continued on Thursday, when members of the FDNY,
NYPD, and PAPD placed American flags on the Memorial at the names of first
responders killed on 9/11 who were also veterans.
63 “9/11 Memorial Welcomes Active, Retired U.S. Military Service Members,” https://www.911memorial.org/blog/911-memorial-welcomes-active-retired-us-military-service-members (accessed February 28th). 64 “Visitor Guidelines,” https://www.911memorial.org/visitor-rules-and-regulations (accessed February 28th). From time to time, for instance, commissioning (enlistment) and re-enlistment ceremonies are conducted there.
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On Friday, representatives from the United States Navy participated in a
ceremonial American flag folding and a drill team performance on the
Memorial.65
Through these programs and events, American service members are invited to take part in the memory work played out at the Ground Zero memorial complex. Their memories are, in other words, favored over others and made use of to evoke in the minds of visitors more than just grief for the victims of 9/11.
In particular, those American service members who have fought the Global War on
Terror for the U.S. are featured. The stories about them are often repeated at the Ground Zero memorial complex. Kathleen Santora’s is one of them. The official blog of the National
September 11 Memorial and Museum narrates her story: “enlisted in the US Army nearly one year after her brother, FDNY firefighter Christopher Santora, was killed in the line of duty on
9/11,” Kathleen Santora “wanted to do something in response to the attacks, and began her military service the day after the first anniversary” were written about on.66 Another story includes Pat Tillman. In the National September 11 Museum, an exhibit was curated about him as an American hero who “left his thriving career in the National Football League after 9/11 to serve in the U.S. Army.”67 Through a blog post and the display of his Army Ranger Jacket in the museum, “visitors are encouraged to view” this exhibit.68
65 See Appendix 2. 66 “Personal Stories Connect Military Community to 9/11,” https://www.911memorial.org/blog/personal- stories-connect-military-community-911 (accessed February 28th). 67 “Special Programming: 9/11 Memorial Museum Honors Military Members,” https://www.911memorial.org/blog/special-programming-911-memorial-museum-honors-military- members (accessed February 28th). This exhibit was a part of the museum’s special exhibition “Comeback Season: Sports After 9/11,” which ran through June 27, 2018 to summer 2019. 68 Ibid. The narrative that American citizens who decided to join the military as a response to 9/11 is one of the themes of the National September 11 Museum. For more detail, see Chapter 3.
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What is more, these service members have been juxtaposed with heroic American victims of 9/11 at the Ground Zero memorial complex. Around Veterans Day, for instance, a talk that focuses on “the place where WTC steel was buried to commemorate the first post-9/11 U.S. casualty in the War on Terror, Johnny Mike Spann, a CIA operative and former U.S. Marine” has been held at the National September 11 Museum.69 In this talk, a map that “lists the locations where WTC steel was buried in Afghanistan in late 2001 and 2002 by U.S. Special Forces” is introduced with “military insignia and NYPD, FDNY, and PAPD insignia as a way of linking
[service members’] efforts in Afghanistan to the first responder units who lost so many lives on
9/11.”70 As such, both American service members and heroic American victims of 9/11 are acknowledged to assert “the strong bond between this sacred place and those who chose to defend our nation” by engaging in the war in the Middle East.71
A War Memorial
The discussion about those included “inside” Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan suggests that it is not a place for only the victims of 9/11. As “the strong and truly meaningful connection between the National September 11 Memorial & Museum and the United States military” is yearly reconfirmed during the Veterans Day events, active and retired U.S. military service members are honored and remembered along with those Americans who died at the 9/11 sites.72
69 “Museum Talks Highlight WTC Steel Buried in Afghanistan,” https://www.911memorial.org/blog/museum-talks-highlight-wtc-steel-buried-afghanistan (accessed February 28th). 70 Ibid. 71 “US Veterans Honored Salute Service 5-Day Tribute,” https://www.911memorial.org/blog/us-veterans- honored-salute-service-5-day-tribute (accessed February 28th). The presence of those service members is integrated into the remembrance discourse of 9/11 in the National September 11 Museum as a group of “last responders,” a counterpart to the first responders. This point will be further examined in Chapter 3. 72 Appendix 2.
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In other words, although it is ordinary citizens who were killed by 9/11, the rebuilt WTC now functions as a war memorial that celebrates the nation’s military endeavor.73
In short, according to Benedict Anderson, war memorials exist for nations, or for
“ghostly national imaginings.”74 These national imaginings are, he argues, mediated in particular by the bodies of the Unknown soldiers buried in war memorials; their bodies give substance to imagined-communities/nation-states for which these soldiers fought.75 The Ground Zero memorial complex is an example of Anderson’s theorization on war memorials. As one of them, it contributes to the construction and promotion of favorable U.S. national images.
In this case, however, it is not only dead bodies but also living ones that matter. On the one hand, for instance, the aforementioned unidentified remains stored in the National September
11 Museum paints the U.S. as a nation with moral integrity to provide care even for the unidentified dead. Through those dead bodies, as Jay Aronson points out, the standing of the
U.S. is elevated as opposed to “the terrorists who so callously disregarded the value of life.”76 On
73 The desire to see the site as a war memorial was expressed by high officials early on in the reconstruction process. Even when the victims of 9/11 are commemorated, they are often grieved for as if they were fallen soldiers. Michael Bloomberg, for instance, once said, “139 years ago President Abraham Lincoln looked out at his wounded nation as he stood on a once beautiful field that had become its saddest and largest burial ground. Then it was Gettysburg. Today it is the World Trade Center, where we gather on native soil to share our common grief” [quoted in Jay Aronson Who Owns the Dead?: The Science and Politics of Death at Ground Zero (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2016), 12]. Juxtaposing these two burial grounds, he claimed that not unlike the soldiers who lost their lives for the “liberal” ideal of the North or the Southern Cause during the Civil War, the victims of 9/11 sacrificed themselves for the greater good. 74 Benedict Anderson, Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism (New York: Verso, 2016), 50. 75 Ibid. 76 Jay Aronson, Who Owns the Dead?, 2. The exclusion and inclusion at Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan may be intimately intertwined with dead bodies. It is possible that those unidentified body parts that were brought to the Remains Repository contain the body parts of the terrorists. Therefore, the site is, in actuality, messy, and the logic of exclusion/inclusion cannot be precisely executed or maintained. And yet, this problem is never acknowledged or even raised. Rather, as will be discussed later, the messiness of Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan is solved by resorting to the simple binary of “us” and “them.”
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the other hand, the citizen-bodies of the family members of the American victims of 9/11 who gather together to grieve at Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan for the annual commemoration ceremony allow the U.S. to be imagined as a nation: through the living bodies of all ages, gender, and races, an image of a multifaceted nation united beyond differences is projected to the viewers witnessing the ceremony.
Favorable U.S. national images are also structurally embedded in this war memorial, typified by the primary tower of the rebuilt WTC complex. Called the “Freedom Tower,” it was originally designed by Daniel Libeskind, the master plan architect for the reconstruction of the
WTC site. According to the conceptual plan that he titled Memory Foundations, Libeskind designed it as a 1,776-feet-high spire that would “[rise] above its predecessors, reasserting the pre-eminence of freedom and beauty, restoring the spiritual peak to the city, creating an icon that speaks of our vitality in the face of danger and our optimism in the aftermath of tragedy.”77 This tower with its height signifying the year of the declaration of American Independence was intended as a symbol of the U.S. itself. In this case, however, the objective of commemoration seemed to be deliberately open-ended. It was not only the American victims of 9/11 but also the
U.S. as a nation that were Libeskind’s central focus.78 In particular, he wanted to materially symbolize the national triumph that had been achieved through American independence in the form of the spire.
77 Memory Foundations. 78 In Memory Foundations, while acknowledging those who were lost as national heroes, Libeskind focuses on the national greatness. This conceptual plan begins with his feeling of awe toward the U.S. as a countryman addressing to fellow countryfolks: “I arrived by ship to New York as a teenager, an immigrant, and like millions of others before me, my first sight was the Statue of Liberty and the amazing skyline of Manhattan. I have never forgotten that sight or what it stands for. This is what this project is all about” (Ibid.). Memory Foundations gained popularity in part because of the first-person narrative technique. Positioning himself as one of the immigrants, Libeskind claimed that he was a typical American and empathically asked support from his fellow American citizens who would share his sense of awe toward the U.S.
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While many changes were made to this tower during its construction process, the architectural motif of “national triumph” remains. It is probably the only feature that was not abandoned among all the other features of Libeskind’s plan that were eliminated. For instance, the gardens that were proposed as “a constant affirmation of life” on the roof of Freedom Tower were removed to secure larger office space.79 In the meantime, Libeskind was replaced by the architect David Childs.80 Eventually, even the name was changed. The new primary tower is no longer called the “Freedom Tower” but “One World Trade Center.”81 Simply put, the latter was built as a tower completely different from the original design conceived by Libeskind except for one element: the height is 1,776 feet.
Through the new primary tower, the U.S. as a nation is celebrated at Ground Zero in
Lower Manhattan. The allegorical height of One World Trade Center represents the U.S. as idealized at the time of its independence in 1776. This tower is, in other words, a material embodiment of the U.S. and helps define and reinforce the American self-image as the exceptional country where “all men are created equal” and “are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”82 As
79 Ibid. The changes made to this tower will be identified in detail in Chapter 2. 80 In addition to Childs, several architects were brought in to rebuild the WTC site, and Libeskind was effectively removed from its reconstruction process. His design was significantly undermined over the years, though Libeskind is still credited as the masterplan architect. For instance, the Park of Heroes and the Wedge of Light that he proposed as two large public places where “[e]ach year on September 11th between the hours of 8:46 a.m., when the first airplane hit and 10:28 a.m., when the second tower collapsed, the sun [would] shine without shadow, in perpetual tribute to altruism and courage” were eventually eliminated (Memory Foundations). 81 The primary building of the new WTC complex was first named the Freedom Tower by the then New York Governor George Pataki. The name persisted because of its popularity. In 2009, however, the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey announced that the tower would be officially called by its legal name of One World Trade Center. 82 “Declaration of Independence,” https://www.archives.gov/founding-docs/declaration-transcript (accessed February 28th). It is symptomatic that the Declaration of Independence was chosen and has remained as one of the most important allegorical signs to mark the reconstruction project of the WTC site located in Lower Manhattan, which was once a site of slavery. Thomas Jefferson, the principal author of this document, was deeply implicated in slavery. He was a major slaveholder. It is also historically
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such, the Ground Zero memorial complex came into existence as a war memorial promoting certain ideas about the nation and its values and priorities.
What is important to note here is that, as the elimination of the IFC illustrates, it is no longer everyone’s liberty/freedom that is upheld at this war memorial. The liberty/freedom symbolized at the site is the one for which the three wounded Marines and American service members sacrificed themselves in the Middle East. It can be argued, therefore, that the Ground
Zero memorial complex is a war memorial specifically contextualized by the Global War on
Terror. In fact, while American service members who fought the war for the nation are featured and even juxtaposed with the 9/11 first responders, Muslims have become identified as the enemy-others of the U.S. and targets of harassment and violence, as was seen in the case of the
Cordoba House. The memorial complex, as a war memorial, promotes the idea that a great nation is engaged in a battle between righteous and evil.
Conclusion
As discussed in this chapter, the WTC site was reconstructed through the exclusion of certain others. In particular, since 9/11, Muslims have been demonized as the enemy-others of the U.S. and essentially banned from Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan and the surrounding area. The plan for a “mosque” proposed two blocks away from the WTC site was forced to be
speculated that Jefferson impregnated, at least, one of his slaves, Sally Hemings. Her clan were slaves at Monticello [see, for instance, Annette Gordon-Reed’s The Hemingses of Monticello: An American Family (New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 2009)]. In the sense that Jefferson was a practitioner of human bondage and the father of slaves on whose sacrifice the U.S. was founded, he is truly an American founding father. And yet, it is precisely this kind of “difficult past” that is in effect silenced through the allegorical figure of the new primary tower. While the U.S. is celebrated and its exceptional nature is presented to visitors, the memory of slavery is once again displaced at this site exactly where human bondage was practiced.
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abandoned. In its place, a luxury 43-story condominium building will be erected to fit into the urban geography of New York City.
The exclusion of “other others” has been repeatedly performed at the Ground Zero memorial complex. Bearing witness to the difficult pasts of the U.S. and hence inevitably evoking memories of violent acts inflicted by the U.S., those others have been denied a place inside the 9/11 site’s physical terrain or in the memory being remembered/produced at the site.
The elimination of the IFC was an example of such an exclusion. The plan for this cultural center was terminated by the then-governor Pataki pressured by family members of the victims of 9/11 because the IFC originally proposed including exhibits about slavery and the genocide of Native people in addition to the one about the terrorist attacks in 2001 on American soil. As this case illustrates, the reconstruction of the WTC site has proceeded through a series of exclusions.
Consequently, the WTC site has been reconstructed as a venue where mainstream
American history is materialized. This is most apparent in the case of the history of slavery in
New York City. At the rebuilt WTC site, there is no room for this memory.83 Despite the proximal relationship between Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan and slavery in terms of geography and history, no mnemonic reference to the practice of human bondage to which the development of New York City/U.S. is indebted is ever provided to visitors.
While certain others have been excluded from the Ground Zero memorial complex and its vicinity, other subjects are included. Among those included alongside the victims of 9/11 are
83 Aside from 9/11, the 1993 World Trade Center bombing is also included in the remembrance performed at the Ground Zero memorial complex. The names of the victims of this bombing are engraved on Reflecting Absence. Plotted and carried out by two different terrorist groups, these terrorist attacks are two different incidents. And yet, the former is often acknowledged as a precursor, or even a part of the latter at the Ground Zero memorial complex. It is as if there is no qualitative difference between them— quantitatively, there is difference in terms of the number of victims. The (mis)remembering of the 1993 bombing will be discussed more in detail in Chapter 3.
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American service members. In particular, those who have sacrificed themselves and fought in
Global War on Terror for the U.S. are remembered at the rebuilt WTC complex. The site is, in other words, functioning as a war memorial.
It is, therefore, not too far-fetched to see the correlation between the Ground Zero memorial complex and the Global War on Terror. In fact, some critics have strongly suggested that this site should be reconstructed as a place that would not “bludgeon the free world”/the U.S. in the back when it was fighting against the unfree world/terrorists.84 These critics opposed the
IFC because they believed that the cultural center would undermine the moral high ground of the
U.S. engaging in the Global War on Terror by displaying the exhibits about such difficult pasts as slavery and the genocide of Native Americans. Instead, these critics demanded the new WTC complex that “would seek … to place the (terrorist) attack[s] in the context of the wider war that is being waged.”85 What is needed is not a cultural center that would disrupt the U.S. national image of an exceptional country of freedom, but an institution that would inspire support among visitors for the continuation of the war by “injecting some moral clarity … into the public discourse.”86 As such, the Ground Zero memorial complex has been imagined in relation to the
Global War on Terror, and it is this relationship that will be investigated in the next chapter.
84 “The International Freedom Center: Content and Governance Report” 85 Ibid. 86 Ibid.
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Chapter 2
The Cartography of Vulnerability: Wars and U.S. Geographies
They drew first blood, not me. —John Rambo, First Blood, 1982
But that’s why you built the towers, isn’t it? Weren’t the towers built as fantasies of wealth and power that would one day become fantasies of destruction? You build a thing like that so you can see it come down. The provocation is clear. What other reason would there be to go so high and then to double it, do it twice? It’s a fantasy, so why not do it twice? You are saying, Here it is, bring it down. —Don DeLillo, Falling Man, 20071
Introduction
In the immediate aftermath of the terrorist attacks on September 11, 2001, two projects started in the U.S.: the Global War on Terror and the reconstruction of the ruined WTC site. On the one hand, the then-President George W. Bush declared the war in an address to Congress only days after 9/11. As a response to 9/11, his administration initiated a series of international military campaigns with allied countries against organizations and regimes identified as enemy- others of the U.S. On the other hand, the plan for the new WTC complex began to be nationally discussed in the post-9/11 American society. Eventually, the ruined site was reconstructed into the Ground Zero memorial complex, including a new primary building, a memorial, and a museum.2
1 Don Delillo, Falling Man (New York: Scribner, 2007), 116. 2 The article “Filling the Void; To Rebuild or Not: Architects Respond” appeared in the magazine section of New York Times on September 23rd, 2001, by the prominent architect Richard Meier. Only 12 days after 9/11, Meier’s discussion of the reconstruction of the WTC site in a major, nationally distributed newspaper signaled the symbolic importance of the site and concerns for how it would or should be rebuilt. See Richard Meier, “Filling the Void; To Rebuild or Not: Architects Respond,” New York Times, September 23rd, 2001, https://www.nytimes.com/2001/09/23/magazine/filling-the-void-to-rebuild-or-not-
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This chapter will illustrate the simultaneous development of the Global War on Terror and the reconstruction project by examining them in relation to each other. It is, in a way, understandable that since the former was triggered as a response to the attacks on the WTC, the latter should turn into a site rationalizing the former. I do not, however, entirely agree with this logic. It is perhaps too simplistic. The links between the reconstruction of the WTC site and the ongoing Global War on Terror are complex and part of a historical phenomenon. In order to illustrate this point, this chapter will first attempt to define the American war by historicizing it within the context of U.S. military aggressions dating back to the Cold War, specifically focusing on the American War in Vietnam. By doing so, I will identify the logic behind U.S. warfare and reveal how this logic changed the geographies and landscapes in both Vietnam and
New York City.
In terms of methodology, following the juxtaposition between these two places, I will present a comparative approach throughout this chapter. Following the historicization of the
Global War on Terror in relation to the Cold War, this chapter will look at the reconstruction of the ruined WTC site to the Ground Zero memorial complex by temporally and geographically shifting the sites of investigation. In particular, in order to examine One World Trade Center and
Reflecting Absence as architectural signs, I will put them in conversation with the militarization of the U.S.-Mexico border and the memory work assigned to the USS Arizona Memorial in
Hawai‘i, both of which are not unrelated to 9/11: the former dramatically accelerated after 9/11; and the latter was built to commemorate the American sailors and other military servicemen killed by the attack on Pearl Harbor, the only external attack upon the U.S. prior to 9/11, and
architects-respond.html?mtrref=undefined&gwh=BF8414F1363AED987A546C4D850923A1&gwt=pay (accessed February 28th).
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which people often compare to 9/11.3 Through this comparative analysis ranging from New York
City to the edges of the territory of the U.S, I will argue that a particular kind of reality—a reality that is not unfamiliar in American history—is created and rationalized by the Ground Zero memorial complex, in the time of the Global War on Terror.
The Logic of the Global War on Terror
In President George W. Bush’s address to congress on September 20, 2001, he presented the ideological framework for the Global War on Terror. In his calling for other nations to act with the U.S., he famously divided the world into two sides: “[e]ither you are with us or you are with the terrorists.”4 Based on this binary opposition, Bush made it clear that “we [would] direct every resource at our command—every means of diplomacy, every tool of intelligence, every instrument of law enforcement, every financial influence and every necessary weapon of war— to the disruption and to the defeat of the global terror network.”5 By pitting “them” (the enemy) against “us” (the U.S. and its allies), Bush declared the Global War on Terror not just as “one battle” against al-Qaeda but as a “lengthy campaign” to eliminate “them”: “Our war on terror begins with Al Qaeda, but it does not end there. It will not end until every terrorist group of global reach has been found, stopped and defeated.”6 According to him, “retaliation and isolated
3 For instance, on December 7th, 2001, Bush made this comparison on the USS Enterprise at the Norfolk Naval Station in Virginia. In his remarks on the commemoration of the 60th anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor, he went back and forth between this attack and 9/11, and repeatedly equated them. See “President: We’re Fighting to Win—And Win We Will,” The White House, December 7th, 2001, https://georgewbush-whitehouse.archives.gov/news/releases/2001/12/20011207.html (accessed February 28th). 4 “Address to a Joint Session of Congress and the American People,” The White House, September 20th, 2001, https://georgewbush-whitehouse.archives.gov/news/releases/2001/09/20010920-8.html (accessed February 28th). 5 Ibid. 6 Ibid.
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strikes” only against al-Qaeda were not enough for “us”/the U.S. because the enemy-others of the U.S./“them” were supposedly far larger in numbers and more dangerous/lethal than one specific terrorist group.7 He, therefore, cautioned his American audience and those listening to his address, whether allies or foes, to be ready for a permanent war that the U.S. would wage against its enemy-others.8
In this address, along with establishing the binary opposition between “us” and “them,”
Bush highlighted another rationale for the Global War on Terror: the vulnerability of the U.S. He said, “Our nation has been put on notice: We’re not immune from attack.”9 In this statement, the
U.S. is presented as a country always already in danger of being injured by terrorists who “kill not merely to end lives, but to disrupt and end a way of life.”10 They are, in other words, considered intrinsically antagonistic to the U.S.; they are the evil ones who “stand against us, because we stand in their way.”11 To maintain “our way of life,” Bush continued, terrorists have to be eliminated.12 His argument unfolded, using the following logic: since the U.S. was attacked and is likely to be attacked again by its inherently different and evil enemy-others, the Global
War on Terror must be initiated and continuously fought.
7 Ibid. 8 Various scholars have problematized the permanency of the Global War on Terror by either positively or negatively referring to Carl Schmitt’s political theories. On the one hand, for instance, Chantal Mouffe criticizes the war, based on Schmitt’s denunciation against war fought in the name of humanity. “[S]ince all means [are] justified once the enemy [is] presented as an outlaw of humanity,” she argues, this kind of war can be, by definition, indefinitely and limitlessly escalated (“Carl Schmitt’s Warning on the Dangers of a Unipolar World,” The International Thought of Carl Schmitt, 148). On the other hand, some other scholars see the Global War on Terror as a direct implementation of the Schmittian understanding of the political. In particular, Giorgio Agamben defines the war as what Schmitt calls the “state of exception” in which the U.S. suspends the law as a sovereign by declaring a state of emergency. What is problematic for Agamben is that in the post-9/11 world, the state of exception is imposed on the whole planet as the norm by the U.S. and consequently, the indefinite state of emergency has become the new real (“Der Gewahrsam-Ausnahmezustand als Weltordnung,” Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, April 19, 2003, 33). 9 “Address to a Joint Session of Congress and the American People.” 10 Ibid. 11 Ibid. 12 Ibid.
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This logic was also repeated in the “National Security Strategy” issued by the Bush administration. This document suggests that whenever the “American people and American interests” receive or sense threats, actions “to anticipate and counter” the threat and/or feelings of fear, or to preemptively prevent damages against the nation, are initiated. Those actions are considered “the first duty of the United States Government” and “our inherent right of self- defense.”13 The perceived fear does not need to be empirically proven. When it is felt, military action should be taken, “even if uncertainty remains as to the time and place of the enemy’s attack.”14 On such terms, the Global War on Terror was declared and fought. The war is, in other words, predicated on the U.S. obsession with its vulnerability.
U.S. domestic and international policies regarding the Global War on Terror have been implemented to minimize the vulnerability of the U.S. Bush confirmed this point in his address by emphasizing the necessity to “oversee and coordinate a comprehensive national strategy to safeguard our country against terrorism and respond to any attacks that [might] come” as the rationale for the creation of the Office of Homeland Security.15 Subsequently, in November,
2002, the Department of Homeland Security was formed “to secure the nation from the many threats we face.”16 In addition, the Bush administration signed into law the “Uniting and
Strengthening America by Providing Appropriate Tools Required to Intercept and Obstruct
Terrorism Act” of 2001, also known as the Patriot Act, to strengthen security controls by the
U.S. It was apparent that this act would violate individual civil liberties by suspending
13 “V. Prevent Our Enemies from Threatening Us, Our Allies, and Our Friends with Weapons of Mass Destruction,” The White House, accessed October 10, 2018, https://georgewbush- whitehouse.archives.gov/nsc/nss/2006/print/sectionV.html (accessed February 28th). 14 Ibid. 15 “Address to a Joint Session of Congress and the American People.” 16 “About DHS,” U.S. Department of Homeland Security, accessed October 10, 2018, https://www.dhs.gov/about-dhs (accessed February 28th).
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constitutionally protected rights in the name of the national security.17 And yet, it was enacted for fear that the U.S. would be the target of another terrorist attack. The Patriot Act was, in other words, intended to lessen the vulnerability of the U.S. (perceived or otherwise) by any means necessary.
This sense of fear or vulnerability, was also used to justify the U.S. military invasions of
Afghanistan and Iraq after 9/11. In Bush’s address, the invasion of Afghanistan was rationalized based on the logic that “the only way to defeat terrorism as a threat to [the American] way of life is to stop it, eliminate it and destroy it where it grows.”18 He identified the Taliban regime of
Afghanistan as the threat “sponsoring and sheltering and supplying terrorists,” and called for the
U.S. military force to be ready to take military action against it.19 In fact, in October, 2001, the
U.S. went to war against the Taliban regime.
In the case of Iraq, the logic was repeated. In order to justify the invasion of Iraq, Bush explained that the U.S. would never be safe unless Saddam Hussein was militarily defeated:
“The people of the United States and our friends and allies will not live at the mercy of an outlaw regime that threatens the peace with weapons of mass murder. We will meet that threat now, with our Army, Air Force, Navy, Coast Guard and Marines, so that we do not have to meet it later with armies of fire fighters and police and doctors on the streets of our cities.”20 The Bush administration asserted that weapons of mass destruction (WMDs) were produced under the
17 The Patriot Act was criticized in particular because it extended the authority of law enforcement agencies/officers. This law allowed them to search a home or business without the owner’s or the occupant’s consent or knowledge and to obtain telephone, e-mail, and financial records without a court order. 18 “Address to a Joint Session of Congress and the American People.” 19 Ibid. 20 “President Bush Address the Nation,” The White House, March 19, 2003, https://georgewbush- whitehouse.archives.gov/news/releases/2003/03/20030319-17.html (accessed February 28th).
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instruction of Saddam Hussein and that large stockpiles of WMDs were hidden by him.21
Although Iraq did not harbor or support the terrorists responsible for 9/11, it was still considered a threat to the U.S. Arguing that peaceful measures would not disarm Iraq of WMDs, Bush launched the second Gulf War in 2003, by using the same rhetoric that he used when declaring the Global War on Terror: to minimize the vulnerability of the U.S. In short, he framed the second Gulf War as a part of the Global War on Terror.
What is important to note here is that the Global War on Terror, which was arguably a war to overcome the sense of vulnerability, was framed as a war for “freedom.” The U.S. government claimed over the years that it was fighting against terrorists and repressive regimes antagonistic to “freedom.” It was “freedom” itself that was under attack and thus the U.S. had to stand up to save the world from the enemies of “freedom.”22 U.S. military aggressions have been consistently categorized as operations launched for the protection and perpetuation of “freedom” since 9/11.23 Those carried out in Afghanistan between 2001 to 2014 under the Bush and Obama administrations were designated as the “Operation Enduring Freedom” succeed by the
“Operation Freedom’s Sentinel,” which continues to this day.24 Likewise, the Iraq War is officially referred to as the “Operation Iraqi Freedom.”
21 See “V. Prevent Our Enemies from Threatening Us, Our Allies, and Our Friends with Weapons of Mass Destruction.” 22 In “Address to a Joint Session of Congress and the American People,” for instance, Bush says, “we are a country awakened to danger and called to defend freedom.” According to him, “[f]reedom and fear are at war” and “[t]he advance of human freedom—the great achievement of our time, and the great hope of every time—now depends on us.” 23 The elimination of the IFC is, therefore, much more ironical. While a war was fought for freedom by the U.S., the plan for a cultural center was eliminated precisely because it would complicate what freedom means in American history. 24 “Operation Enduring Freedom” is the official name of the Global War on Terror in Afghanistan. Subsequently, it has also become affiliated with counterterrorism operations in other countries including the Philippines and the Trans Sahara.
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These operations for “freedom” have been justified in part by the belief that the Global
War on Terror is a war to give “freedom” to “unfree” others.25 In fact, one of the goals of the
U.S. government is to liberate oppressed people from repressive regimes. Bush ended his announcement of the invasion of Iraq in the following manner: “My fellow citizens, the dangers to our country and the world will be overcome. We will pass through this time of peril and carry on the work of peace. We will defend our freedom. We will bring freedom to others and we will prevail.”26 Arguably, it is not necessarily the case that the goal of giving freedom to unfree others was considered important from a “humanitarian” perspective. Rather, it was pursued for strategic purposes. The Bush administration proposed to “unfree” oppressed Iraqi citizens “to build a new
Iraq that is prosperous and free” by ending Hussein’s dictatorship.27 This proposition was based
25 This is probably the reason why the Abu Ghraib torture and prisoner abuse became such a huge scandal in 2004. Photographs revealing a series of human rights violations against detainees in the Abu Ghraib prison in Iraq by personnel of the U.S. Army and the Central Intelligence Agency severely undermined the discourse of freedom framing the Global War on Terror and contradicted the U.S. self-image as the savior of the oppressed. 26 “President Bush Address the Nation.” In particular, Muslim women’s bodies have been appropriated as a rationale for the continuation of the U.S. military aggressions in the Middle East. Then-First Lady Laura Bush’s radio address to the nation on November 18th, 2001 exemplifies this appropriation. She said, “Afghan women know, through hard experience, what the rest of the world is discovering: The brutal oppression of women is a central goal of the terrorists. Long before the current war began, the Taliban and its terrorist allies were making the lives of children and women in Afghanistan miserable…Women have been denied access to doctors when they’re sick. Life under the Taliban is so hard and repressive, even small displays of joy are outlawed—children aren’t allowed to fly kites; their mothers face beatings for laughing out loud. Women cannot work outside the home, or even leave their homes by themselves…Because of our recent military gains in much of Afghanistan, women are no longer imprisoned in their homes. They can listen to music and teach their daughters without fear of punishment. Yet the terrorists who helped rule that country now plot and plan in many countries. And they must be stopped. The fight against terrorism is also a fight for the rights and dignity of women” [“Radio Address by Mrs. Bush, The White House, https://georgewbush- whitehouse.archives.gov/news/releases/2001/11/20011117.html (accessed February 28th)]. As is illustrated by Laura Bush’s address, over the years, the U.S. has militarily performed a spectacle of “white men, seeking to save brown women from brown men,” which Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak defines as the imperialist exploitation of feminism (A Critique of Postcolonial Reason: Toward a History of the Vanishing Present, [Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1999], 303). 27 “President Says Saddam Hussein Must Leave Iraq Within 48 Hours,” The White House, March 17, 2003, https://georgewbush-whitehouse.archives.gov/news/releases/2003/03/20030317-7.html (accessed February 28th).
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on the conviction that replacing a repressive regime with another regime sharing the same value of freedom as the U.S. would be beneficial to U.S. national security. A correlation between the
(un)free status of others and the vulnerability of the U.S., in other words, was established. By giving freedom to unfree others, the U.S. would become safer.
The Cold War and the Global War on Terror
The association of “vulnerability” and “freedom” is nothing new in American history. It can be traced back to the Cold War. As Mimi Nguyen argues, the association was a postwar product, and one of the guiding principles of this period.28 Harry Truman already hinted at the link between vulnerability and freedom in his presidential address delivered to Congress in 1947.
Since “the foreign policy and the national security of this country [were] involved” and at stake, he pledged to aid Greece and Turkey, or countries threatened by Soviet expansionism:
At the present moment in world history nearly every nation must choose between
alternative ways of life. The choice is too often not a free one.
One way of life is based upon the will of the majority, and is distinguished by free
institutions, representative government, free elections, guarantees of individual
liberty, freedom of speech and religion, and freedom from political oppression.
The second way of life is based upon the will of a minority forcibly imposed upon
the majority. It relies upon terror and oppression, a controlled press and radio,
fixed elections and the suppression of personal freedoms.
28 Mimi Nguyen, Gift of Freedom: War, Debt, and Other Refugee Passages (Durham: Duke University Press, 2010), 36.
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I believe that it must be the policy of the United States to support free peoples
who are resisting attempted subjugation by armed minorities or by outside
pressures.29
Truman redefined the Cold War binary between “democracy” and “communism” as an opposition between two “ways of life” and condemned the communist side, which he believed was antithetical to a free way of life, or the American way of life. While acknowledging that
Cold War politics made it difficult or even impossible for one to freely choose between the two ways of life, he asserted that the U.S. as the leader of the “free” world was obliged to liberate people who were deprived of “freedom” from totalitarian communist regimes. This was also necessary because those regimes were a threat to national security: “totalitarian (communist) regimes…, by direct or indirect aggression, undermine the foundations of the international peace and hence the security of the United States.”30 Avowing the vulnerability of the U.S., Truman proposed to disseminate “freedom” to distant “unfree” others by monitoring their undemocratic regimes.31 As one of “the freedom-loving peoples of the world,” he “determined that their own self-interest and security were best served by distant others’ having the benefit of freedom.”32
29 Truman’s speech to Congress, “Address of the President of the United States Delivered Before a Joint Session of the Senate and the House of Representatives, Recommending Assistance to Greece and Turkey,” Harry S. Truman Presidential Library and Museum,, March 12, 1947, https://www.trumanlibrary.org/whistlestop/study_collections/doctrine/large/documents/index.php?docum entdate=1947-03-12&documentid=5-9&pagenumber=1 (accessed February 28th). 30 Ibid. 31 In his canonical work Ideology and U.S. Foreign Policy, Michael Hunt argues that “an active quest for national greatness closely coupled to the promotion of liberty” is the key to grasp the formation of the U.S. foreign policy. I would suggest that this coupling should be triangulated by the sense of vulnerability haunting the U.S. For more discussion about the importance of this sense of fear for the U.S. both in the Cold War and the Global War on Terror, see Joseph Masco, The Theater of Operations: National Security Affect from the Cold War to the War on Terror (Durham: Duke University Press, 2014). 32 Gift of Freedom, 36. In Imperial Affects: Sensational Melodrama and the Attractions of American Cinema, Jonna Eagle claims that imperialist sentiment in the U.S. has long been powered by the twin engines of vulnerability and violence, generating cultural, melodramatic fantasies of a national subject at once victimized and invincible. Truman was a protagonist in one of those fantasies. Being haunted by the
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In such a manner, the Cold War was conceived as a “liberal” project to safeguard U.S. national security. The irony of this project was that “freedom” was limited to an American way of life and the U.S. imposed its views upon others and “allies” as a liberal empire. Consequently, the world was being remapped as “Americans saw fit.”33 More specifically, the
“containment/integration” model explained by Christina Klein, became the basis for U.S. Cold
War logistics.34 On the one hand, those who failed to conform to the American way of life were to be contained within the Communist Bloc as enemy-others of the U.S. On the other hand,
“allies” would be integrated into the free world and encouraged to pursue the ideal of “freedom.”
The U.S. policy of containment was politically formulated to economically aid allies but also to militarily combat enemy-others, or communists in this instance. In the early stages of the
American War in Vietnam, for instance, through the Strategic Hamlet Program, the U.S. government attempted to spatially delineate and extend the Western Bloc in South Vietnam by physically isolating the rural population from contact with the National Liberation Front, more commonly known as the Việt Cộng. In 1962, in the policy document entitled “A Strategic
Concept for South Vietnam,” Roger Hilsman, the then director of the State Department’s Bureau of Intelligence and Research, proposed to create new communities of heavily fortified hamlets in the most populated rural areas of South Vietnam. Each hamlet, according to him, was to be guarded by a self-defense group of 75 to 100 armed men who were responsible for “enforcing
sense of vulnerability, he believed that the U.S. had to militarily prevail, or was more than capable of doing so. 33 This phrase appeared in Henry Luce’s essay published in 1941: the U.S. must “accept wholeheartedly our duty and our opportunity as the most powerful and vital nation in the world and in consequence to exert upon the world the full impact of our influence, for such purpose as we see fit and by such means as we see fit” (“The American Century,” Life February, 17, 1941 [61-65], 63). His account exemplified the emergence of the sentiment of the U.S. as a liberal empire at that time. 34 Klein, Cold War Orientalism: Asia in the Middlebrow Imagination, 1945-1961 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2003), 32.
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curfews, checking identity cards, and ferreting out hard-core Communists.”35 Endorsed by John
F. Kennedy, this program was implemented to strengthen the defense line of the free world against enemy-others by resettling peasants behind “a ditch and a fence of barbed wire.”36
Consequently, areas outside those communities were designated as free fire zones where soldiers were authorized to shoot anyone “unidentified.”
Along with the implementation—and the eventual failure—of the Strategic Hamlet
Program, those free fire zones continued to expand. The problem was that the distinction between the Viet Congs antagonistic to the U.S. and the Southern Vietnamese remained indistinguishable to American eyes. Later, in the American War in Vietnam, Vietnamese civilians whose hearts and minds were to be won with the promise of a free world became the target of mass murders in South Vietnam. In the late 1960s, for instance, the order to “kill anything that moves” was passed down from the headquarters of the U.S. military to soldiers fighting on the ground. The Pentagon’s demand for quantifiable corpses, as American investigative journalist Nick Turse argues, incentivized American soldiers to kill Vietnamese people including noncombatants.37 Because of this directive, many soldiers became obsessed with producing casualties that they could claim as enemy kills. In addition, while mass murders were committed by individual soldiers, policies such as the indiscriminate use of artillery and air
35 Roger Hilsman, “A Strategic Concept for South Vietnam,” Roger Hilsman Personal Papers, Countries Files, 1961-1964. Vietnam: February 2nd, 1962. RHPP-003-006. John F. Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum, https://www.jfklibrary.org/Asset-Viewer/Archives/RHPP-003-006.aspx (accessed February 28th). 36 Ibid. Kennedy himself saw the world divided between us and them over freedom in his inaugural address on January 20th, 1961: “Let every nation know, whether it wishes us well or ill, that we shall pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe, in order to assure the survival and the success of liberty.” See “Inaugural Address,” John F. Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum, https://www.jfklibrary.org/learn/about-jfk/historic-speeches/inaugural-address (accessed February 28th). 37 Nick Turse, Kill Anything That Moves: the Real American War in Vietnam (New York: Picador, 2013), 190.
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power to remove and disrupt the population of Vietnam were implemented. The American War in Vietnam, which was supposedly fought to keep (at least South) Vietnamese civilians free from the repressive communist regime of North Vietnam led to an overwhelming number of deaths and casualties among the Vietnamese.
Similar contradictions have been repeated in the Global War on Terror.38 In the mainstream discourse, the war—although supposedly launched to safeguard U.S. national security—was continuously promoted and justified as a war to give freedom to unfree others. It is, however, those unfree others who have paid the price for American armed interventions. In
Afghanistan, many civilians were maimed and killed by U.S. bombing campaigns.39 According to Neta C. Crawford, a professor of Political Science at Boston University and Co-Director of the
Costs of War project, “[o]ver the past nearly 15 years, approximately 111,000 people have been killed” and “[o]f these, more than 31,000 of the dead are Afghan civilians.”40
38 This is not to say that the Cold War was not different from the Global War on Terror. There is a crucial difference between them in terms of geography. On the one hand, in the former, enemy-others were supposedly contained in the geographically circumscribed Communist Bloc. In the latter, threats of enemy-others are global and not constrained by geography. In fact, it was the national centers of economy, politics, and military inside the U.S. that were targeted and attacked on September 11th, 2001. In terms of the “liberation” of unfree others, however, some striking similarities can be found between the Cold War, in particular the American War in Vietnam, and the Global War on Terror. 39 In order to condemn civilian casualties, Afghan people who are in reality far from being saved by the U.S. have organized a series of protests against the U.S. government. In addition, then-Afghan President Hamid Karzai repeatedly pleaded with the American government to avoid killing Afghan civilians in military operations. In 2008, he sent a list of demands about the conduct of American troops, a part of which “was that they shouldn’t…bombard our villages [quoted in “Afghan Leader Sends Demands to US on Troop Conduct,” http://www.afghanemb-canada.net/public-affairs-afghanistan-embassy-canada- ottawa/daily-news-bulletin-afghanistan-embassy-canada- ottawa/2008/news_articles/december/12182008.html (accessed February 28th)]. Despite these efforts, the U.S.-led airstrikes did not stop but led to a great number of civilian deaths in Afghanistan. 40 Neta C. Crawford, “Update on the Human Costs of War for Afghanistan and Pakistan 2001 to mid- 2016,” Watson Institute, http://watson.brown.edu/costsofwar/files/cow/imce/papers/2016/War%20in%20Afghanistan%20and%20 Pakistan%20UPDATE_FINAL_corrected%20date.pdf (accessed February 28th).
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In Iraq, the Global War on Terror devastated the everyday lives of ordinary citizens by tearing apart the infrastructure of their society. In the blog Baghdad Burning, a 25-year-old Iraqi woman calling herself Riverbend offers eyewitness accounts of the dire situation that she and other fellow citizens face in Baghdad. After the invasion of Iraq in 2003, according to Riverbend,
“the luxuries—electricity, clean water from faucets, walkable streets, safe schools” could not be taken for granted there.41 “[I]t’s just not safe” to live in Baghdad.42 Arguably, those “unfree” others who were already vulnerable under repressive regimes became even more vulnerable by the U.S. military operations initiated and carried out for “freedom.”
And yet, just as the American War in Vietnam was justified by the U.S. government in the past, the Global War on Terror has been represented as a “just” and “justifiable” war in mainstream discourse. This is the logical outcome of a history of U.S. foreign policy where, as discussed above, the U.S. subject always assumed the status of being the “vulnerable” party. As
Judith Butler argues, “[i]f a particular subject considers her- or himself to be by definition injured or indeed persecuted, then whatever acts of violence such a subject commits cannot register as ‘doing injury,’ since the subject who does them is, by definition, precluded from anything but suffering injury.”43 In other words, “the production of the subject on the basis of its injured status then produces a permanent ground for legitimating (and disavowing) its own violent actions.”44 In fact, the Global War on Terror has been defined as an act of self-defense by the U.S. government since 9/11.45 After the terrorist attacks, the U.S. once again appeared as a
41 Riverbend, Baghdad Burning, https://riverbendblog.blogspot.com/ (accessed February 28th). 42 Ibid. 43 Judith Butler, Frames of War: When Is Life Grievable (New York: Verso, 2009), 179. 44 Ibid. 45 This is the case not only with the Bush administration but with the Obama administration. In a speech delivered in May 2013, Obama used the term “global War on Terror” in quotation marks, saying, “Beyond Afghanistan, we must define our effort not as a boundless “global War on Terror,” but rather as a series of persistent, targeted efforts to dismantle specific networks of violent extremists that threaten
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vulnerable subject who was injured in the past and could be always already injurable in the present and future. Because of this recurring sense of vulnerability, for the U.S., war is continuously justifiable. To avow one’s vulnerability, as Butler argues, “does not in any way guarantee a politics of non-violence.”46 Rather, in the history of U.S. foreign policy, the sense of vulnerability is what has justified American armed interventions in the name of freedom.47
A Cartography of Vulnerability
The realization that the U.S. is prone to feeling vulnerable helps us understand why it continuously justifies violent military actions against others. It also uses the same logic to initiate a process of making particular places “safe.” As discussed above, the creation of fortified hamlets in the rural area of South Vietnam was a result of the fear that the free world would be invaded by the Communist Bloc. In other words, a “cartography of vulnerability” was at work as the U.S. engaged in the Cold War. This cartography, or the practice of mapping sections of the world as unsafe and vulnerable, I argue, has also changed the American landscape in the case of the Global War on Terror. In order to illustrate this point, this chapter takes a detour here and focuses on the U.S.-Mexico border in the next section of my investigation. This detour to the
America” [“Remarks by the President at the National Defense University,” https://obamawhitehouse.archives.gov/the-press-office/2013/05/23/remarks-president-national-defense- university (accessed February 28th)]. His administration attempted to limit this war and dropped the term from its National Security Strategy. Nevertheless, basic objectives of the Global War on Terror stipulated by the Bush administration remained in place. In the same speech, Obama even reiterated the vulnerable status of the U.S. subject: “We are at war with an organization that right now would kill as many Americans as they could if we did not stop them first. So this is a just war—a war waged proportionally, in last resort, and in self-defense” (Ibid.). 46 Ibid., 178. 47 This may well go back to the American Revolution in the 18th century. The U.S. has always claimed that it is defending itself, including when the U.S. is allegedly defending freedom abroad. In the case of the American Revolution, the U.S. claimed its vulnerability to another power—Britain—and the right to defend itself. In this sense, the notion of self-defense has been the basis for the existence of the U.S.
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geographic edge of the U.S. will better clarify the place-making process of a “cartography of vulnerability” within the context of 9/11.
The Southern Border
The U.S.-Mexico border has recently received much attention. It was one of the major
“troubled areas” identified by Donald Trump in his presidential campaign in 2015 and 2016.
Calling Mexicans criminals and rapists, he argued for the construction of “an impenetrable, physical, tall, powerful, beautiful, southern border wall” along the Mexican border to keep the
U.S. safe.48 Elected as president of the U.S. in 2016, Trump began plans to build a great wall, commonly known as the “Trump wall” which revealed his racial animosity toward Mexicans and other “brown” people from Central and South America. For the construction of the wall, he issued executive orders, introduced a law, shut down the federal government, and declared a national emergency.
Disturbing as Trump’s racist politics are, he is not alone in demanding a wall. While the
U.S.-Mexico border wall has been associated with Trump’s presidency, it was a national project that had already been in place before 9/11.49 Despite the fact that not a single terrorist responsible for the coordinated attacks against America by the hijacked passenger airliners on the morning of September 11, 2001 crossed the nation’s southern border, the construction of the border barrier was continually rationalized as an anti-terrorism strategy. Representative David
Dreier of California explained: “I hate the idea of our having to put up a fence. The fact of the matter is we have no choice. We have no choice because this week, as we marked the fifth
48 From Trump’s rally as the Republican presidential nominee in Phoenix, Arizona, on August 31, http://www.cnn.com/TRANSCRIPTS/1609/01/cnr.05.html (accessed February 28th). 49 The fortification of the country’s southern border was already initiated in the late 1980s and the 1990s as part of the so-called war on drugs. However, it gained momentum after the U.S. was attacked on its own territory in 2001.
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anniversary of Sept. 11th, we are in the midst of a global war on terror. We face the threat of someone who would like to do us in coming across our border.’’50 He redirected the sense of vulnerability generated by 9/11 from the east coast to the U.S.-Mexico border. In so doing,
Dreier justified the policy to put up a fence by implying that, without it, another 9/11 would likely happen. This policy was legislated as the Secure Fence Act of 2006 during the Bush administration with bipartisan support in Congress. In the House of Representatives, the vote was 283 to 138, and, in the Senate, it was 80 to 19, with then-Senators Barack Obama and
Hillary Clinton voting yes. After the passage of this act, during both the Bush and Obama presidencies, around one third of the country’s southern border was fenced.51 Following this policy, Trump promised to build a wall in the remaining sections.
Calling the border barrier along the Mexican border just a “fence” is an understatement.
As Bush argues, it has been militarized “[b]y making wise use of physical barriers and deploying
21st century technology.”52 According to Reece Jones, a change has been brought to the border in the aftermath of 9/11 in terms of “the construction of substantial border infrastructure that expanded the enforcement area.”53 It “includes nine Predator drones…that patrol the
Southwestern border, high-tech surveillance systems known as ‘smart borders’ that use sensors and cameras to monitor for movement at the border, and ground-penetrating radar designed to detect subterranean tunnels.”54 At the U.S.-Mexico border, “[m]ilitary power, hardware, organization, operations, and technology” have been used “as…primary problem solving
50 U.S. Congressional Record 2006, H6583, https://www.congress.gov/congressional- record/2006/09/14/house-section/article/H6581-1? (accessed February 28th). 51 See Reece Jones, Border Barriers: Security and the War on Terror in the United States, India, and Israel (New York: Zed Books, 2012), 1. 52 “President Bush Signs Secure Fence Act,” https://georgewbush- whitehouse.archives.gov/news/releases/2006/10/20061026.html (accessed February 28th). 53 Reece Jones, Violent Borders: Refugees and the Right to Move (New York: Verso, 2016), 36. 54 Ibid., 36-7.
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tools.”55 By definition, the territorial border exists on domestic territory and thus it is governed not by the military but by police officers. The clear limits on the internal use of the military is stipulated by the Posse Comitatus Act, which was passed after the Civil War: “It shall not be lawful to employ any part of the Army of the United States, as a posse comitatus, or otherwise, for the purpose of executing the laws, except in such employment of said force may be expressly authorized by the Constitution or by act of Congress.56” And yet, the distinction between the military and the police is blurred precisely because Congress has enacted a number of exemptions over the years.57 Hence, the country’s southern border is a place where the U.S. as a nation-state executes a policing role by exercising military power.58
The amalgamation of the military and the police has made the U.S-Mexico border deadlier for non-Americans who intend to cross it or even get close to it. Fifteen-year-old Sergio
Hernandez Guereca, for instance, was shot down by the Border Patrol despite the fact that he was on the Mexican side, and at least 20 to 30 meters away from the “fence” between Juárez, Mexico and El Paso, Texas. For whatever reason, Sergio and his three teenage friends reached the
“fence” at one point and were forced to retreat when Jesus Mesa Jr., a Border Patrol agent, rushed in with his gun drawn. Sergio and two other boys were able to run away to the Mexican
55 Ibid. 56 Posse Comitatus Act, 1878, 18 U.S.C. § 1385, 20 Stat. 152. 57 This blurring has also occurred in the Global War on Terror fought in the Middle East, but in the other way around: the U.S. military force has engaged in policing activities there. Those activities carried out by American soldiers “[include] checking documents, raiding houses, and searching for criminals and insurgents in a manner similar to the way SWAT teams conduct drug raids” (Violent Border, 40). 58 It is often said that globalization is undermining the authority of the nation-state because it is making the world borderless. Reasoning in this way, Wendy Brown argues that “[c]ounterintuitively, perhaps, it is the weakening of the state sovereignty, and more precisely, the detachment of sovereignty from the nation-state that is generating much of the frenzy of nation-state wall building today” (Walled States, Waning Sovereignty, 24). For her, the construction of border barriers including the one along the U.S.- Mexico border is a losing attempt for the dissolving nation-state to reassert its power. Contrary to Brown’s argument, in the case of the U.S., its authority is anything but declining. At the country’s southern border, the governing authority of the U.S. is being performed and reified by the deployment of its military/police power.
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side. The fourth boy was detained. In response, the others threw rocks at Agent Mesa, who fired back three times across the border into Mexico. Sergio was killed. Agent Mesa exercised deadly force beyond the border, which was by definition the territory of the military, even though he was a domestic law enforcement officer. The fact that Sergio’s life was in the hands of Agent
Mesa indicates that around the militarized barrier, the lives of those on the Mexican side have become increasingly vulnerable and at risk.
The presence of the militarized border barrier has also led to an increase in the number of deaths among migrants crossing the U.S.-Mexico border to the U.S. For instance, according to the International Organization for Migration, a related organization to the United Nations, “[t]he number of migrants who died crossing the United States-Mexico border in 2017 remained high, despite a forty-four per cent decrease in border apprehensions reported by the US Border Patrol between 2016 and 2017.”59 To avoid parts of the border where high-tech surveillance systems are deployed by heavily armed Border Patrol agents, migrants often choose to take “the arduous journey through the deserts of Arizona, which requires hiking for fifty or more kilometers through arid and desolate terrain.”60 This kind of rerouting is strategically intended by the U.S. government, as described in the first National Border Patrol Strategy: “The prediction is that with traditional entry and smuggling routes disrupted, illegal traffic will be deterred, or forced over more hostile terrain, less suited for crossing and more suited for enforcement.”61 The deaths of migrants are, therefore, attributable not just to direct violence by the Border Patrol, but also to
59 “Migrant Deaths Remain High despite Sharp Fall in US-Mexico Border Crossings in 2017,” https://www.iom.int/news/migrant-deaths-remain-high-despite-sharp-fall-us-mexico-border-crossings- 2017 (accessed February 28th). 60 Jones, Violent Borders, 45. 61 U.S. Customs and Border Protection, National Border Patrol Strategy (Washington, DC: U.S. Border Patrol), 2005.
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the structural violence created by the U.S. border policy which ensures more deaths among migrants when they are crossing borderlands far from the main entry points.
To sum up, this kind of border policy has become the norm since September 11, 2001. By responding to the fear of further terrorist attacks, the Bush administration started to construct and militarize the U.S.-Mexico border. From the beginning, the militarized border barrier was intended for migrants coming to the U.S. from Mexico, as no terrorists responsible for 9/11 crossed the U.S.-Mexico border.62 Taken from the original context of 9/11, the heightened sense of vulnerability justified the construction of the militarized border barrier. While the U.S. fought the Global War on Terror in the Middle East, this sense of fear changed the landscape of the country’s southern edge.
Feeling Vulnerable
The sense of vulnerability provoked by the terrorist attacks on September 11th, 2001, not only allowed the U.S. military to intervene in the Middle East but also to remap the U.S.-Mexico border. The national trauma of 9/11 is, in other words, affecting widely separated geographic places. Among them, Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan, the epicenter of 9/11, is included. Not unlike the militarized border barrier where a “cartography of vulnerability” is practiced, the rebuilt WTC site is also a product of the sense of vulnerability. In order to clarify this point, let us turn to the reconstruction process of the site with a focus on the primary tower One World
Trade Center and the National September 11 Memorial Reflecting Absence, two architectural structures that spatially define the Ground Zero memorial complex.
62 Border barriers are “designed to detect and prevent the movement of the world’s poor,” not necessarily “terrorists” (Violent Borders, 46). By severely restricting the mobility of the poor, militarized border barriers function as an apparatus by which rich countries secure cheap labor on the “other side.” Militarized border barriers are one of the factors keeping and expanding the gap between the wealthy and the poor.
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If One World Trade Center were built in accordance with the original design by Daniel
Libeskind, the master plan architect for the overall reconstruction project at Ground Zero in
Lower Manhattan, it would be an entirely different building and spatial complex. As an architect known for integrating allegorical elements into his works, Libeskind embedded symbolic meanings in his proposal for the primary building of the new WTC complex, the Freedom
Tower. He designed it to stand 1,776 feet high. The tower would rise “above its predecessors, reasserting the preeminence of freedom and beauty, restoring the spiritual peak to the city, creating an icon that speaks of our vitality in the face of our danger and optimism in the aftermath of tragedy.”63 The Freedom Tower’s specific height, as pointed out in the previous chapter, was intended to signify the year of the Declaration of Independence and the democratic ideals expressed in the founding document. The tower was also designed as an asymmetric spiraling structure resembling the Statue of Liberty. By designing this spire with its symbolically meaningful height for the tallest building in the world at that time, Libeskind attempted to architecturally represent the greatness of the U.S.
Although the Freedom Tower was well-received by New Yorkers to the extent that
Libeskind called himself the “people’s architect,” many of his original concepts were eventually eliminated from the tower’s final design.64 This was mainly because of disagreements between
Libeskind and Larry Silverstein, the real estate mogul who owned the lease to the WTC complex. To secure more office space and assure more rent, he directed his personal architect
David Childs to make revisions to Libeskind’s design, which originally prioritized symbolic elements over economic benefits.65 Silverstein’s pursuit of economic gains—namely, his “pursuit
63 Memory Foundations. 64 Greenspan, Battle for Ground Zero, 120. 65 Libeskind, for instance, opposed a request to place the primary building of the new WTC complex in a more rentable location. Instead, he proposed to integrate it in a way to line up the tower with the Statue of
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of happiness” as a capitalist—took precedence over any interest in addressing the national trauma of 9/11. Consequently, except for the height of 1,776 feet, Libeskind’s architectural allegories were eliminated. In One World Trade Center, therefore, there is almost no trace of the original vision of Freedom Tower, including its name.66
It was, however, not just Silverstein’s capitalistic motives that changed the course of the construction of the tower. The sense of vulnerability also affected its design. For instance, out of the fear that the rebuilt tower would be the target of another terrorist attack in the future, the New
York City Police Department demanded that the tower be adequately fortified.67 As a result, in part because of security concerns, the asymmetry of the spiraling structure of Libeskind’s
Freedom Tower was “straightened out” into a symmetrical form. In addition, in order to respond to the NYPD’s demand, a 187-foot concrete base was added to the design. Because of this addition, One World Trade Center, in particular its base structure, eventually ended up resembling a “bunker.” The tower is now a kind of fortress equipped with a number of security technologies. The architectural firm Skidmore, Owings & Merrill LLP, which took over
Libeskind’s project, made sure that the NYPD’s demands were met. In the event of a major
Liberty across the ocean. From the beginnings, Freedom Tower was known for the significantly limited office space. It would only go up to the middle of the tower. The rest were allocated for greenery gardens called Vertical World Gardens [see “Slide 21,” http://www.renewnyc.com/plan_des_dev/wtc_site/new_design_plans/firm_d/slides/slide21.asp (accessed February 28th)] because, Libeskind argued, they were “a constant affirmation of life” (Memory Foundations). 66 Libeskind also designed two plazas, which were named “Park of Heroes” and “Wedge of Light” respectively. These plazas were deliberately designed and placed so that no surrounding building would cast a shadow on them from 8:46 a.m. (the time the first plane had hit) to 10:28 a.m. (the time the second tower had fallen) on every September 11th. They were also eliminated from One World Trade Center. 67 See Deborah Sontag, “The Hole in the City’s Heart,” The New York Times, September 11th, 2006, https://www.nytimes.com/2006/09/11/nyregion/nyregionspecial3/11groundzero.html (accessed February 28th) and Patrick D. Healy and William K. Rashbaum, “Security Concerns Force a Review of Plans for Ground Zero,” The New York Times, May 1st, 2005, https://www.nytimes.com/2005/05/01/nyregion/security-concerns-force-a-review-of-plans-for-ground- zero.html (accessed February 28th).
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terrorist attack, its “life-safety systems—stairs, communications, risers, sprinklers, elevators— are encased in a core wall that is three feet thick in most places.”68 It was also decided that
“biological and chemical filters in the air supply system” as well as “interconnected redundant exits” should be installed.69 In order to further satisfy NYPD’s demands, the tower’s “setback distance from West Street…has been increased from 25 feet to an average of 90 feet.”70 As such, the fear of another attack against the U.S.significantly changed the design of the primary building of the new WTC complex.
Via Pearl Harbor
Not only One World Trade Center but also Reflecting Absence, the National September
11 Memorial, the centerpiece of Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan, was affected by the sense of vulnerability. The memorial was designed by an Israeli-American architect Michael Arad, and selected from 5,201 proposals submitted to the World Trade Center Site Memorial Competition held by the Lower Manhattan Development Corporation in 2003. Asad’s original design had an underground component, and Arad had to modify it in part for security purposes. “[S]ecurity people” estimated that “[t]he memorial probably is as big a target as the [towers] were” and that the underground component would pose a security liability by making the memorial even more vulnerable to terrorist attacks.71 Because of this security concern, the underground component
68 “Freedom Tower Fact Sheet,” http://renewnyc.com/content/pdfs/freedom_tower_fact_sheet.pdf (accessed February 28th). 69 Ibid. 70 Ibid. 71 “Patt Morrison Asks: Memorial Man Peter Walker,” The Los Angels Times, September 10th, 2011, http://articles.latimes.com/2011/sep/10/opinion/la-oe-morrison-peter-walker-20110910 (accessed February 28th).
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was eventually eliminated.72 This suggests that the fear that the U.S. would be attacked again, more or less, dictated the design and construction of Reflecting Absence, or the overall reconstruction process of the WTC site.
This is, however, not the whole story of the cartography of vulnerability. Places produced through this cartography create certain realities. In fact, around fortified hamlets in South
Vietnam, the order to “kill anything that moves” was implemented and in the militarized border area between Juárez, Mexico and El Paso, Texas, Sergio was killed. Highly “secured” as a result of the sense of vulnerability, these areas nevertheless induced violence. Questions then arise: what about the Ground Zero memorial complex? How were important components of its plan motivated and shaped by this sense of fear? And perhaps, most significantly for this project, what kind of reality did and does the memorial complex create?
These questions will be addressed through another detour, but this time to Hawai‘i. This is because the archipelago in the Pacific is the only other place where the U.S. was attacked on its “territory” by a foreign entity, and the attack on Pearl Harbor has often emerged as a parallel reference point for Americans. Furthermore, the USS Arizona Memorial, is structurally similar to
Reflecting Absence in an important way. The USS Arizona Memorial was built over the sunken
72 The selection jury of the competition also demanded the elimination for a more “practical” reason. They believed that the vertical architectural structure would impede visitors’ accessibility. According to the selection jury, the proposed National 9/11 Memorial should “fit into the surrounding streets and sidewalks and into the larger context of Lower Manhattan” (David W. Dunlap and Glenn Collins, “How Greening of Design Swayed Memorial Jury,” The New York Times, January 8th, 2004, https://www.nytimes.com/2004/01/08/nyregion/how-greening-of-design-swayed-memorial-jury.html). In order to achieve this end, Arad was made to work with an American landscape architect Peter Walker. As a result, Reflecting Absence was redesigned. Its underground component was elevated to street level so that pedestrians could freely not only walk into the memorial area of the Ground Zero memorial complex but also look down on the memorial and walk out of this site. This redesign was intended to “[encourage] the use of this space by New Yorkers on a daily basis” (“About the Memorial,” https://www.911memorial.org/design-competition). This, however, does not mean that the WTC site, or, by extension, Lower Manhattan, was, in reality, reconstructed as an open place of remembrance. On the contrary, while the physical site welcomes pedestrian traffic, there is a limit on who can be remembered within and around the Ground Zero memorial complex, as discussed in Chapter 1.
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remains of the USS Arizona battleship to commemorate the sailors killed on December 7, 1941.
On that day, the Imperial Japanese Navy and its aircrafts bombed the U.S. naval base at Pearl
Harbor on the island of O‘ahu, causing enormous damage. A detour to Hawai‘i will illustrate the ways in which the memorial at Pearl Harbor functions similarly to the one at Ground Zero in
Lower Manhattan.
The USS Arizona Memorial consists of two components separated by water. One of them is the 184-foot-long memorial structure floating above the sea surface. All the names of the deceased American soldiers are alphabetically engraved on one of the walls inside this memorial structure. The other component is the sunken battleship of the USS Arizona, which lies underneath the memorial structure. Underwater, the sunken battleship is decaying and spilling out oil. Visitors take a 145 passenger U.S. Navy boat to the memorial structure and, from there, can see the ruined state of the USS Arizona from above.73 The sunken battleship is literally a physical and symbolic “trace” of the attack against the U.S. The USS Arizona Memorial is thus structured to allow visitors to view the damage that the U.S. received on December 7th, 1941.
Art historian Rosalind Krauss explain that architectural structures that integrate a “trace” can be filled with “an extraordinary sense of time-past.”74 According to her, a trace “produced by a physical cause” is “[a vestige] of that cause which is itself no longer present.”75 When a trace is architecturally integrated into a building, a trace inevitably brings back the memory of the causal
73 The USS Arizona Memorial constitutes a part of the Pearl Harbor Visitor Center. At the center, a route is set for visitors to take. In order to see the sunken USS Arizona in person, visitors are required to join the free tour including a film “on the history of the politics, the people, and the attack on Oahu” [“USS Arizona Memorial,” http://www.pearlharborhistoricsites.org/pearl-harbor/arizona-memorial (accessed February 28th)]. After viewing the film, they board a boat to the memorial. While waiting for the timed entry tour to begin, visitors are encouraged to explore the grounds of the Visitor Center and, in particular, to walk through the museum area. As for the exhibition of the museum, see footnote 79 in this chapter. 74 Rosalind Krauss, The Originality of the Avant-garde and Other Modernist Myths (Cambridge: MIT Press, 1986), 217. 75 Ibid.
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events that constituted it “into the consciousness of the viewer.”76 Following Krauss, the USS
Arizona is a trace and thus, the USS Arizona Memorial continually evokes the moment of
December 7th, 1941, and its immediate aftermath for visitors, as a memorial integrating the sunken battleship/a trace of the attack against the U.S. The memorial is, in other words, possessed by the past event that produced the sunken ship as a trace, only to memorialize the tragic events associated with the Attack on the Pearl Harbor.
The current significance of the USS Arizona Memorial or its singular focus on one violent event in its past and not others becomes apparent when the site is put in conversation with the history of Hawai‘i. Pearl Harbor was originally called Ke Awalao o‘ Pu‘uloa, meaning
“the many waters of the long hill,” by Native Hawaiians. It was “the breadbasket of O‘ahu, a fertile estuary supporting as many as 36 fishponds,” which, according to Native Hawaiian activist Terri Keko‘olani, “made the land momona (fat) and brought a time of peace to O‘ahu.”77
In order to exclusively use Pu‘uloa/Pearl Harbor to expand the U.S. naval power across the
Pacific, the U.S. took this breadbasket away from the Kingdom of Hawai‘i with the threat of violence in the late nineteenth century and subsequently established a base on the site.78 Since then, the U.S. occupation of Pearl Harbor and the Hawaiian archipelago has continued into the
76 Ibid. 77 Tina Grandinetti, “In the Shadow of the Beast,” Flux, April 3rd, 2014, http://fluxhawaii.com/in-the- shadow-of-the-beast/. This account of Pu‘uloa/Pearl Harbor is based on her experience of joining the decolonizing O‘ahu tour called “DeTour” organized by local activists in Hawai‘i. 78 With the signing of the Reciprocity Treaty of 1875, the U.S. gained lands in the Pu‘uloa/Pearl Harbor area. In 1887, a league of anti-monarchists mainly consisting of white men of North American origin, joined by an armed militia, forced King David Kalākaua to sign what he called “The Bayonet Constitution” that was to renew the Reciprocity Treaty with the Pearl Harbor clause. Subsequently, the Kingdom of Hawai‘i itself was illegally overthrown. In 1893, with the help of the U.S. military force, American businessmen carried out a coup d’état. They prevailed upon the American minister John L. Stevens to call in the well-armed U.S. Marines and sailors under the pretext of protecting the safety and property of American residents in Honolulu. The coup left Queen Lili'uokalani imprisoned in her own home, ʻIolani Palace. Later, the Kingdom of Hawai‘i briefly became the Republic of Hawaii and was eventually annexed by the U.S. in 1898. Following the annexation, in 1899, the U.S. Navy established a base at Pearl Harbor.
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present day.79 In this case, the U.S. is clearly the aggressor. And yet, the USS Arizona Memorial inverts the direction of aggression.80 Through the confinement of the memorial’s reference to the
1941 bombing by the Japanese, visitors are invited to feel that it is not Native Hawaiians but the
U.S. who was injured and is injurable.81
79 In the scholarship of settler colonialism, occupation is defined as a historical practice “to benefit settlers economically and politically and to subjugate…indigenous peoples” and the Native land (Asian Settler Colonialism: From Local Governance to the Habits of Everyday Life in Hawai‘i, 10). Informed by this scholarship, I use the term “occupation” to designate a settler project, “the primary object of [which] is the land itself rather than the surplus value to be derived from mixing native labour with it” (Patrick Wolfe, Settler Colonialism and the Transformation of Anthropology, 163). 80 This inversion is discursively reiterated in the museum area of the Pearl Harbor Visitor Center. The U.S. aggression in Hawai‘i, for instance, remains unacknowledged in the semi-gallery area called the “Oahu Court.” It is to supposedly display Hawaiian history with some photo panels and description boards. In this area, the story of the overthrow of the Kingdom of Hawai‘i is narrated and yet, the narration remains superficial; who organized the overthrow for what purpose is never clarified. Even worse, the “Oahu Court” is not inside the building but an open area where a quasi-garden and benches are located. Not being designed as a proper museum exhibit, it invites visitors to sit, rest, and (probably) not think. Just as the history of slavery is marginalized at Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan, the history of the overthrow is displaced from the formal museum area of the visitor center. Inside the museum, the inversion of U.S. aggression continues; there are two exhibit galleries respectively called “The Road to War” and “The Attack.” They integrate so-called Japanese perspectives ranging from the wartime hardships of Japanese Americans, including their experiences of incarceration and internment during World War II to the devastation of the city of Hiroshima caused by the atomic bombing on August 6th, 1945. The displays and artifacts in these exhibit galleries are nevertheless arranged in a way to justify the war by repeating the simplified causal relationship that casts the U.S. military aggression as self-defense: the Japanese Empire initiated a surprise attack, and the U.S. rightly/righteously responded to it. By creating a narrative arc through the placement of the display on the “Attack” on Pearl Harbor at the beginning and the display on the atomic bombing in Hiroshima at the end, the exhibit galleries juxtapose these two violent yet completely different events and imply that Hiroshima was bombed because of the attack on Pearl Harbor. Inside (and outside) the museum, the vulnerable status of the U.S. (in Hawai‘i) is never questioned but rather consistently claimed. Placed at the end of a sequential tour that begins at the visitor center and ends at the USS Arizona Memorial, visitors are able to recognize the structure of the memorial as a trace or evidence of the attack against the U.S., thereby emotionally and materially experiencing the truth of the claim that America was indeed the victim. 81 Examining what visitors are meant to feel at the Pearl Harbor Visitor Center, Vernadette Gonzalez argues that the USS Arizona Memorial engages in cultural labor through which to “[recruit] sympathy for U.S. visions of security” [Securing Paradise: Tourism and Militarism in Hawai‘i and the Philippines (Durham: Duke University Press, 2013), 116]. To be more precise, by “roaming the grounds of the memorial,…riding on a boat to see the memorial, paying homage to the names of the dead displayed throughout the site,” visitors are encouraged to “justify, desire…the militarization of Hawai‘i” as a measure to be taken for the sake of the national security “while averting their gaze from the fact that Hawai‘i was, and is, contested territory” (Ibid.).
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Something similar, I argue, occurs at the Ground Zero memorial complex in terms of the visitors’ experiences. Not unlike the USS Arizona Memorial, Reflecting Absence is a memorial that is structured by the trace of the attacks against the U.S. and can be described as both a physical and conceptual “trace” or “traces.” The memorial consists of two pools made of black granite stones. The pools are massive in size and yet minimalistic in design. No ornamental elements adorn the pools. Each pool is 192 x 192 feet square and set 30 feet into the underground, with cascading waterfalls continuously pouring down its walls. The pools are located exactly where the twin towers stood; the former are built into the latter’s footprints.
Materially and symbolically representing the obliteration of the twin towers, the footprints are literal traces of 9/11, and these traces determine the structure of the National September 11
Memorial complex. They are, therefore, affective signs of an extraordinary time-past. The memorial invites visitors to recall September 11th, 2001 repeatedly, and to remember that the
U.S. was attacked on that date. No other past is allowed to co-exist on the site.82
This mnemonic effect of Reflecting Absence impressed the selection jury of the World
Trade Center Site Memorial Competition. In the first place, the competition’s guideline stipulated that applicants would have to “[m]ake visible the footprints of the original World
Trade Center Towers.”83 Arad’s memorial design was chosen in part because it addressed this
82 There is another kind of similarity between Pearl Harbor and Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan as well as the U.S.-Mexico border. It is not just Native Hawaiians who were and are deprived of their land. New York and the borderland around the country’s southern border was once and in certain cases still is illegally obtained Native land. As the U.S. has remapped the geographies and landscapes of these places with the excuse of its vulnerability haunting the U.S., Native claims to the land have been effectively suppressed. 83 There were five requirements in total. The other four are the followings: “[r]ecognize each individual who was a victim of the September 11, 2001 and February 26, 1993 attacks”; “[p]rovide an area for quiet visitation and contemplation”; “[p]rovide an area for the families and loved ones of victims”; “[p]rovide a separate accessible space to serve as the final resting-place for the unidentified remains from the World Trade Center Site.” http://wtcsitememorial.org/pdf/LMDC_Guidelines_english.pdf (accessed February 28th).
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requirement in an evocative manner. James Young, one of the jury members, explained why
Reflecting Absence was chosen: “[Arad] made the footprints themselves the memorial, in their geometric form, and that was very important. We saw that as the most authentic reference to the site, even more authentic than bringing remnants back. The downward flow of the water seemed suddenly to remind you of the towers’ implosion. It was all suggested in the design.”84 Revealing that the integration of the footprints was the winning factor, Young points out that the selection jury assumed that Arad’s memorial design would bring back the memory of 9/11 by architecturally reenacting the traumatic event.85 Structured by the twin towers’ footprints—the trace signifying the fact the U.S. was attacked on the morning of September 11th, 2001—
Reflecting Absence is itself a material signifier of U.S.’s vulnerability. Despite the fact that
Arad’s memorial design was modified for security purposes, when visitors see the memorial, they are invited to remember and feel the national insecurity resulting from the terrorist attacks.
This kind of remembrance is also facilitated by One World Trade Center. Although it has been fortified as previously mentioned, the primary building of the new WTC complex is still a source of fear. Larry Tomscha and five other General Services Administration employees, for instance, filed a lawsuit in Manhattan federal court to prevent their government offices from moving into the tower. They were afraid that “their new workplace, One World Trade Center,
[would] be the target of future terrorist attacks.”86 This “symbol of the United States [sic]
84 “Inside the Jury: An Interview with James Young,” Architectural Record https://archive.org/stream/architecturalrec192janewy/architecturalrec192janewy_djvu.txt (accessed February 28th). 85 One of the jury members was Maya Lin, the architect who designed Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington D.C. Her presence suggests that Reflecting Absence is a memorial following the tradition of the contemporary American memorial culture, which is greatly influenced by Lin’s memorial vocabularies: a minimalistic style, black granite stones, and flowing water. Arad’s memorial design is the sum of these components. 86 Tomscha et al v. The General Services Administration et al, https://cases.justia.com/federal/district- courts/new-york/nysdce/1:2015cv07326/447557/19/0.pdf?ts=1466598046 (accessed February 28th).
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economic interests” was perceived as vulnerable, and this perception was widely shared. The fact that One World Trade Center was underoccupied by tenants at the time of their suit, attested to this problem. And at the time of this research project in 2019, under occupancy still troubles the landlord. Remembering 9/11 and feeling the danger of another attack, many prospective tenants are reluctant to rent office space in the building.
That the vulnerability of the U.S. is evoked at the Ground Zero memorial complex further complicates the links between the reconstruction of the WTC site and the Global War on Terror.
As discussed above, it is the sense of vulnerability that the U.S. is not immune to external attacks that has justified the war. With Reflecting Absence and One World Trade Center, the memorial complex embodies and fuels fear and anxiety, and in turn perpetuates the Global War on
Terror.87 After all, being constantly reminded of (the possibility of) being attacked can easily lead to the justification for and continuation of counterattacks. Arguably, the Ground Zero memorial complex is an apparatus of memory intended to make visitors remember and feel the cause of (the continuation of) the war first initiated as a response to 9/11. As changes have been
87 Scholarly discussion of Reflecting Absence, however, tends to overlook this simultaneity. Erika Doss, for instance, defines the memorial’s minimalist aesthetics as “dispassionate” and argues that Reflecting Absence is “perfunctory in … the message it projects” [Erika Doss, “De Oppresso Liber and Reflecting Absence: Ground Zero Memorials and the War on Terror,” American Quarterly 65, no. 1 (March 2013): 211]. Analyzing Arad’s work as such, she compares the memorial with America’s Response Monument subtitled as De Oppresso Liber, a public statue dedicated in Liberty Park overlooking Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan in 2011. The monument is “a sixteen-foot-tall, five-thousand-pound bronze statue of a Special Ops soldier riding an Afghan pony,” which is intended to “[commemorate] the ‘horse soldiers’ of Operation Enduring Freedom, covert combat troops” deployed in response to 9/11 in the initial stage of the Global War on Terror in Afghanistan. Doss examines De Oppresso Liber—“liberate the oppressed,” the motto of the U.S. Army Special Forces— and argues that “the stallion’s raised hoof, flared nostrils, alert ears, and agitated tail and mane suggest he is raring to go; the commando’s taut body, aggressive glare, and cache of weapons imply martial heroics and resolute purpose” (Ibid., 203). Doss criticizes the statue. According to her, it “reifies violent retribution and American imperialism” and affectively demands of visitors their consent to the Global War on Terror by filling the absence created by 9/11 with the jingoistic image (Ibid., 212s). In contrast, Doss defines Reflecting Absence as dispassionate and claims that the memorial takes no part in the war. It is, however, precisely through the so-called “dispassionate” aesthetics that Reflecting Absence is playing a role in the escalation of the Global War on Terror, and perhaps more effectively than the statue realistically reifying American imperialism.
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made to the reconstruction process of the WTC site to address feelings of fear, the memorial complex has come into existence as a fortress—physical and mnemonic—psychically providing a sense of urgency so that the U.S. must continually engage in the war in the Middle East, and eventually, in other parts of the world. In the end, the Global War on Terror is being fought not just outside the territory of the U.S., but also in Lower Manhattan.
Conclusion
In this chapter, in order to examine the simultaneous development of the Global War on
Terror and the reconstruction of the WTC site, the site of my investigation geographically and temporally shifted from New York City in 2001, to other spaces both in and outside the United
States. In the first place, I historicized the war by going back to the Cold War, and revealed that the sense of vulnerability that the U.S. is always already in danger of being injured has justified
American post-WWII oversea armed interventions. At the same time, I attended to the ways in which this sense of fear affected the “American” landscape by examining Vietnam, the U.S.-
Mexico border, Hawai‘i, and New York City. Through these temporal and geographic shifts in the “site of investigation,” the similarities among various policies and place-making processes are identified and connected across time and space. By doing so, I argue that the reconstruction of the WTC site must be understood in relationship to the Global War on Terror and how it plays an active role in acts of war in other parts of the U.S. and elsewhere in the world.
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Chapter 3
The Museum as a Battleground: Curating the Global War on Terror
The 9/11 Memorial Museum serves as the country’s principal institution concerned with exploring the implications of the events of 9/11, documenting the impact of those events and exploring 9/11’s continuing significance. —The National September 11 Memorial and Museum
The United States, the land of the free, is particularly rich in museums. That is appropriate, because museums are a means to freedom. —Wendy Beckett1
Introduction
Tom Hennes, the lead exhibition designer of the National September 11 Museum, once said that the museum’s role was to give visitors “expanded ways to encounter those aspects of
9/11 that they [had] already identif[ied] with—and those aspects that [had been] unfamiliar or contrary to their own experience” by “[m]aking a broad range of information and narratives available, while providing a stabilizing basis for the experience.”2 This statement was made to acknowledge both the function of the National September 11 Museum as a basis for the commemoration of the victims of 9/11 and the museum curators’ effort to diversify the ways in which visitors remember 9/11.
To borrow terms used by memorial scholar Edward Linenthal, Hennes’ intention was to create a “forum” and not a “temple.” He did not want the National September 11 Museum to be a temple offering only “a single committed perspective” or monolithic view.3 Instead, as if to echo
Linenthal’s notion, Hennes envisioned the museum as a forum that provides a safe place for
1 “About the Series,” https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/sisterwendy/about/index.html (accessed February 28th). 2 “The Heart of Memory: Voices from the 9/11 Memorial Museum Formation Experience,” Museum 93, no. 3 (2014): 32. 3 James Wertsch, Voices of Collective Remembering (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010), 42.
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critical inquiries into “complicated motives of actions and consequences often hardly considered at the moment of the event.”4
Hennes’ vision is what this chapter challenges. I am interested in how the victims of 9/11 are commemorated in the National September 11 Museum and whether or not the museum functions as a forum where a broad range of information and narratives regarding 9/11 are provided to visitors. For this purpose, I will recreate and identify the “route” that visitors are more-or-less expected to follow. This chapter is, in other words, written from the viewpoint of a putative docent who will expose a hidden or unacknowledged narrative arc of the museum.
In this chapter, a spatial and discursive sketch of the National September 11 Museum will be drawn. To achieve this end, I will focus on the following materials that guide visitors in one way or another: the museum map, the virtual audio tour available as a smartphone application, the museum brochure for suggested pathways, the virtual tour offered on the official website of the museum, and the official museum book No Day Shall Erase You: The Story of 9/11 Told at the National 9/11 Memorial Museum. At the same time, I will also examine the “museum exhibits” including various artifacts, films, news footage, audio recordings, and expository descriptions (written signage). Based on the analysis of these materials, this chapter will identify the museum’s spatial aesthetics as well as the museum’s rhetorical claims. The National
September 11 Museum is a significant component of the Ground Zero memorial complex. It is where visitors’ experiences are discursively shaped. Shifting the site of investigation to the museum in this chapter, I will analyze the spatial and rhetorical strategies promoted by this cultural institution to further clarify how the Ground Zero memorial complex functions as an
4 Edward Linenthal and Tom Engelhardt, Editors. History Wars: The Enola Gay and Other Battles for the American Past (New York: Henry Holt & Co, 1996), 9-10.
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apparatus of particular kinds of memories within the context of the Global War on Terror, or to show how many visitors are addressed at the site.
A Note on Visitors
Before proceeding, it is important to note is that the route recreated in this chapter is designed for primarily American visitors. This is because, as will be discussed later, they are the primary audience for the National September 11 Museum, and thus the presence of a foreign audience is of secondary concern. In fact, this museum effectively ignores those who do not fit an idealized version of an American citizen, by making certain curatorial decision, including presenting the stories in English, which is commonly used as the “national language” of the U.S.
Presumably, those visitors who are not proficient in the language would have a less meaningful experience. Although the museum offers the audio guide in multiple languages such as Spanish,
French, Chinese, German, Italian, Japanese, and Portuguese, the contents of these non-English audio guides are significantly reduced.5 Some visitors could easily get lost in the flood of expository descriptions in the museum, all of which are written only in English. The National
September 11 Museum attempts to universalize its message, as stated in the mission statement:
“Demonstrating the consequences of terrorism on individual lives and its impact on communities at the local, national and international levels, the Museum attests to the triumph of human dignity over human depravity and affirms an unwavering commitment to the fundamental value of human life.” And yet, the National September 11 museum is a place where that universal message is primarily meant for American citizens who can understand the language and identity
5 There are 37 entries in the audio guide in English, and 18 out of them are about the Historical Exhibition, which is one of the core exhibitions of the National September 11 Museum. All of these entries about Historical Exhibition are omitted in the audio guides in other languages.
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with the American values represented in the exhibition galleries. Keeping these constraints in mind, this chapter will describe the museum’s efforts to “expand” American visitors’ understanding of 9/11.
Remember Those Who Died
The National 9/11 Memorial & Museum is an enormous institution. It encloses 110,000 square feet of publicly accessible space within the foundations of the original World Trade
Center (WTC) with two exhibitions placed on the footprints of the Twin Tower. Its permanent collection includes “more than 11,000 artifacts, ... over 300 moving images, and more than
40,000 print and digital photographs.”6 With its main exhibition located seven stories below ground, the museum is designed to lead visitors down to the foundation level of the WTC on the
Ramp, the descending walkway symbolizing the “construction ramps used at this site, one to build the World Trade Center complex in the 1960s and another installed during the post-9/11 recovery period to haul debris out of the site and to provide access to victims’ family members and visiting dignitaries who came to pay their respects at Ground Zero.”7
6 “Collection,” https://www.911memorial.org/collection (accessed February 28th) 7 No Day Shall Erase You: The Story of 9/11 as Told at the National September 11 Memorial Museum, 41.
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Finch’s Mosaic
Memorial Hall
Center Passage Tribute Walk
Figure 3: Museum Map [Diagram: from Graphics, http://www.grahaphics.com/9-11-Memorial-
Museum.”]
At the end of Ramp, visitors reach Memorial Hall, a space situated between the footprints of the
Twin Towers, in which a large artwork “Trying to Remember the Color of the Sky on That
September Morning,” created by an American artist Spencer Finch is installed. The artwork covers a large wall which is also the facade of the Repository, and thus “provides a dignified and reverential setting for the remains to repose—temporarily or in perpetuity—as identifications continue to be made.”8
From there, visitors can choose where to go and what to see next. Because of its vast scale and open design scheme, visitors may follow different paths once inside the museum.
Therefore, some visitors may not see the same objects that other visitors view. They can walk on
8 “Remains Repository at the World Trade Center Site,” https://www.911memorial.org/remains-repository-world-trade-center-site (accessed February 28th).
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the Tribute Walk, which is “a dramatic venue for large-scale works of tribute art” and see “[a] diverse array of artworks...ranging from quilts to children’s paintings and including unique items such as a decorated tribute motorcycle and engraved Waterford crystal triangles that formed part of New Year’s Eve Ball dropped at Times Square on December 31, 2001.”9 Visitors can also go to In Memoriam, the memorial exhibition, “to honor and to learn more about each of the 2,983 people killed in the September 11, 2001 and February 26, 1993 attacks.”10 Located on the footprint of the South Tower, the exhibition is structured as a square within a square:
The outer square is lined with portrait photographs placed floor to ceiling on all
four walls, surrounding visitors with the faces and names of all who were killed in
the attacks…
The gallery’s inner chamber provides a more intimate space for remembrance, its
glass floor revealing a remnant of the original South Tower floor slab from the
lowest level of the World Trade Center to remind us of where we stand. Profiles
of every victim, each running about a minute in length, are projected onto the
walls of this room. Where family members, friends, former colleagues, and others
recorded remembrances of their loved ones, brief audio clips have been included
so that visitors can be introduced to victims by those who knew them best…11
Or, visitors can move on to the Center Passage where the physical remnants of the attacks are on display. In this area, “[s]ingular and enigmatic in appearance, not immediately recognizable, they are presented to visitors with minimal context: a section of the communications antenna from the
North Tower; a motor that powered one of the Twin Towers’ 198 elevators; the crushed truck of
9 No Day Shall Erase You, 68. 10 Museum Map, n.p. 11 No Day Shall Erase You, 65.
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FDNY Ladder Company 3; and steel twisted by the impact of hijacked Flight 11.”12 The Center
Passage allows visitors to proceed either to the Historical Exhibition located within the original footprint of the North Tower or to the Foundation Hall, “a place of reflection for a community of memory” housing the “Last Column” and a portion of the “Slurry Wall.”
Figure 4: “Last Column” [Photo: Tomoaki Morikawa]
12 Ibid., 83.
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Figure 5: “Slurry Wall” [Photo: Tomoaki Morikawa]
The latter forms one side of the museum’s inner wall, and together with the Last Column constitute the most iconic in-situ remnants in the museum. The Center Passage links the
Memorial Hall to the Historical Exhibition and Foundation Hall. There is also another option available: to go out of the museum from one of the early exits created for emotionally overwhelmed visitors. As such, there are many ways to walk through the National September 11
Museum. There is, however, one specific route spatially and discursively created by the museum’s structure and exhibits.
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Firstly, as pointed out earlier, the structure of the National September 11 Museum spatially determines the route that most visitors take. It consists of a straight path from the Ramp to the Memorial Hall. On this route, it appears that the impact of the terrorist attacks on a global level is implied by some exhibits in one way or another. In reality, however, the museum’s attention is predominantly fixated on the national framework. 9/11 is, in other words, narrativized within the framework of “America.” At the very beginning of the Ramp, a large map visually illustrates the routes taken by the four hijacked planes with expository descriptions informing visitors how the events unfolded on the morning of September 11th, 2001:
“Approximately two billion people, almost one third of the world’s population, are estimated to have witnessed these horrific events directly or via television, radio, and internet broadcasts that day.”13 Furthermore, visitors soon encounter a multi-media exhibit gallery “We Remember” created by Jake Barton, the head of the media design team for the National September 11
Memorial and Museum.
13 The caption in the museum.
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Figure 6: A Large Map and “We Remember” [Photo: Tomoaki Morikawa]
In this gallery, visitors encounter the global scale of the terrorist attacks. As visitors walk through “We Remember,” they are immersed within a montage of voices and images—voices simultaneously played in English and multiple other languages, with images of place-names from around the globe flashing on digital screens and eventually forming a map of the world.
However, this is the extent to which the museum narrates 9/11 within a global context. Although this introductory exhibit gallery reenacts the so-called “global response” to the terrorist attacks, this expansive context quickly narrows. “We Remember” is followed by the “Last Column” and a portion of the "Slurry Wall.” These two elements dramatically (re)frame the story of 9/11
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within a national narrative. In fact, visitors first view these two in-situ remnants by looking down on them from the Overlook in the middle of the Ramp soon after exiting “We Remember.”14
Both the “Last Column” and the “Slurry Wall” are saturated with symbolic meanings. On the one hand, the “Last Column,” the 58-ton, 36-foot-tall piece of welded plate steel, covered with messages to the dead, photographs, and memorial inscriptions and tributes affixed by firefighters, police, and rescue workers, and construction workers who were engaged in the recovery mission at Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan for nine months after 9/11, has been regarded as a testament to American heroism and resilience. On the other hand, the “Slurry
Wall,” which was originally built to prevent the water of the Hudson River from seeping into the construction site of the WTC and flooding Lower Manhattan, has been considered the physical representation of American fortitude because, as is explained in the interpretive panel in the
Overlook area, “[d]espite fears that it might be breached on 9/11, thereby worsening the catastrophic impact of the attacks, the wall held.”15
The National September 11 Museum designers developed the physical approach to these two symbolically laden in-situ remnants to emphasize their enormous scale and importance. As mentioned above, they are first seen from the Overlook area through which every visitor passes.
Hence, all visitors cannot escape viewing the “Last Column” and a portion of the “Slurry Wall” from this dramatic perspective. In this way, the museum spatially frames their function and meaning within a tale of American heroism, resilience, and fortitude.
The National September 11 Museum’s national narrative (or interpretive framework) is also based on the subject of loss. It discursively frames the losses of 9/11 as exclusively
14 The other one is, as pointed out earlier, located at the end of the Ramp. From this overlook, visitors can have a good view of Finch’s mosaic 15 Ibid.
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American. Hence, while those who were killed by the terrorist attacks are commemorated in the museum, who they are is not explicitly discussed. To be more specific, the victims of 9/11 exist as an abstract numerical figure (i.e,. 3,000) and grouped together as American losses. For instance, the fact that more than 10% of the victims were foreign nationals is never highlighted, as this would disrupt the national narrativization of 9/11.16 Rather, the abstraction of the victims is furthermore intensified by the omnipresence of the American national flag throughout the museum. There are even artworks of the flag integrating the names of the victims or their faces, regardless of their nationality.17 Together, these representations suggest that “America” is the primary victim and the only frame of reference for understanding 9/11 and commemorating the human losses of the terrorist attacks.
Paying tribute to the victims by grouping them together, I would suggest, is one of the major functions of the National September 11 Museum. In fact, it is repeated again by the art installation “Trying to Remember the Color of the Sky on That September Morning” (2014) that every visitor encounters in Memorial Hall.
16 Except for the small interpretive panel stating that “[p]eople from more than 90 nations were killed in the 9/11 terrorist attacks” and the display of flags from each of those countries, the museum does not offer any additional information explicitly describing those foreign nationals. What is worse, even these minimal indicators are peripheralized: they are placed not in one of the exhibition areas but in the museum cafe. The flags, which are hung from the balcony of the cafe, look like decorative elements. They are so tightly exhibited together that one cannot easily identify which countries are represented. 17 For instance, the artwork “Flag of Remembrance,” which is a huge tapestry-like American flag hung in Tribute Walk, uses victims’ faces. For this piece, American artists Mindy Kombert and Sherry Kronenfeld “sketched an image of American flag over the numbered squares” and filled them with photos of victims (quoted from the audio guide). Another artwork of the American flag is “Flag of Heroes,” which contains the names of all those who perished in the WTC, the Pentagon, United flights 175 and 93, and American flights 11 and 77. Visitors can purchase this flag in the museum shop.
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Figure 7: Spencer Finch, “Trying to Remember the Color of the Sky on That September
Morning” (2014) [Photo: Tomoaki Morikawa]
An American artist Spencer Finch created the mosaic of color with 2,983 individual watercolor drawings. Every drawing is a unique shade of blue, symbolically indicating that every victim possessed a distinct personality and perspective. According to the interpretive panel found in the
Overlook area at the end of the Ramp where visitors have their first glimpse of Finch’s mosaic, this artwork “centers on the idea of memory.”18 The drawing panels are individually affixed to the wall of the Memorial Hall and surround the quotation from Book IX of The Aeneid by the
Roman poet Virgil: “No Day Shall Erase You from the Memory of the Time.” Together with the quotation, this artwork supposedly signifies that “[w]hat one person perceives as blue might not be the same as what another person sees; our memories, just like our perception of color share a
18 The caption in the museum.
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common reference.”19 Because no other interpretation is offered, Finch’s monumental artwork, composed of abstract mosaic tiles form a complementary relationship with the aforementioned artworks of the American national flag: together, they implicitly present or perform the notion that there is only one frame of reference through which to remember 9/11. These artworks eloquently support the museum’s “promise” to remember the victims, but by subsuming all who died as Americans.
Even the memorial exhibition In Memoriam allows for the co-optation or American nationalization of the victims of 9/11. The exhibition is intended to “[render] the number 2,983 an abstraction no longer” with the walls of faces “made up people, a true cross-section of humanity, aged two and a half to 85, from more than 90 nations, spanning the spectrum of ethnicities, economic classes, and faith traditions.”20 In the exhibition, as pointed out earlier, victims’ profiles and recorded tributes are included. These curatorial efforts to individualize the victims are powerful, but not effective enough to disrupt the museum’s larger strategy to circumscribe the losses of 9/11 as American losses. In In Memoriam, it is not clear whether or not the victims’ ages, nationalities, ethnicities, and religions are actually acknowledged as invaluable diverse attributes. Arguably, what visitors can perceive just by looking at the walls of faces with no specific information other than their names, and just by randomly listening to their
“familiar, loving, at times humorous” profiles is only that a mass of innocent people were indiscriminately killed by the terrorist attacks.21 In order to know who these victims are, one needs to spend time on interacting with the touch screens set in the memorial exhibition to obtain background information on each victim. Otherwise, as is expressed in the official museum
19 Ibid. 20 No Day Shall Erase You, 65. 21 Ibid.
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guidebook, these individual losses are subsumed under a generalizing narrative: “The memorial exhibition serves as a reminder that, given the arbitrary and indiscriminate nature of mass murder, any one of us might have been a victim…”22 In In Memoriam, and by extension in the museum itself, the specificities of the individual victims are continually overwritten by the rhetorical strategies in the museum. For most visitors, those who were killed will remain a mass of innocent people, or a mass of innocent, diverse yet American citizens; all the losses of 9/11 are commemorated as American losses at the National September 11 Museum.23
“Historical” Claims
After walking down the Ramp to the Memorial Hall, the various museum guides such as the audio tour, brochure, and an official museum book, direct visitors from In Memoriam and the
Center Passage to the Historical Exhibition. The National September 11 Museum, in other words, while exposing visitors to the immense damage that 9/11 caused through the display of the faces of the victims and the repetition of their names in the memorial exhibition, and through the enormous remnants left by the terrorist attacks, eventually leads visitors to the exhibition which “historicizes” the story of 9/11. The museum considers the Historical Exhibition a core experience and encourages visitors to allocate much of their time on exploring it.24 Almost half of the audio descriptions available through the smartphone application focus on the exhibits in the Historical Exhibition. In it, hundreds of artifacts “bear witness” to the terrorist attacks and offer an endless amount of information on the events of 9/11, the “historical” context, and the
22 Ibid. 23 It is, therefore, possible that the cross-section of humanity among the victims of 9/11 presented here only fosters the U.S. national image as a country of diversity, as in the case of the annual commemoration ceremony performed by diverse, yet “American” family members of the victims. 24 “Suggested Pathways,” https://www.911memorial.org/sites/default/files/SuggestedPathways.pdf (accessed February 28th).
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aftermath often in long expository descriptions. Undoubtedly, the Historical Exhibition is the focal point of the National September 11 Museum.
The narrative produced in the museum becomes more clearly defined in this core exhibition which consists of three sections: “Events of the Day,” “Before 9/11,” and “After
9/11.” “Beginning with the impact of the first hijacked airliner...and continuing to the end of the day on 9/11,” the first section “Events of the Day” is designed to encourage visitors to reexperience 9/11 by “[presenting] the escalation of events as witnessed that day, whether in
New York City or in the areas near the Pentagon and western Pennsylvania, or by watching the repeated television broadcasts worldwide.”25 In this section, the damages of the terrorist attacks are illustrated with artifacts, images, first-person testimony, and archival audio and video recordings. “Events of the Day,” focused on the losses of 9/11, is, in many ways, a continuation of In Memoriam and the Center Passage. The theme of the next section “ Before 9/11” is to
“[provide] historical context for what transpired on September 11, 2001.”26 By describing the roots and the rise of al-Qaeda dating back to the late 1970s, this section “tempers the emotional intensity of the first part with a more cognitive journey through the attack’s historical antecedents, toward an understanding of who did this, and why.”27 “After 9/11,” the final section of the Historical Exhibition displays objects showing “disparate though concurrent responses [by
American citizens] in the immediate days and weeks after the attacks” to the invasions of
Afghanistan and Iraq.28 Among the exhibit objects are posters of missing people and makeshift memorials which appeared in many parts of New York City, and the construction tools used during the recovery mission. This section ends with an exhibit which “explores issues being
25 No Day Shall Erase You, 92. 26 Ibid., 138. 27 Ibid. 28 Ibid., 162.
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negotiated in the open-ended context of the post-9/11 world and poses ongoing questions arising out of 9/11.” These three sections are sequentially and spatially connected in this order. Through them, the Historical Exhibition produces a narrative that begins with the story of the “losses” of
9/11, to the “historicization” of events, and ends with “mourning” the losses of 9/11.
The Innocence of the United States
As pointed out earlier, the losses of 9/11 are essentially reenacted in “Events of the Day.”
In this section, the terrorist attacks are chronologically traced and retold with news footage and detailed expository descriptions. To complement this information, first-person accounts of survivors and victims, including real-time messages and calls to emergency services and family members from those trapped within the buildings and the planes, are continuously replayed.
These audio narrations are strategically integrated to emotionally move visitors.29 When numerous tragic stories of loss are effectively presented in this manner, the exhibition narrative circumscribes the losses of 9/11 as American losses. In particular, exhibits in “Events of the
Day” emphasize the words of first responders and present the stories of how they were killed and honorably died as American heroes. The museum, for instance, describes the actions of heroic firefighters and police officers who were killed during rescue operations, displaying their battered IDs and badges retrieved from the rubble, as well as parts of crushed fire engines and patrol cars. Included among the portraits of first responder heroes are the stories of several
American citizens. Welles Remy Crowther, an American equities trader working for Sandler
O’Neill and Partners located on the 104th floor of the South Tower, is one of them. His red bandanna is prominently featured to illustrate his courageous and sacrificial acts to rescue
29 Many early exits are, therefore, set up in “Events of the Day” for those who are emotionally overwhelmed while they reexperience 9/11 in this exhibit area.
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others.30 Together, the stories of American heroes form the core narrative of “Events of the Day” and show visitors that 9/11 is a story about American losses and bravery.
The next section “Before 9/11” takes the narrative one step further as it goes back in time. Through a series of exhibits, this section rhetorically claims that the U.S. itself was attacked. “Before 9/11” begins with a display of film posters, magazine covers, and photographs featuring the Twin Towers as well as a large architectural model of the WTC showing “the way the entire 16-acre complex would look upon completion back in 1971,” a display that emphasizes the iconic importance of WTC for Americans and in the U.S.31 In this gallery, the towers are defined “as emblematic of America itself—a place of possibilities and dreams that defie[s] limitation.”32 The identification of the WTC and America is also visually implied by a photograph capturing a meeting between U.S. President-elect George H. W. Bush, U.S. President
Ronald Reagan, and General Secretary Mikhail Gorbachev of the Soviet Union during the Cold
War and against the backdrop of the Twin Towers. This was taken “during the Soviet leader’s trip to deliver a historic speech before the United Nations announcing unilateral arms cuts.”33 In the photograph, President Reagan and President-elect Bush, about the same height, look like twin brothers wearing coats similar in style and color.
30 “Wearing a red bandanna over his mouth and nose to guard against smoke, Crowther drew on his training as a volunteer firefighter to guide evacuees and help the injured” in the South Tower (No Day Shall Erase You, 109). The Red Bandanna: A life, A Choice, A Legacy (New York: Penguin Books, 2018), a biography written by Tom Rinaldi, is one of a few books which are sold in the museum shop. 31 No Day Shall Erase You, 138. 32 The caption in the museum. 33 No Day Shall Erase You, 140.
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Figure 8: “World Leaders, December 7, 1988” [Photo: No Day Shall Erase You, 140]
Furthermore, in terms of composition, the figures of the men parallel the towers in the background. Within the context of the exhibition, it appears that these two American leaders personify the Twin Towers. The first gallery, “Before 9/11,” is thus curated in ways to indicate that the towers were the embodiment of the U.S. itself. The curatorial strategy of presenting the symbolic status of the Twin Towers immediately after “Events of the Day” seems to emphasize that not only innocent American citizens, but also the towers themselves and what they represented were attacked out of the blue or without provocation. “Before 9/11” begins its narrative by portraying the U.S. as an innocent victim.
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Subsequent exhibits in this section portray the U.S. as an innocent actor in history as well as within the context of 9/11. The exhibit “Roots of Al-Qaeda,” for instance, “historically” accomplishes this by referring to the U.S. military involvement in the Middle East in the late
1970s and 80s, but with important details omitted. Despite the fact that the U.S. was actually the aggressor due to its own Cold War policies, the U.S. is portrayed as an innocent actor. An interpretive panel about the Soviet-Afghan War and Arab Afghans clearly illustrates this point.
By barely commenting on the Cold War, the text explains the reason why the U.S. became a target for al-Qaeda:
The Soviet-Afghan War (1979-1989)
The Soviet Union invaded Afghanistan in late December 1979. The Soviets aimed
to protect the Afghan communist government, threatened by an armed uprising of
Afghans of diverse political and ethnic backgrounds. These fighters were called
mujahideen, a term for warriors engaged in waging a jihad to defend Islam.
Ultimately, nearly a decade of war claimed the lives of approximately one million
Afghans and almost 15,000 Soviets. Having failed to defeat the Afghan rebels, the
Soviet superpower completed its withdrawal from Afghanistan in 1989.
The Arab Afghans
Islamic countries called for armed struggle against the Soviet occupation of
Afghanistan. Thousands of young Muslims from all over the world joined the
fight as mujahideen. Known as Arab Afghans, the foreign volunteers engaged in
occasional firefights, and their presence had a negligible effect on the outcome of
the war.
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Nevertheless, after the Soviet withdrawal, Arab Afghans proclaimed that together
with native Afghan rebels, they had defeated a superpower. The victory inspired a
fringe group of Arab Afghans led by Saudi-born Osama bin Laden to contemplate
other targets, including the world’s remaining superpower, the United States.34
Although the Cold War is implicitly referenced, it is never explicitly stated that the Soviet Union was fighting the U.S. in Afghanistan. The panel does not reveal that the Soviets had to continue the war because of the U.S. intervention. In 1980, President Jimmy Carter’s national security adviser, Zbigniew Brzenzinski came up with a strategic report called “Reflections on Soviet
Intervention in Afghanistan” in which he says, “Our ultimate goal is the withdrawal of Soviet troops from Afghanistan. Even if this is not attainable, we should make Soviet involvement as costly as possible.”35 Carter embraced it, and so did Ronald Reagan, who took office after
Carter.36 Instead of historicizing the U.S. intervention in Afghanistan, the panel informs visitors that the war was fought only between the Soviets and mujahideen, and that a small sector of mujahideen led by bin Laden eventually targeted the U.S. for no reason other than that the U.S. became the last remaining superpower.
What is important to note here is that the panel carefully distinguishes native “Afghan rebels” from “Arab Afghans.” This distinction enables the National September 11 Museum to favorably portray the Cold War, as is done in another panel “U.S. President Ronald Reagan
Meets with Afghan Rebel Leaders in the White House, 1983” and in the film “The Rise of Al-
34 The caption in the museum. 35 Zbigniew Brzenzinski, “Memorandum for the Secretary of State” https://nsarchive2.gwu.edu//NSAEBB/NSAEBB396/docs/1980-01- 02%20Presidential%20Decisions%20on%20Pakistan%20-%20Afghanistan.pdf (accessed February 28th). 36 Stephen Kinzer Overthrow: America’s Century of Regime Change from Hawaii to Iraq (New York: Times Books, 2007.), 267. As a result, the U.S. aid to the mujahideen “rose steadily from $30 million in 1981 to $200 million in 1984 (Ibid).
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Qaeda” on view in this area in “Before 9/11”: “The United States government also supported the
Afghan rebellion against its Cold War rival, the Soviet Union. The CIA funneled money and arms through Pakistan’s intelligence agency. This funding was directed to native Afghans. Arab fighters had their own resources.37” By distinguishing native Afghan rebels from Arab Afghans, the museum asserts that the U.S. did what was right and thus was on the right side of history.
This distinction is problematic. It is done at the expense of ignoring the fact that CIA funding was indirectly funneled through Pakistan and eventually distributed to Arab fighters, including bin-Laden.38 Consequently, visitors are unable to know that without the U.S. military involvement in Afghanistan, there would have been no bin-Laden, and without bin-Laden, there would have been no al-Qaeda, and without al-Qaeda, there would have been no 9/11.39 The
National September 11 Museum does not hold the U.S. accountable for its Cold War military aggression and the consequences of its activity to what occurred on September 11th, 2001. On the contrary, the museum effectively claims that the U.S. had nothing to do with how and why bin
Laden became influential, and instead helps establish the innocence of the U.S.
Evil Muslims
37 The caption in the museum. 38 According to Kinzer, “[n]early every cent of [the CIA funding], along with nearly every weapon and bullet, was delivered first to the [Inter-Services Intelligence Agency (ISI) of Pakistan] to its favored commanders” (267). This flow allowed the ISI to channel American aid to those who shared Pakistani General Zia al-Huq’s commitment to fundamentalist Islam. Among them, there was Gulbeddin Hekmatyar, a ruthlessly ambitious commander who made a fortune in the drug trade, dreamed of turning Afghanistan into a pure Islamic state, and liked to lead his followers in lusty chants of “Death to America!” (ibid.). In so doing, the ISI recruited militants from other Muslim countries. “At CIA- sponsored camps inside Pakistan,” Kinzer argues, “they were trained in modern techniques of sabotage, ambush, and assault, and in the use of weapons from sniper rifles to time-delayed bomb detonators (Ibid., 270). 39 The disruption of the historical trajectory is attributable to the museum’s decision to use Lawrence Wright’s The Looming Tower: Al-Qaeda and the Road to 9/11 (New York: Vintage, 2007) as a reference to historicizing 9/11 (see No Day Shall Erase You, 156). While offering insights into al-Qaeda, its founders, and its predecessors and affiliated organizations, and giving detailed accounts of the personalities of the members of these organizations, Wright remains silent on the role that the U.S. played in Afghanistan in relation to the Soviets.
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To put it plainly, the U.S. is never represented as the aggressor in the National September
11 Museum. This is apparent in the unreflexive use of the term “Ground Zero.” In the museum, it is given the following definition: “Within hours of the attacks, journalists began referring to the scene of mass destruction at the World Trade Center site as Ground Zero, a term for the epicenter of a blast or quake.”40 By introducing the term as a politically neutral and objective qualifier, the museum ignores the historical context out of which the term Ground Zero emerged. The term was originally used to designate the epicenters of the atomic and hydrogen bombings by the U.S. on Hiroshima and Nagasaki during World War II, as well as on Bikini atoll (in the central
Pacific) and Yucca Flats (in New Mexico) during the time of nuclear testing in the mid twentieth century. The museum discursively sanitizes the term Ground Zero by decontextualizing, dehistoriczing, and depoliticizing the term and not linking it to a history of U.S. aggressions, It thus rewrites history and depicts the U.S. not as an aggressor capable of atomic bombings, but as an innocent victim and the unfair target of aggressive actions by other nations and peoples.
In contrast, Muslims are negatively portrayed as the evil enemy-other of the U.S. in the
National September 11 Museum. The museum introduces the so-called Muslim issue with the exhibit “The 1993 World Trade Center Bombing” in “Before 9/11,” immediately before the exhibit “Roots of Al-Qaeda” or immediately after the aforementioned iconic images of the Twin
Towers and presidents Bush and Reagan. In the exhibit about the 1993 bombing, this terrorist attack is presented as a precursor of 9/11. Alongside the display of the wall fragment from the
WTC parking garage, the interpretive panels in this exhibit chronologically traces the bombing and describes the significant damage that it caused:
40 The caption in the museum.
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At 12:18 p.m. on Friday, February 26, 1993, terrorists detonated approximately
1,200 pounds of explosives in a rented van parked in the World Trade Center’s
underground parking garage. The bomb killed six people and injured more than
1,000. More than 1,000 emergency personnel arrived to aid in the evacuation and
treat the injured. Meanwhile, most of the 40,000 people who were in the Twin
Towers walked down smoke-filled stairways in the dark. The last survivors
escaped from the buildings more than 11 hours after the bomb blast.41
In the exhibit, the 1993 bombing is further explained in detail to visitors. Another interpretive panel describes how the terrorists plotted the bombing, carried it out, and how one of them was captured when he reported that the van, which they used for the bombing, was stolen. (He wanted to reclaim the deposit money back.) How their trials proceeded is carefully described to visitors, including the attack plot’s leader Ramzi Yousef’s statement: “Yes, I am a terrorist, and I am proud of it. And I support terrorism so long as it was against the United States government…42” It is, however, never clear who the terrorists are in this exhibit. Other than their names, their identities remain vague to the extent that they are grouped together with al-Qaeda:
“Though carried out by different groups of extremists, the attacks of 1993 and 2001 both occurred within the broader context of an emerging radical islamist ideology.43” The museum only nominally considers the “broader” context and thus fails to explain the different groups within it. Whether or not the groups may have different political and religious beliefs does not matter. What is emphasized is that the groups shared a radical Islamist ideology and consequently terrorized the U.S. Regardless of the differences that may have existed between
41 Ibid. 42 Ibid. 43 Ibid.
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them, the terrorists responsible for the 1993 bombing and al-Qaeda are generalized as “them,” or the enemy-other threatening an innocent U.S.
This kind of generalization is repeated when the Islamic religion is explained to visitors in “Before 9/11.” One can argue that the National September 11 Museum takes a precautionary step here. In an exhibit diagram, the museum states (and visually confirms the fact) that “Al-
Qaeda represents a tiny fraction of the global Muslim community.”44 (See Figure 5.)
Figure 9: “Al-Qaeda in the Context of Sunni Islam, circa 2000” [No Day Shall Erase You, 146]
This explanation, however, fails to help visitors understand anything other than the fact that al-
Qaeda is an Islamist or an Islamic group. Although the diagram visually illustrates that not all
44 Caption in the museum.
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Muslims belong to al-Qaeda, the image still suggests that the latter is a part of the former, and al-
Qaeda is inextricably associated with Muslims.
It is also possible that the museum’s precautionary warning is overwritten by other descriptions about Islam and Muslims, as can be inferred in the following example in the exhibits:
Islamism and the Roots of al-Qaeda
Islam is one of the world’s major religions. Adherents of Islam are known as
Muslims. Islamism is a political movement asserting that Muslims should be
governed strictly according to Islamic law, known as sharia. Islamists seek
political and religious control of Muslim countries. There are differing
perspectives among Islamists about when and if violence can be used to achieve
their aims.
Al-Qaeda in the Context of the Broader Muslim World
...Its goal has been to launch a global, violent jihad—struggle in defense of
Islam—that would rally large numbers of Muslims to its cause…
The objective of purifying Muslim societies is central to an Islamic movement
known as Salafism, which seeks to reform Muslim society by returning to what it
considers a more authentic practice of Islam. Most Salafis do not advocate
violence to achieve this end. Even when Salafism does not advocate violence, it
often preaches hostility toward non-Muslims as well as other Muslims who do not
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share its beliefs. Al-Qaeda is among a number of Salafi groups that did turn
toward an active strategy of violent jihad.45
In this particular interpretive panel, the text starts with a supposedly objective fact that Islam is one of the world’s major religions and ends with a description of violent extremist groups. The majority of Muslims whose existence is only vaguely implied receive no positive attention.
Instead, the text continues to focus on particular extremist groups, including al-Qaeda, when it
“explains” Islam. Here, it is pointed out that Islam does not entirely exclude violence as a means of achieving goals, and some followers of Islam wholeheartedly embrace it. In “Before 9/11,” the museum thus implies that Muslims are violent or hostile extremists.46 Muslims, in other words, are presented to visitors as “them” or the enemy-other of the U.S. with whom it is impossible to safely cohabit.47
Either with Us or with Them
45 Ibid. 46 The demonization of Muslims by the National September 11 Museum has not gone unnoticed. The aforementioned film “The Rise of Al-Qaeda” was, for instance, a subject of criticism. It was believed that by watching the film, “[u]nsophisticated visitors who do not understand the difference between Al Qaeda and Muslims may come away with a prejudiced view of Islam, leading to antagonism and even confrontation toward Muslim believers near the site” [Sharon Otterman, “Film at 9/11 Museum Sets Off Clash Over Reference to Islam,” The New York Times, April 24th, 2014 https://www.nytimes.com/2014/04/24/nyregion/interfaith-panel-denounces-a-9-11-museum-exhibits- portrayal-of-islam.html?mcubz=0 (accessed February 28th)]. The film refers to the terrorists as Islamists who assume their mission is a jihad. It was feared that when exposed to the film, most visitors are “simply going to say Islamist means Muslims, jihadist means Muslims” (Ibid.). Furthermore, when the National 9/11 Memorial and Museum invited an interfaith group of clergy members to share their views, they expressed fear that the inflammatory tone of the film and its use of the words “jihad” and “Islamist” without sufficient explanation will very likely “[cast] aspersions on all Muslims,” and hence requested changes (Ibid.). The museum, however, declined to take the interfaith group’s advice. Without clarifying that extremists do not represent Muslims, the museum decided to screen the film. 47 Muslims are not allowed positive representation in the National September 11 Museum. The museum refused the interface group’s suggestion that the story of Mohammad Salman Hamdani, a New York City Police Department cadet and Emergency Medical Technician who was killed when he was engaged in a rescue operation, should be included (Otterman, “Obscuring a Muslim name, and an American’s Sacrifice,” The New York Times, January 2nd, 2012, https://www.nytimes.com/2012/01/02/nyregion/sept- 11-memorial-obscures-a-police-cadets-bravery.html). Despite the fact that there were many Muslims among the victims of 9/11, mourners, and recovery workers, Muslims are excluded from the museum.
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After walking through the exhibits representing Muslims as “them” through a sequence of interpretive panels and the film “The Rise of Al-Qaeda,” visitors enter “After 9/11,” the last section of the Historical Exhibition. Through this exhibit sequence, they are brought back from the “past” to the “present” and the “future,” or from the “history” of 9/11 to the aftermath of the terrorist attacks and beyond.
The last section highlights the Global War on Terror. This is the logical conclusion of the narrative arc. In the first place, the museum exhibits are curated in ways that repeat the war’s logic defined in Chapter Two: the U.S. was attacked and is likely to be attacked again by its evil enemy-others, and thus, military actions must be initiated, often preemptively, and continued against those enemy-others. By displaying the in-situ remnants and victims’ first-person testimony that bear witness to the damages inflicted upon American citizens and the U.S., the museum repeatedly reinforces a sense of vulnerability, that the U.S. is always already in danger of being injured. Consequently, in “After 9/11,” the necessity for the U.S. to fight back to minimize its vulnerability is underscored. In addition, the previous two sections “Events of the
Day” and “Before 9/11” set up a binary opposition between the innocent U.S. and evil Muslims, as the basis for fighting the Global War on Terror. What follows in “After 9/11” justifies the war to visitors.
The justification is explicitly made in the exhibit and signage. Exiting from “Before
9/11,” visitors are first led to an area where posters of missing people and makeshift memorials are displayed, along with the construction tools used during the recovery mission. Next, visitors enter an area where a group of American national flags are prominently displayed in one showcase to represent their ubiquitous presence in the post-9/11 American society. While the former gallery commemorates innocent (American) victims and celebrates acts of compassion,
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volunteerism, and public service shown by (American) laborers during the recovery and rebuilding efforts, the latter gallery reminds visitors of the Global War on Terror in a specific way:
The 2001 terrorist attacks were the deadliest foreign strike on American soil and
the first major attack by a foreign entity since the 1941 bombing of Pearl Harbor.
It awakened both a new sense of vulnerability and resurgent patriotism.
American flags appeared everywhere from lapel pins to automobile antennas.
Many feared additional attacks, including the use of chemical and biological
weapons. Anxiety about terrorism characterized the “new normal.”
The U.S. government initiated a Global War on Terror. Within the first month
after 9/11, the U.S. announced the formation of the Office of Homeland Security,
declared war on “a radical network of terrorists and every government that
supports them,” and launched a military operation in Afghanistan, thought to be
the hiding place of al-Qaeda leader Osama bin Laden. While there was not a
public consensus about military action, many Americans supported the nation’s
armed forces and affirmed patriotic resolve.48
Here, the Global War on Terror is presented as a “just” war. The interpretive panel claims that the war was justified; 9/11 was likened to the bombing of Pearl Harbor and, therefore, the U.S. needed to retaliate. Invading Afghanistan, which was believed to be a haven for terrorists, is also considered strategically sensible. At the same time, the anxiety shared by many Americans during the aftermath of the terrorist attacks is described. The panel, in other words, explains how
48 The caption in the museum.
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insecure American citizens felt under the “new normal” and thus regarded the Global War on
Terror as necessary by many, if not all, Americans (since there was no public consensus). By doing so, the National September 11 Museum suggests that the war was an appropriate step for the U.S. to undertake to combat the feelings of anxiety about terrorism felt by American citizens.
In addition, near the end of “After 9/11,” the “morality” of the Global War on Terror is hinted at in the gallery “Beyond the Recovery.” Through several interpretive panels, visitors are educated on how to understand 9/11 and its aftermath, as well as the after-effects. The museum even acknowledges the following: “It may not be possible to ever fully prevent terrorism or forestall heinous acts by individuals intent on doing evil, but we do have control over how we respond. As witnesses to events unfolding in our time, how we choose to respond—participating in a charity run, enlisting in the military to serve the nation, rebuilding communities devastated by a natural disaster, training caregivers to assist victims of mass violence—demonstrates the best of our human nature rather than the worst.49” Thus, in this interpretive panel, the museum implies that the U.S. will always be a potential target of terrorism. Terrorism is even listed alongside a natural disaster as if to indicate its inevitability and ever-looming presence. Visitors are also told that responding to terrorism is important. The panel counts serving in the military as a legitimate response along with other humanitarian actions. Joining the military to defeat supporters of terrorism is one among several options that can demonstrate the best of our human nature.50
49 The caption in the museum. 50 In another interpretive panel, militarily serving the nation is explained as one of the means that American citizens chose to deal with the trauma of 9/11: “[i]mmediately following the attacks and continuing long after, many people have channeled their grief and anger by volunteering, enlisting in the military, founding charities, contributing philanthropic causes, or otherwise helping people in need.” Among other humanitarian options, enlisting in the military to engage in the Global War on Terror is introduced to visitors as a form of mourning which can allow a person to overcome grief and anger. In
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What is important to note here is that many historical facts are distorted, over simplified, and omitted in the displays about the Global War on Terror in “After 9/11.” Although it is a section that concludes the Historical Exhibition, “After 9/11” is not necessarily engaged in historical inquiries. Some examples of these problems can be found in the interpretive panel
“How can America protect its citizens from terrorism,” in “Beyond the Recovery”:
To prevent further attacks, the U.S. government initiated a Global War on Terror,
sending troops to Afghanistan and later to Iraq. One of the objectives was to
undermine terrorism by enabling open, democratic elections in countries governed
by repressive regimes...
Since 9/11, al-Qaeda, other terrorist groups such as ISIS, and rogue individuals
have committed acts of terror around the world. Increased public awareness and
improved counterterrorism strategies have thwarted attempted attacks, but threats
of new attacks persist...
These claims, many of which were made by U.S. administrations at the time, are not historically accurate or well-supported. In the first place, for no apparent reason, Iraq is added to the list of
“them,” despite the fact that it has been historically acknowledged that Saddam Hussein had nothing to do with al-Qaeda. The claim that the Global War on Terror was waged to prevent further terrorist attacks is also misleading. One could invert the logic here. It was the post-9/11
American regime that instigated operations in the Middle East that enabled the so-called terrorist groups to assume power. In particular, this was the case regarding ISIS. An American journalist
“After 9/11,” the war is represented as a solution not just for the U.S. facing terrorism but also for individual American citizens traumatized by 9/11.
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Joby Warrick argues that Abu Musab Al-Zarqawi, the founding father of the organization that would become the Islamic State (IS, also known as ISIS or ISIL) did not appear out of nowhere but used the Iraq War in 2003 to empower himself. Possessing an “undeniable skill as an organizer and a strategist,” Zarqawi took advantage of the two disastrous moves made by the
U.S. government: dissolving the Iraqi Army and banning Ba’ath Party members from positions of authority.51 He organized an army by appealing to tens of thousands of Iraqis who were left out of work and on the streets because of U.S. policies. Furthermore, Zarqawi enlisted former members of Hussein’s military and acquired from them intelligence, funding, and weapons.
Consequently, IS came into existence as a militant group that would subsequently cause global security problems. As exemplified by this case, U.S. military interventions in the Middle East only created a political vacuum in the region, out of which the so-called “terrorists” emerged.
Visitors are, however, told none of these historical realities. Instead, the National September 11
Museum arbitrarily “historicizes” terrorism in a particular manner.
Contradictions associated with the Global War on Terror are also not discussed in “After
9/11.” The National 9/11 Museum remains silent on the ironic tragedy that in a war allegedly fought for freedom, many of those whom America supposedly wanted to save from repressive regimes were killed by U.S. bombings. As Afghan feminist Malalai Joya critically states, “the
U.S.-led, so called war of liberation caused the deaths of many civilians...”52 Neither are a series of America’s human rights violations against detainees in the Abu Ghraib prison in Iraq revealed. Because of this silence, the museum undermines its own stated mission to
51 Joby Warrick, Black Flags: The Rise of ISIS (New York: Anchor Books, 2016), 134. 52Malalai Joya, A Woman Among Warlords: The Extraordinary Story of an Afghan Who Dared to Raise Her Voice (New York: Scribner, 2011), 61. In particular, Joya denounces the U.S. government attempt to sell the invasion of Afghanistan as a humanitarian war to liberate Afghan women while it was “[raining] bombs on our villages in the name of liberating us” (Ibid., 8).
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“[demonstrate] the consequences of terrorism on individual lives and its impact on communities at the local, national and international levels,” as repeated at the end of “After 9/11.” In other words, because the Global War on Terror is contextualized solely at the national level from an
American perspective, how this global war and the consequences of 9/11 have impacted the lives of innocent people in international communities is neglected. Had the museum truly intended to live up to its mission, it would have examined how people in the Middle East have been devastated by the Global War on Terror. After all, these people are the ones who were most directly affected by the war. And yet, the National September 11 Museum chooses to remain silent. Hence, in an ahistorical manner, the museum justifies the Global War on Terror, and shows and tells visitors that the war needs to be continued and supported.
The Follow-Through
After viewing “After 9/11” and exiting from the Historical Exhibition, visitors are invited to explore Foundation Hall where they “will find remnants of the World Trade Center such as the slurry wall and the Last Column as well as interactive digital displays related to memorialization, rescue and recovery efforts, and the ongoing legacy of 9/11.”53 From here, visitors are able to freely walk around the museum. They can view the small exhibits area in which special temporary exhibition are periodically featured. Or, they can walk to the gallery
“Reflecting on 9/11” and “record their own stories, memories, and opinions in three adjacent recording booths.”54 If they want to leave the museum at this time, they can choose to do so. On the way to the exit they are welcome to purchase souvenirs at the museum shop. There is, in other words, no specific route suggested after exiting the Historical Exhibition. And yet, in the
53 “Suggested Pathways” 54 No Day Shall Erase You, 196.
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Foundation Hall, there is one showcase that is strategically placed for all visitors to see, as it is placed close to the exit of the Historical Exhibition.
This showcase is thematically connected to the Global War on Terror. After the war’s logic is repeated in the three sections in the museum’s core exhibition, this showcase explains the success of Operation Neptune Spear, “a global manhunt…for the ringleader of the al-Qaeda terrorist network.” It also reinforces the justification for the war by displaying the following objects: the uniform shirt worn by a U.S. Navy SEAL Six member during the raid on bin
Laden’s safe house in Pakistan; the coins created to commemorate the operation; and a brick chiseled out by journalist Dominic Di-Natale as a souvenir from the foundation of bin Laden’s house.55 Among these objects, an interpretive panel with an account of the Global War on Terror explains:
In a televised speech from the White House on May 1, 2011, U.S. President
Barack Obama delivered the news that Osama bin Laden, the al-Qaeda leader
responsible for the 9/11 attacks, had been killed in a targeted military strike
carried out by U.S. Navy SEALs. Assuring 9/11 victims’ families and the nation
that “justice has been done,” the President also asserted that the fight against al-
Qaeda would continue.
Throughout New York City and Washington, D.C., the streets filled with scenes
of people gathering to mark the successful raid. Many remained concerned about
what bin Laden’s death would mean for global security and world events. These
concerns remain current today, as al-Qaeda and other terrorist networks continue
55 The caption in the museum.
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to plot violent attacks and counterterrorism experts and civilians remain vigilant
to threats around the globe.56
Without questioning the legitimacy of the military operation, this interpretive panel presents the killing of bin Laden, the mastermind behind the events of 9/11, as a legitimate response to the terrorist attacks.57 It frames the killing of bin Laden as an act of justice executed by the U.S. government, and praised and celebrated by many American citizens. In addition, the National
September 11 Museum implies that the continuation of the fight against al-Qaeda is necessary by referring to President Obama’s statement and acknowledging a globally shared anxiety about terrorism around the world. Visitors are thus reminded that bin Laden’s death does not necessarily mean closure, and that terrorist threats are still everywhere and thus the Global War on Terror needs to be continually fought.58
The war on terrorism and its consequences are enacted and reenacted in the National
September 11 Museum (and the larger Ground Zero memorial complex). In commemorating the victims of 9/11 in this place, the terrorist attacks are narrativized to draw a line between “us” and
56 The caption in the museum. 57 Although the Operation Neptune Spear was initiated and carried out by the U.S. government, the U.S. is still not represented as the aggressor in this exhibit case. This is achieved by the consistent use of the passive voice in describing the killing of bin Laden. Instead of saying that the U.S. or American military personnel killed bin Laden, the museum chooses to use the expression that “bin Laden was killed” without clarifying “by whom.” 58 This is one of the major themes that the National September 11 Museum continually pursues. From November 2019 to May 2021, for instance, the special exhibition titled “Revealed: The Hunt for Bin Laden” is held. With newly declassified artifacts and “firsthand accounts from intelligence officers, government officials, law enforcement agents, military leaders, and special operations forces,” the following view is reiterated in this exhibition: “Worldwide, people are living with the daily threat of terrorism. Terrorist organizations such as al-Qaeda and the Islamic State continue to plan attacks globally, with locations ranging from New York City and Paris, France, to Mogadishu, Somalia, and Surabaya, Indonesia. Additionally, lone actors, often motivated by online propaganda, enact their own plots.” See “Revealed: The Hunt for Bin Laden,” https://www.911memorial.org/visit/museum/exhibitions/revealed- hunt-bin-laden (accessed February 28th). Special exhibitions are often introduced to complicate the hegemonic narrative of permanent exhibits by modifying the museums’ messages. And yet, this special exhibition about Bin Laden further reinforces the National September 11 Museum’s approval of the Global War on Terror.
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“them,” to justify the Global War on Terror, and to argue for the continuation of this war. In the museum, the curators/designers developed a narrative arc for visitors to follow which, I argue, validates the Global War on Terror.
Audiovisual Components
The notion that the National September 11 Museum’s exhibits are curated to justify or lead to the Global War on Terror is evidenced not just by the route recreated in this chapter, but also by the official guided tours of the National September 9/11 Museum and Memorial, and the two films “Facing Crisis: America under Attack” and “Facing Crisis: A Changed World.” On the one hand, the guided tours, which are arguably the official stories presented to the public, illustrate how the museum officially interprets the events of 9/11 and discursively attempts to help visitors remember those events. On the other hand, the two films previously mentioned set the thematic tone of the National September 11 Museum for many visitors. Each of the films is
15-minute long and screens every 30 minutes in the auditorium located on a floor above the museum entrance. These films are often the first interpretive program that visitors encounter.
Both the guided tours and the two introductory films reveal how the museum directs its visitors’ to understand the content of exhibits and hence their understanding of 9/11.
The National 9/11 Memorial and Museum offers four official guided tours, including the one specifically exploring the memorial “Reflecting Absence” outside the museum: 1)
“Understanding 9/11” Museum Tour; 2) “Uncommon Courage: First Responders on 9/11”
Museum Tour; 3) “Early Access” Museum Tour; and 4) “Official 9/11 Memorial” Tour.
Participants on the first three tours can explore the museum exhibits for approximately 60 minutes. There is not much difference between the “Understanding 9/11” Museum Tour and the
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“Early Access” Museum Tour except that the latter allows participants to enter the museum before its official opening hour. The early access tour, in other words, enables participants to have the museum space to themselves with a small number of other tour participants rather than viewing the exhibits among large crowds of visitors during the day. The “Uncommon Courage:
First Responders on 9/11” Museum Tour differs from the aforementioned two tours in that it further highlights the courage of first responders, as can be inferred from its name. The
“Understanding 9/11” Museum Tour is the general tour offered all day. The other two museum tours are available only once a day.
All three museum tours follow the identical route from the Ramp to the Memorial Hall to the Center Passage, and to the Foundation Hall, with tour guides recounting an almost identical narrative. They emphasize the violence inflicted upon innocent Americans and through the terrorist attacks by directing visitors’ attention to the impact steel and other crushed objects in the Center Passage. During the tours, the “authenticity” of the National September 11 Museum is also highlighted. By viewing the in-situ remnants, participants are reminded that the museum itself is built on the ruins of the terrorist attacks. In addition, the courage of first responders is praised throughout the tours, along with the reference to American resilience and fortitude.
Participants on the tours are asked to pay close attention to the Last Column and the slurry wall, and their symbolic meanings. Tour guides emphasize the heroism that Americans showed in responding to 9/11. In particular, the fearless response of the passengers on United 93 prevented the intended attack on either Congress or the White House.
In the “Official 9/11 Memorial” Tour, which takes approximately 45 minutes, tour guides offer the basic information about the memorial Reflecting Absence—its size, its structure, and its architect—and lead tour groups around the sunken structure. Inviting participants to touch the
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memorial and the names of victims engraved on it, tour guides stop at places featuring distinguished names and explain how American heroes responded to 9/11. Welles Remy
Crowther, “the man in the red bandanna,” is mentioned, as he is correspondingly featured in the section “Events of the Day” in the Historical Exhibition. Todd Beamer, who was on board the
United 93, is also introduced to participants as an American hero, who started the resistance against the terrorists with the famous call, “Let’s roll!” Furthermore, at the end of the tour, guides identify Betty Ann Ong and Madeline Amy Sweeney, the flight attendants of the
American 11, as the very first responders of the day who transmitted crucial information about the hijackers to authorities.59
Although the term “the Global War on Terror” is not directly mentioned in any of these tours, the war is positively avowed in them. This is most apparent in the “Uncommon Courage:
First Responders on 9/11” Museum Tour. While this tour is identical with the other two museum tours in terms of its route and content, “Uncommon Courage: First Responders on 9/11”
Museum Tour differs in that its participants are encouraged to look at the showcase on the
Operation Neptune Spear when they reach Foundation Hall. Through this exhibit, as pointed out earlier, the National September 11 Museum explains that this military action was a legitimate response to the fight against terrorism. During the tour, the killing of bin Laden is described as the result of the actions of the “last responder(s).” Tour guides use the term “last responder(s)” to
59 As the presence of these flight attendants illustrates, the National September 11 Museum incorporates some female figures. This, however, does not mean that the site is a place where the issue of gender is seriously considered. The stories of female first responders are never used to challenge a masculine portrayal of heroism. In fact, these women are featured precisely because their actions can be likened to the courageous and decisive actions of their male counterparts. Moreover, their inclusion functions as a kind of performance through which the museum represents the diversity of respondents and its intention to be comprehensive (to represent all the facts). Like the annual commemoration ceremony of 9/11 at the Ground Zero memorial complex, the presence of women, people of color, and multigenerational participants, show not only the diversity of American society, but its putative benevolence.
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describe the CIA agent Maya, who spent years searching for bin Laden’s hiding place, and the
Navy SEAL Team Six members who were sent to Pakistan to assassinate him. By using these terms, the military personnel are presented as the counterparts to the heroic “first responders,” the fire fighters and police officers. Praising not only the first responders but also military personnel as American heroes, the tour guides present the Global War on Terror as a direct response to the events of 9/11, and thus as necessarily defensive and strategic.60
Regarding the war, the two films “Facing Crisis: America under Attack” and “Facing
Crisis: A Changed World” are more explicitly didactic and propagandistic, compared to the guided tours. In the former film, key 9/11 decision makers, including Secretary of State
Condoleezza Rice, New York Governor George Pataki, New York City Mayor Rudolph
Giuliani, and others, narrate the events of 9/11. The latter film shows world “leaders” such as
British Prime Minister Tony Blair, and Pakistani President Pervez Musharraf, reflecting on the terrorist attacks. Both films also feature interviews with President George W. Bush. There is nothing offered to contextualize, much less criticize their accounts. Instead, the films follow these politicians as they emotionally recount their 9/11 experiences one after another.
Consequently, the terrorist attacks and the post-9/11world are sympathetically portrayed from these politicians’ viewpoints, and altogether they “sanctify” the Global War on Terror.
In two of the films, Bush’s famous declaration that “Either you are with us or you are with the terrorists,” when he publicly announced the start of the war, becomes a central theme
60 The tours reinforce the logic of “us” and “them,” the binary opposition supporting the Global War on Terror. When the tours reach the Memorial Hall, tour guides point at the Remains Repository located behind the mosaic artwork “Trying to Remember the Color of the Sky on That September Morning.” In front of the artwork tour guides explain that the museum is the resting place for many victims who are yet to be identified, They also inform visitors that the never-ending effort to identify every single one of the victims is still in process. As discussed in Chapter 1, this care for the dead underscores the contrast between “us” and “them”: “we” cherish the value of life, unlike “those terrorists” who killed ordinary citizens.
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and is echoed by other politicians.61 Musharraf, for instance, painstakingly distinguishes Pakistan from the Taliban, the regime (believed to be) providing a safe haven for al-Qaeda: “The first decision was about Taliban. Whether this was, an action to be taken against Taliban. So, is
Taliban and their talks on Islam, Talibanization, was that in favor of Pakistan. We’ll be for
Taliban and Talibanization? My answer was no, not at all.”62 He responds to Bush’s call and places Pakistan on the side of “us”/the U.S. in dealing with terrorism. Defining 9/11 as an act of war “meant to go after the centers of American power,” then Secretary of State Rice also supports Bush’s understanding of 9/11 and calls for resolute action.63 She explicitly frames it as a fight to offer the gift of freedom to people “deprived for too long of decency in their lives, or freedom in their lives, of the expectation that they somehow control their lives” in the Middle
East.64 Without this kind of resolute action, then British Prime Minister Blair argues, “us” will keep being threatened because “the terrorists had killed 3,000 people that day, but if they could’ve killed 30,000 and 300,000, they would’ve.”65 Both Rice and Blair emphasize Bush’s statement that “human conditions abroad matters to our national security at home.”66 Together with Bush, they support American policies to “end tyranny as we see it” under the pretext of
61 In the other film “Facing Crisis: America under Attack,” al-Qaeda/bin Laden is explicitly named as the enemy-other, while American political “leaders” narrate how they were shocked by yet promptly reacted to the “extraordinary” terrorist attacks. 62 “Facing Crisis: A Changed World.” 63 Ibid. 64 Ibid. Rice condemns 9/11 in the following manner: “After 9/11, we said, ‘there really is no justification for the taking of lives of the innocence in the name of any political religious, or social cause’” without problematizing what the U.S. has been up to.” She never mentions the fact that the U.S. military endeavor for freedom has been taking the lives of many innocent in the name of freedom. As such, the contradictory nature of the Global War on Terror is once again silenced. 65 Ibid. 66 Let us once again turn to Nguyen’s argument in Gift of Freedom. While examining the formation of the U.S. as a liberal empire, in Gift of Freedom, she points out that “[i]n the first half of the twentieth century, the freedom-loving peoples of the world determined that their own self-interest and security were best served by distant others’ having the benefit of freedom” (36). Quoted Bush’s saying clearly places him in the genealogy of those freedom-loving peoples.
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establishing “decent, responsible states that would be democratic, that would have the possibility to delivery for their people, and that could defend themselves.”67
As such, in both the guided tours and the films, the U.S. government’s rationale for the
Global War on Terror is continuously repeated and sanctioned. Through these tours and films, the museum presents the war as a just war fought for national security and freedom in a world divided between “us” and “them.” The guided tours and the films, in other words, reveal that the
National September 11 Museum accepts the necessity of the Global War on Terror and uses the war’s politics as the museum’s guiding interpretive framework.
Conclusion
The National September 11 Museum exhibits conclude with a remark by Joe Bradley, an operations engineer, uttered on the last day of the recovery mission at Ground Zero in 2002: “We came in as individuals. And we’ll walk out together.”68 Written on the wall at the foot of the escalator leading up to the ground level and to the museum’s exit, this quotation suggests that after walking through exhibits, visitors who come with their individual opinions on the terrorist attacks will also leave the museum as people bounded together in solidarity.
Arguably, one point of solidarity is support for the Global War on Terror. As has been discussed so far, in the National September 11 Museum visitors follow a narrative route that leads to war. Through the “commemoration” of the victims of 9/11 and the “historical” narrative of 9/11, the creation of a binary opposition between innocent American citizens (or the U.S.) and the evil enemy-other (or Muslims) is established, and the Global War on Terror is affirmed. In so
67 “Facing Crisis: A Changed World” 68 The caption in the museum.
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doing, the museum encourages visitors to subscribe to the logic of the war. Through guided tours, films, and exhibits, visitors are repeatedly shown and told that “we” were attacked by
“them” and “we” are still in danger of being attacked again by “them;” thus, we need to continuously take action, including military force, against “them.” As such, the National
September 11 Museum is meant to implicate visitors in the Global War on Terror by affecting the ways they remember 9/11.
The effect of the museum experience should not be underestimated. Attracting millions of visitors since its inception, the museum is, in multiple ways, interpellating them to become patriotic citizens or supporters of U.S. global wars.69 In other words, standing in the midst of
Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan, the National September 11 Museum is fighting an interpretive war ostensibly for freedom in the name of the U.S., in the time of the Global War on Terror.
69 More than 40 million people have visited the museum since its opening in May, 2014. “2018 Annual Report,” http://2018.911memorial.org/.
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Chapter 4
Encoding, Decoding: Visitor Experiences at the Ground Zero Memorial Complex
No modern nation possesses a given ‘ethnic’ basis…The fundamental problem is therefore to produce the people. More exactly, it is to make the people produce itself continually as national community. Or again, it is to produce the effect of unity by virtue of which the people will appear, in everyone’s eyes, ‘as a people,’ that is, as the basis and origin of political power.1 —Étienne Balibar, Race, Nation, Class, 1991
Emotions provide a script, certainly: you become the ‘you’ if you accept the invitation to align yourself with the nation, and against those others who threaten to take the nation away2 —Sara Ahmed, Cultural Politics of Emotions, 2014
Introduction
Ernest Renan delivered a famous address later known as “What Is a Nation” when France was defeated in the Franco-Prussia War in 1871. Arguing that “suffering in common unites more than joy does” or that “grief is of more value than triumphs” in making people vigorously engage in warfare, Renan agitated his fellow French citizens to regain Alsace-Lorraine, the territorial right of which was lost to Germany because of the war.3 If Renan’s formulation of loss as social capital is correct, the annual commemoration ceremony of 9/11 performed against the background of the Ground Zero memorial complex is arguably a national event that helps to perpetuate the Global War on Terror. Through the tributes to the American victims made by the bodily presence of their family members, the following view is formulated and validated simultaneously: Americans, and by extension, the U.S., were injured and are injurable. Hence,
1 Étienne Balibar and Immanuel Wallerstein, Race, Nation, Class: Ambiguous Identities (Verso: New York, 1991), 93-4. 2 Ahmed, Cultural Politics of Emotions, 12. 3 Ernest Renan, What Is a Nation? and Other Political Writings (Trans. M.F.N. Giglioli, New York: Columbia University Press, 2018), 261.
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the American audience is potentially made to feel that “we” need to fight back, and the war is a series of legitimate “counterattacks” to minimize the vulnerability of the U.S. This ceremony, which is when and where the losses of the American victims of 9/11 are officially commemorated by American citizens, helps fuel the Global War on Terror.4
Reactions to the annual commemoration ceremony streamed online, however, vary from person to person. While many of the viewers express condolences, there are, for instance, those who make comments to critically—and sarcastically—reflect upon American history:
Kwum aix: Black 9/11 happening every fkig day in amerikkka for 400 yrs..miss
me with this BS.5
Huh: It was justified karma so get over it already. It wouldn’t have happened if
the country didn’t have a habit of creating it’s [sic] own enemies to begin with.6
4 In the context of 9/11, the experience of loss as social capital was—other than at the annual commemoration ceremony—also demonstrated in the following scene capturing the interactions between then-President George W. Bush and rescue workers at Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan in the immediate aftermath of 9/11: President Bush: Thank you all. I want you all to know—it [bullhorn] can’t go any louder—I want you all to know that America today, America today is on bended knee, in prayer for the people whose lives were lost here, for the workers who work here, for the families who mourn. The nation stands with the good people of New York City and New Jersey and Connecticut as we mourn the loss of thousands of our citizens. / Rescue Worker: I can’t hear you! / President Bush: I can hear you! I can hear you! The rest of the world hears you! And the people—and the people who knocked these buildings down will hear all of us soon! / Rescue Workers: [Chanting] U.S.A.! U.S.A.! U.S.A.! U.S.A.! U.S.A.! U.S.A.! U.S.A.! U.S.A.! / President Bush: The nation, the nation sends its love and compassion— / Rescue Worker: God bless America! / President Bush: —to everybody who is here. Thank you for your hard work. Thank you for makin’ the nation proud, and may God bless America. / Rescue Workers: [Chanting] U.S.A.! U.S.A.! U.S.A.! U.S.A.! [Bullhorn Address to Ground Zero Rescue Workers delivered 14 September 2001, NYC, New York, see https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=17&v=x7OCgMPX2mE&feature=emb_logo (accessed February 28th)]. By emphasizing that grief was uniting good American people with each other as a nation, Bush sought for a resolution through violence by declaring that “we” as a nation would come after the enemy-others of the U.S. had been eliminated. 5 “9/11 Memorial and Museum Ceremony 2019, Live Stream,” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L2nPT1J3wZQ (accessed February 28th). 6 “World Trade Center 9/11 Memorial Ceremony,” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nz8McJ57n- k&t=4s (accessed February 28th).
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Tenzin Tsering: Americans are crying about 911 �. What about all the innocent
Muslim lives America took?7
Every September 11, I remember that day, I thought I lost my grandmother; and
my mother told me she was fine. The entire nation was gripped by fear, god bless
the families of the first-responders, who did lose family members. Our govt
deceived a fearful public, and used the anger to plunge our armed service men &
women into senseless wars we're still in today. We must reopen this case and
solve what hindsight makes more clear [sic].8
In contrast, and perhaps more expected, there are those who become agitated and even war- minded by this commemorative performance:
Diana Wolf Torres: I remember this as a moment that brought us all together as a
nation.9
Stream Dream: On that fateful morning, the whole world stopped and was
somehow united in horror or grief, because everyone knows exactly what they
were doing that day and with that bond created a wall of togetherness,
determination and unbreakable strength that no terrorist or bomb can break.10
7 Ibid. 8 “9/11 Memorial and Museum Ceremony 2019, Live Stream.” 9 “9/11 Memorial Ceremony in New York—September 11th, 2018,” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IYoSGv5WeW4 (accessed February 28th). 10 “18th Anniversary of the 9/11 Terrorist Attacks: USA Today,” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BDdEsnwxajc (accessed February 28th).
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The Ghost of Patrick Henry: Let it be known, that if any person or group of
persons so chooses [sic] to inflict death and destruction against the free people of
the United States of America we will not forget. We will hunt you until the end of
time, no matter how far you run, and bring you to Justice or send you to the
creator. God Bless America and all who have perished, our spirit remains
unbroken.11
DatBlueBoi: We have never given up after 9/11 because us Americans are strong
and we will always fight back until the end. May they Rest In [sic] Peace