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According to newspaper reports, Bloomberg made the major decisions himself. Criticism of the mayor's plans has been muted, since everyone understands the delicacy and difficulty of orchestrating the commemoration. Certainly no one will disparage the ceremony afterwards; even if the event in New York turns out to be tacky and tasteless, we'll read articles the next day about the solemnity of the occasion, and how it was cathartic for some of the victims' families while it was too painful for others.
The little criticism so far has centered on the mayor's decision to incorporate readings from historical texts into the commemoration. New York Governor George Pataki will read the Gettysburg Address, New Jersey Governor Jim McGreevey will read selections from the Declaration of Independence, and Bloomberg will read FDR's comments about the "Four Freedoms." It's easy to find fault with those selections. Parts of Lincoln's speech at Gettysburg, the greatest example of American oratory, are unpleasantly inappropriate. Lincoln spoke at a dedication ceremony in honor of soldiers who "gave the last full measure of devotion" to a "great task" — not innocent civilians slaughtered in a sneak attack. The Declaration of Independence, that glorious document from America's Founding, is about the schism between America and Britain. We'll probably only hear snippets of the Declaration, out of context, as we have come to expect. Franklin Roosevelt's "Four Freedoms" comments are excerpted from the conclusion of his annual address to Congress in 1941. The four freedoms are freedoms of expression and religion, and freedoms from want and fear. For liberals, the "freedom from want" has lately transmogrified into a "right" — the right "to have adequate food and health care" that Jimmy Carter frequently talks about. And the "freedom from fear," as FDR defined it, has always been a fantasy: "a world-wide reduction of armaments to such a point and in such a thorough fashion that no nation will be in a position to commit an act of physical aggression against any neighbor — anywhere in the world." Everything else included in Bloomberg's plan is uncontroversial. There will be a moment of silence. Former Mayor Rudy Giuliani and others will read aloud the names of the dead. Taps, bells, roses, and a new eternal flame will be followed by concerts and candlelight vigils. The only other criticism of the mayor's plan is of what isn't included: original speeches by our country's leaders. One columnist has written that we shouldn't rely on "borrowed words from other times" since the event "demands its own eloquence." A letter to the New York Times argued that "our elected officials have both the right and the responsibility to speak for the citizenry at times like this." Certainly, the mayor's reason for excluding original speeches — he hopes to minimize partisanship — is preposterous. Is he worried that our government officials might end their speeches with, "By the way, if you want to prevent this sort of atrocity in the future, vote for my party in November!" or some other tactless appeal to faction? Although he will not be speaking in New York on September 11, President Bush will visit Ground Zero — as well as the Pentagon and the Pennsylvania crash site — before addressing the nation on television. Columnist Marsha Mercer, who says the president is "trying to be everywhere at once," favors an undemonstrative anniversary. She joins the ranks of those writers, like NRO's John Derbyshire, who have suggested that the best attitude for September 11, 2002 is one of defiant normality. According to Mercer, "The Sept. 11 terrorist attacks are often compared to Pearl Harbor, but the country marked the first anniversary of that attack with restraint." Mercer even quotes an archivist at the FDR Library who told her that "there wasn't any tradition of anniversaries" in the 1940s and claims that "they didn't mark three months and six months and a year after events." All that's needed to prove Mercer wrong is a glance at the front pages of American newspapers published one year after Pearl Harbor. Although President Roosevelt spent that first anniversary quietly conducting routine business in the White House, the rest of the country marked the occasion with commemorations and remembrances, rallies and parades, pomp and circumstance. In Brooklyn, a parade on December 6, 1942 brought out "ten thousand men, women and children," along with "bands, delegations of fire and air wardens, American Red Cross units and other auxiliary services," according to the New York Times. This was followed by more parades and fundraisers the next day, including a "war bond luncheon" sponsored by the motion picture industry. On the night of December 7, 1942, the New York Philharmonic commemorated the attack — as well as the Phil's own 100th birthday — with a concert for sailors aboard USS Prairie State. According to the Chicago Tribune, 13,000 Chicagoans gathered for their city's official ceremony. In addition to rousing patriotic music from the Chicago Symphony Orchestra and other performers, the Chicago commemoration included several army and navy officers and "two flying heroes who were decorated as part of the program." Also, "Mrs. Barbara Ann Clark, 21 years old, of Detroit, won the title of 'Miss Victory' in a contest." The official ceremony in Los Angeles started with "the hauntingly sweet strains of 'Taps,' the fighting man's requiem, played by a Navy bugle corps." This was followed by a moment of silence, then a series of speeches. During the course of the day, fully 50,000 people visited a Japanese submarine, captured at Pearl Harbor, that was on exhibit in L.A. — "a ghastly monument to the bloodshed on the day she crept with other Jap craft for the stab in the back at Pearl Harbor," according to the Los Angeles Times. An aerial parade of military planes soared overhead. The city also held a realistic air raid drill, in which a mock village was attacked and evacuated before being burned to the ground. In Philadelphia, a crowd of 20,000 gathered to see the launching of a huge new battleship — USS New Jersey, one-sixth of a mile in length. On the same day, there were 25 other new ships launched around the country, mostly Navy vessels. A few of the craft launched on the anniversary were nicknamed "Pearl Harbor Avengers." So many men thronged Philadelphia's Army- and Navy-recruitment centers "to enlist for a fighting chance to avenge Pearl Harbor" that the street traffic snarled for blocks, according to the Philadelphia Inquirer. Thousands of would-be recruits were turned away because of recent age restrictions. One sorry fellow sold his home, quit his job and "geared all his private affairs to a Pearl Harbor Day enlistment," only to be turned away. Other cities also saw enlistment spikes on the anniversary. Students across America were in school on the first anniversary of Pearl Harbor, just as they will be on September 11 this year. Unlike this year's controversy about how teachers should discuss the terrorist attacks, there was no question in 1942 about how Pearl Harbor should be taught. According to the New York Times, the superintendent of New York's schools personally directed the city's classroom work, "so that on the first anniversary of this day of hallowed remembrance we may stand for a moment in meditation on the courage and sacrifice of those who now, on land, at sea and in the air, hold aloft the flag of the United States of America." In colleges, ROTC cadets held special name-reading ceremonies. High schools held rallies and brought in guest speakers. For younger students there were flag dedications and fundraisers. According to the Los Angeles Times, the Hollywood Boys' Club "contributed pennies toward the purchase of a jeep for the Army." Small towns across the U.S. saw blood drives, parades, rallies, and speeches (religious and secular) on the first anniversary of Pearl Harbor. Businesses got involved, too, sponsoring commemorative events and buying special ads — like the full-page ad Hecht's bought in the Washington Post: a huge picture of a falling bomb, with the slogan "Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition." Other countries marked the anniversary, too. Winston Churchill spoke in remembrance of Japan's attacks in the Pacific, promising that Japan would be "stripped of her conquests, punished for her treachery, and deprived of her powers of evil." Several countries in Latin America held sympathetic observances, like Argentina, which set aside the anniversary as a day of "homage to Roosevelt." Clearly, there are enormous differences between 1942 and 2002. The country was much more mobilized and martial back then, with reports of dozens of dead soldiers in every daily newspaper. Also, Pearl Harbor was an attack by a bragging country against a military outpost — not an attack by shadowy terrorists against civilians. Those differences will be reflected in our commemorations for September 11. Whatever the differences though, our public ceremonies next week — like those of our countrymen six decades ago — will show our grief for the innocent victims, our anger at the savage killers, and our trust in America's ultimate victory. — Adam Keiper is the president of the Center for the Study of Technology and Society. |
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was a grim and unenviable task that faced New York City's Mayor Bloomberg:
How best to commemorate last year's terrorist attack on its first anniversary.
