Twenty-four years ago this week, an American Airlines jet exploded into the World Trade Center’s North Tower, billowing thick smoke into a pristine New York sky.
A few days later, after one of the most trying events in American history, and not even a year removed from the contentious 2000 election, President George W. Bush stood atop the rubble. Bullhorn to his lips, he rallied Americans against a common enemy, telling a rattled nation that the people who knocked down the towers would hear from Americans soon.
Fraught as the ensuing military action may have turned out to be, we did largely come together in that moment, with Pew Research showing Americans united in patriotism and grief.
But in case we needed any reminder of how much that unity has eroded in the decades since, this week’s 9/11 remembrance ceremonies sat in the shadow of the prior day’s news: The murder of 31-year-old conservative activist Charlie Kirk.
While the motivation behind this reprehensible act is still being determined, we do know that scholarship points to Americans being more polarized now than at any time since the Civil War. And, sadly, we’ve seen political violence become routine, as figures ranging from Nancy Pelosi to Donald Trump, and from Minnesota state lawmakers to Supreme Court justices being targeted.
Fueling all of this is the extreme rhetoric that pervades our discourse. Even in the immediate aftermath of Kirk’s death, dialogue, especially on social media, devolved into finger pointing and familiar partisan division.
But then, the next day, 9/11 ceremonies held across the country reminded us of what’s possible.
During a September 11 commemoration in Plattsburgh, where alumni were among the victims, campus Police Chief Patrick Rascoe became emotional as he recalled the myriad types of heroism that day.
“I saw my fellow officers, firefighters and everyday citizens running towards danger and into those buildings even as they began to collapse. Over the days that followed we saw courage, kindness and a nation that came together. Something so horrible that changed our lives forever also caused us to love one another.”
After a week of violence that included not just Kirk’s killing but also yet another school shooting, we could use some love. And we desperately need to come together.
Maybe, then, it’s worth remembering that nearly a quarter century after 9/11, we still have a potent common enemy. No, not terrorists hiding in caves, though such a threat no doubt looms, and not even nuclear bomb-equipped adversaries.
No, the common enemy that puts us at as much risk for domestic terrorism as for international extremism is rhetoric that pulls us apart.
Pew Research shows that division is one of the most common words Americans use to describe our political discourse. And Gallup polling has found a record-high 80% of U.S. adults believe Americans are greatly divided on the most important values.
But that means even if we are divided on so much, we are in agreement about how divided we actually are.
So, as Utah Republican Governor Spencer Cox has said, it’s time to disagree better.
It’s time for civil discussions instead of uncivilized name calling. It’s time to call out hateful language rather than spew it.
Time to see those we disagree with not as foes but as fellow Americans.
Maybe that’s idealistic, but given the violence now regularly fomented by vile and incendiary speech, it seems a potent foe, the kind of enemy that should be able to galvanize a nation.
At a 9/11 event in Westchester County, Imam Shafieq Chase said peace can be the greatest weapon.
“The best weapon that we have is not the weapon that can actually take the life of someone. But the best of weapon we have is all of us – Muslims, Jews, Christians – in this space lifting our hands to the All Mighty, praying to him to bring peace and unity in this divisive world.”
Trying as this week was, we can emerge from the wreckage, even in such divided times. If we knock down the walls we put up between us, if we clear the black clouds that seem to mar so much, we can still find blue skies.