NEW YORK--Hours after Homeland Security chief Tom Ridge raised the
colour-coded terror alert, tourists sat in front of the K-9 dogs
and machine gun-toting police guarding a flag-draped New York Stock
Exchange, ready to capture any developing emergency.
Cameras ablaze, visitors from France, Japan and Idaho were
poised to bring friends and family back home images of the latest
trend dominating American life this election year:the rapid rise of
a new American national security culture.
Joining them before the marble cathedral of global capitalism
was a motley gathering of New Yorkers there to both proselytise and
sell souvenirs not far from Ground Zero.
The scene that unfolded was a combination of bazaar, religious
revival and political protest.
"We know that we are in fact living in the last days," says
Elder Kelly, a tall, blond 20-something member of the Church of
Latter Day Saints.
In the hopes of preparing lost souls for the end of history
prophesied in the Catholic, evangelical and Mormon bibles - and in
pamphlets circulating around the Exchange, as well as in
best-selling novels - a smiling elder Kelly adds, "We're here to
let people know that they have to get ready for that.
We have to hope for the best, but prepare for the worst.
People need to realize that they have to get right with
God."
Having just returned from the security fences and political
platforms of the Democratic National Convention in Boston, it seems
to me that the pursuit of "infinite justice" and "enduring freedom"
would continue in some form - Republican, Democratic, apocalyptic -
for the foreseeable future.
New Yorkers seem once again caught in the thick of a cloud of
insecurity.
Mike, an electrician and self-described "citizen of the city of
New York," holds a cardboard sign before the SWAT-suited NYPD
officers.
The sign, painted in lipstick ("You can't buy markers anymore
because it's considered a 'graffiti instrument,'" he says), reads,
"Bill of Rights Under Attack, Repeal the Patriot Act."
While his colleagues yell, "Give the permanent war to your
children and grandchildren!" Mike tells me that Secretary Ridge and
the Bush administration are "trying to build an anti-terrorism
police state."
A bearded Jewish man standing in the curious crowd behind us
listens silently as a pony-tailed man in shorts debates points with
Mike.
I wonder what the yarmulked man thinks when politicians and
police chiefs tell us "we need to learn from Israel."
I ask him.
"Let's leave that issue alone," he says.
The crowd moves on to the bright lights and bulky cameras of
live-broadcast interviews conducted a few feet away by a financial
news reporter for CNBC.
With cameras targeting the machine gun-toting police standing
beneath a colossal Old Glory, the reporter ends by saying that
today's increased security is "just another fact of life."
With lights and cameras off, she climbs onto a director's chair
towering over the dispersing crowd and tells her crew that the
scene had "a bit of a circus atmosphere."
But who is responsible for the facts, and who is directing the
circus? In search of an answer, I walk to Ground Zero, a few blocks
away.
There, in front of the still-empty centre of our culture and
politics, I find several members of Ladder Company #10 huddled in
front of a shiny, new red fire truck emblazoned with American
flags.
I approach one of the firemen to see how the renewed terror
alert affects his crew.
Before I can ask, he somberly closes the sliding door of the
still relatively new station.
On the wall I notice a bronze plaque with pictures of firemen
standing before a New York skyline that includes the World Trade
Centre and the statue of Liberty.
As a member of the media, I realize, I too may enhance and
reproduce the spectacle of our nation's response to the threat of
terror.
Looking at pictures of the charred and crumbling firehouse #10
taken on Sept.
11, 2001, I regret disturbing the privacy of people saturated
daily with military guards, orange alerts and media-amplified calls
for vigilance.
Yet, unless we unravel the complexities of this ascendant
culture of fear and militarism, all of us run the risk of being
perpetually disturbed in times of perpetual war.
* PNS contributor Roberto Lovato (robvato63@yahoo.com) is a Los
Angeles-based freelance writer.
Cameras ablaze, visitors from France, Japan and Idaho were poised
to bring friends and family back home images of the latest trend
dominating American life this election year:the rapid rise of a new
American national security culture.Joining them before the marble
cathedral of global capitalism was a motley gathering of New
Yorkers there to both proselytise and sell souvenirs not far from
Ground Zero.The scene that unfolded was a combination of bazaar,
religious revival and political protest."We know that we are in
fact living in the last days," says Elder Kelly, a tall, blond
20-something member of the Church of Latter Day Saints.In the hopes
of preparing lost souls for the end of history prophesied in the
Catholic, evangelical and Mormon bibles - and in pamphlets
circulating around the Exchange, as well as in best-selling novels
- a smiling elder Kelly adds, "We're here to let people know that
they have to get ready for that.We have to hope for the best, but
prepare for the worst.People need to realize that they have to get
right with God."Having just returned from the security fences and
political platforms of the Democratic National Convention in
Boston, it seems to me that the pursuit of "infinite justice" and
"enduring freedom" would continue in some form - Republican,
Democratic, apocalyptic - for the foreseeable future.New Yorkers
seem once again caught in the thick of a cloud of insecurity.Mike,
an electrician and self-described "citizen of the city of New
York," holds a cardboard sign before the SWAT-suited NYPD
officers.The sign, painted in lipstick ("You can't buy markers
anymore because it's considered a 'graffiti instrument,'" he says),
reads, "Bill of Rights Under Attack, Repeal the Patriot Act."While
his colleagues yell, "Give the permanent war to your children and
grandchildren!" Mike tells me that Secretary Ridge and the Bush
administration are "trying to build an anti-terrorism police
state."A bearded Jewish man standing in the curious crowd behind us
listens silently as a pony-tailed man in shorts debates points with
Mike.I wonder what the yarmulked man thinks when politicians and
police chiefs tell us "we need to learn from Israel."I ask
him."Let's leave that issue alone," he says.The crowd moves on to
the bright lights and bulky cameras of live-broadcast interviews
conducted a few feet away by a financial news reporter for
CNBC.With cameras targeting the machine gun-toting police standing
beneath a colossal Old Glory, the reporter ends by saying that
today's increased security is "just another fact of life."With
lights and cameras off, she climbs onto a director's chair towering
over the dispersing crowd and tells her crew that the scene had "a
bit of a circus atmosphere."But who is responsible for the facts,
and who is directing the circus? In search of an answer, I walk to
Ground Zero, a few blocks away.There, in front of the still-empty
centre of our culture and politics, I find several members of
Ladder Company #10 huddled in front of a shiny, new red fire truck
emblazoned with American flags.I approach one of the firemen to see
how the renewed terror alert affects his crew.Before I can ask, he
somberly closes the sliding door of the still relatively new
station.On the wall I notice a bronze plaque with pictures of
firemen standing before a New York skyline that includes the World
Trade Centre and the statue of Liberty.As a member of the media, I
realize, I too may enhance and reproduce the spectacle of our
nation's response to the threat of terror.Looking at pictures of
the charred and crumbling firehouse #10 taken on Sept.11, 2001, I
regret disturbing the privacy of people saturated daily with
military guards, orange alerts and media-amplified calls for
vigilance.Yet, unless we unravel the complexities of this ascendant
culture of fear and militarism, all of us run the risk of being
perpetually disturbed in times of perpetual war.* PNS contributor
Roberto Lovato (robvato63@yahoo.com) is a Los Angeles-based
freelance writer.