Special 9/11 Issue

It was five years ago that life changed for America. Despite many previous attacks on US targets (notably American Embassies in Africa and South America), 9/11 brought terror home to many Americans in a new and very frightening way.

As the news broke here, Gill called and told me to turn on the TV. At first, I thought it was a dreadful aviation accident. But as I watched, the second jet slammed into the second tower, and I knew. It was shuk hacarmel. It was Sbarro's. It was haDolphinarium. It was yet another Egged bus. It was every suicide bombing that we have had to deal with these many years. Bigger. More sensational. But the smoke, the horror, and the human suffering were all painfully familiar.

Within an hour, two sets of dramatic and spontaneous demonstrations were unfolding:

In the Palestinian Authority, people took to the streets, dancing, singing, firing automatic weapons into the air, burning US flags, and tossing candies to children. It was a party. This celebration was, in fact, replicated all over the Arab world.

In Israel, quiet crowds gathered at the US Embassy in Tel Aviv, at the US Consul in Haifa, and at kikar rabin (the place where Rabin was assassinated, and which is often a gathering spot for demonstrations). These people came with flowers, candles, and prayers. Some carried small US flags. Some wept. Some recited kaddish. City officials all over the country, without waiting for any official directive, lowered flags to half mast.

It is an image that has stayed with me.

When you travel the world, don't just think about which countries conduct trade with the US, or allow US military bases within their borders, or sign agreements to get US aid. Instead, consider what the average people of that country feel when they think of America or 9/11. And know that here, independent of current administrations and politics, we are friends.

And today we join with you in mourning.