Introduction

On September 11, 2001, the vulnerability of the United States was exposed. Four commercial airliners were hijacked by a group of 19 Al-Qaeda terrorists and used to wage destruction on the United States. Two airliners crashed into the World Trade Center in New York City, killing over 4,000 people; one airliner crashed into the Pentagon in Washington DC, killing over 120 people; and a fourth plane was diverted and crashed into a rural field in Pennsylvania, killing all passengers on board the plane. The scale of the attack, given that it was on continental United States soil, was on the likes of which our country's history hasn't seen. It was on that day that the United States, and all of the countries around the world, realized that the so-called "World Superpower" moniker was not a strong enough shield from being attack. It was on that day, that seemingly all Americans, no matter their racial, ethnic, gendered, or political differences resolved to come together and defeat (or, more fittingly, annihilate) the terrorists who sought to humiliate their country.

At the same time, however, September 11 acted as a surreal moment. Because we as a country had never witnessed any violence so gruesome, or close to our hearts, or utterly shocking, that we were left with the all-important question of how to respond to these attacks. We all knew that we had to respond, but what was the response going to be? Our first task, right at the moment of impact, so to speak, was to figure out who perpetrated this violence on us. We soon discovered that the hijackers were members of a Middle East terror network known as al-Qaeda, led by the ever so elusive and ever so calculating Osama Bin Laden. Then, our next task was to figure out--- How do we respond to this terror? Eventually, President George W. Bush promised to the American people he was elected to protect that he was going to wage a global "War on Terror", in all the vagueness and ambiguity of the phrase. There was no justification or explanation, we thought, for what these terrorists perpetrated on our country. We just wanted to get the terrorists. More than an eye for an eye, it seemed we wanted our response to be a life for an eye.

Thus, in our response, as feminist Judith Butler writes , a natural question arises: "Why do they hate us so much?" (Butler 57). It is a question on the minds of us all, yet any explanation one seeks to provide to this answer, is sought as an exoneration of the acts of terror themselves, rather than a mere explanation of the context of this particular question. Hence the title of Butler's article "Explanation and Exoneration or What We Can Hear". It seems that by attempting to explain certain horrific acts, and what factors may have led to these acts being perpetrated, we are legitimizing the acts of terror as justifiable. Yet the force and the power behind our response to these acts of terror, rests upon our belief that these acts were in fact unjustifiable, illegitimate, and thus we are compelled to go after the perpetrators with all the military might we could muster. But, as Butler explains, we do not have to equate explanation with exoneration. Unfortunately, our inability to distinguish these two terms prevents any serious discussion, and any serious inquiry into the answer "Why do they hate us so much?" Butler writes, " The cry that 'there is no excuse for September 11' has become a means by which to stifle any serious public discussion of how U.S. foreign policy has helped to create a world in which such acts of terror are possible." In other words, Butler seems to imply, that our response to the September 11 attacks seems to be more of an act of treating the symptoms rather than curing the illness. It seems that in our response we are treating only what we can see or hear within our own first-person perspective, when the real problem lies in the perspective that the second and third-person narratives can provide for us.

Thus, Butler argues in the article, we must take ourselves out of the first-person narrative; we must "de-center" ourselves, in a sense, and stop acting like we are the dominant character in the global narrative. We must remember, as we were told when we were children and young adults, that the world does not revolve around us. Thus, in the article, Butler seeks to explain how our reading of the global narrative shifts when we step outside of ourselves and read it from a different perspective, and in that context, seeks to at least provide the forum for a serious public discussion as to our response to terrorism. In this paper, I will outline Butler's argument for an alternative perspective, and examine how she believes the U.S. can constructively respond to the wound it suffered in the violence of September 11.

Language and Violence

A key element in the United States perspective is a linguistic one. Our response, and our attitudes about our "opponents", rely upon our use of certain terms, and our ideas of what certain terms mean. For example, Butler writes, " We reserve "acts of terror" for events such as the September 11, 2001, attacks on the U.S., distinguishing these acts of violence from those that might be justified through foreign policy decisions or public declarations of war." As our "opponents” (for example, Osama bin Laden) have explained, a significant reason behind his and others hatred for America is the United States' insistence on perpetrating violence and terrorism in the Middle East. As Americans, this explanation strikes us as ludicrous. Al-Qaeda is a group of terrorists; we are merely trying to defend our country. But an important question remains: If Al-Qaeda claims to be defending itself against American violence and terrorism, and we also have a claim to defense, then who is right? In the context of Butler's explanation, we solve this paradox by referring to Al-Qaeda's acts as "acts of terror", while we refer to our own actions as justified by war. As I mentioned earlier, the force of our response is that we are using legitimate acts of violent self-defense (a "declaration of war") to defend against illegitimate acts (terrorism). If we do not see our actions as such, then we seem to be implicating ourselves, which in effect legitimizes the supposed "illegitimate" acts of groups like Al-Qaeda. Butler adds,

"In the meantime, there is ambiguity introduced by the very use of the term 'terrorist', which is then exploited by various powers at war with independence movements of various kinds. The term 'terrorist' is used, for instance, by the Israeli state to describe any and all Palestinian acts of violence, but none of its own... The U.S., by using the term, positions itself exclusively as the sudden and indisputable victim of violence, and there is no doubt that it has suffered violence, terrible violence" (Butler 58)

Thus, it seems, as Butler argues, that we position the meanings of certain terms to fit our own agenda, to position ourselves as the “victim”. Meanwhile, to an outside observer, this might seem like a case of a double-standard. We are, as Butler writes, creating a frame for understanding violence, which

"precludes certain kinds of questions, certain kinds of historical inquiries, and to function as a moral justification of retaliation. It seems crucial to attend to this frame, since it decides, in a forceful way, what we can hear, whether a view will be taken as an explanation or as an exoneration, whether we can hear the difference, and abide by it" (Butler 58).

The De-centering of the First-Person Narrative

Thus, Butler argues, we must step out of this frame for a while, and perhaps view the event of September 11 through a different frame. We tend to start the narrative of September 11 at the moment of impact, through the first-person point of view. I am the United States and these acts of terror were perpetrated on me. To question this view is to question the notion of our supreme agency. Butler writes,

" There is no relevant pre-history to the events of September 11, since to begin to tell the story a different way, to ask how things came to this, is already to complicate the question of agency which, no doubt, leads to the fear of moral equivocation... We have to shore up the first-person point of view, and preclude from the telling accounts that might involve a de-centering of the narrative "I" within the international political domain. This de-centering is experienced as part of the wound that we have suffered, though, so we cannot inhabit that position. This de-centering is precisely what we seek to rectify through a re-centering. A narrative form emerges to compensate for the enormous narcissistic wound opened up by the public display of our physical vulnerability" (Butler 59).

It seems, through the events of September 11, that our response has stemmed from our desire to restore our supremacy, and restore our position as a dominant character in the global narrative. Any other accounts of what pre-historical context there might have been for September 11, and what characters played what particular roles, denies our role as the dominant agent. It denies our belief that we can re-center ourselves through unilateral action. It denies that we can, in a sense, control our own destiny. Part of the coming to grips with the events of September 11, Butler seems to be saying, is the realization that we don't control our own destiny. It is the realization that there are other characters, that there are other forces, which act on us; when the history of our country has shown that we are the efficient cause. September 11 made us realize that we are not the only efficient cause; and in our response, Butler argues, we seek to restore ourselves as the only efficient cause. Butler calls the tragedy a "narcissistic wound", because the U.S. is, effectively, calling out for global attention to its wound, again, as I mentioned earlier, with the misguided attitude that the world revolves around us.

However, Butler sees an opportunity in the de-centering of the first-person narrative, an opportunity to heal from the wound of September 11 while building a different political framework for the future. If we could only see things from a different perspective, we'd be able to step out beyond ourselves and see the bigger picture. She writes, " The ability to narrate ourselves not from the first-person alone, but from, say, the position of the third, or to receive an account delivered in the second, can actually work to expand our understanding of the forms that global power has taken" (Butler 60). Butler does not deny that we should narrate ourselves through the first-person, but, she argues, we need to "emerge from the narrative perspective of U.S. unilateralism and, as it were, its defensive structures, to consider the ways in which our lives are profoundly implicated in the lives of others" (Butler 60). Thus, we have to consider ourselves not as an autonomous, sovereign, independent global agent but rather an agent that operates in the context of other, equally influential agents. We must understand that the agency of these other actors is not subordinate to our own, but rather, on an equal level. In the context of the global terrorist threat, we cannot merely deny the rational agency of those who perpetuate acts of terror. We cannot immediately dismiss them as illegitimate (illegitimate though they may be). There are reasons, and there is a context, that allowed the events of September 11 to happen. Butler argues that we must address this situation not only from our present position in the linear progression of global terror, but also from a historical perspective further back on the line; and also from different vantage points other than our own at this present juncture on the line. However, as Butler argues at the beginning of the article, seeking to explain the context of present events is often misconstrued as an exoneration. And we fear to explain these events, Butler says, for fear that we may be seen as unpatriotic or anti-American, a symptom of the Bush Administration's "You're either with us or against us" attitude. She writes, " Our fear of understanding a point of view belies a deeper fear that we will be taken up by it, find it is contagious, become infected in a morally perilous way by the thinking of the presumed enemy" (Butler 60). Understanding the another point of view requires us to consider our roles in instigating the acts of terror that were brought upon us. Yet at the same time, however, Butler says that those who believe that that U.S. brought these events upon itself are only reaffirming our belief in U.S. supremacy. It is, in some sense, to deny the agency of others yet again. She writes,

"These are also explanations that assume that these actions originate in a single subject, that the subject is not what it appears to be, that it is the U.S. who occupies the site of that subject, and that no other subjects exist or, if they exist, their agency is subordinated to our own. In other words, political paranoia of this kind is just another articulation of U.S. supremacy" (Butler 61).

Language and the First-Person

Butler fears that, if we are not able understand precisely why the events of September 11 occurred, we will never get beyond the perpetual cycle of revenge as a response to violence. If we cannot reexamine the manner in which we think about these events, she says,

“We will fail to take collective responsibility for a thorough understanding of the history which brings us to this juncture. We will, as a result, deprive ourselves of the very critical and historical resources we need to imagine and practice another future, one which will move beyond the current cycle of revenge” (Butler 62).

Butler sees within the current U.S. global framework that we take it as mutually exclusive with other frameworks, which is another reason why it seems that we can't step outside of ourselves or hear beyond what we are able to hear. For example, she tells the story, when, a month after the attacks, Saudi Prince Alwaweed bin Talal offered to donate 10 million dollars for the World Trade Center relief effort. At the same time, Talal was cautioning Americans of the “slaughtering” of Palestinians by Israel, while New York City Mayor Rudy Giuliani dismissed his remarks as “absolutely wrong”, and refused Talal's offer. Butler writes of the incident, “I would suggest that it was not possible to hear both of these views at the same time because the framework for hearing one presumes that the one view nullifies the other, so either the claim of grief or the offer of help are considered disingenuous” (Butler 63). Part of the trouble of our first-person narration is that we seem to think it excludes any other first-person narration. For example, if the United States sees the violence in Israel as “self-defense”, and the Muslim world sees it as “slaughter,” we are forced to exclude the Muslim point of view because it clashes with our first-person supremacy. To see the situation in any other way, we believe, is to de-center ourselves from the first-person point of view. And isn't that, as Butler pointed out, what we were trying to restore in the first place?

Giuliani rejects Talal's “slaughter”, Butler says, because to use “slaughter' in this way is to morally equivocate it with the tragic events of September 11, which is another manner in which we use linguistics to justify our response of violence.

“He [Giuliani] calls the statements 'absolutely untrue' I presume, not because he disputes that there have been deaths on the Palestinian side, and that the Israelis are responsible for them, but because 'slaughter' as the name for those deaths implies an equivalence with the deaths of the World Trade Center victims” (Butler 64).

We seek to deny that what the Israel is doing to the Palestinians is a “slaughter”, because, if we describe these deaths on the same level that we do those of the WTC deaths, either two things are true: 1.) Both we and Prince Talal are not justified in calling these two events as a “slaughter”; or 2.)Both we and prince Talal are justified in calling these events a slaughter, which raises a cognitive dissonance because 3.)How can we claim justified acts of violence are “wrong” when we are also trying to justify our own acts of violence? This would seem to implicate us in our response, something we hesitate to do because it tears down at the notion of our moral supremacy.

What is our Responsibility?

So, back to the basic question, “ How do we respond to September 11?” With regard to an answer, Butler raises a host of questions that we need to ask ourselves, if we are able to answer the question of why they hate us so much.

“What social conditions help to form the very ways that choice and deliberation proceed? Where and how can such subject formations be contravened? How is it that radical violence becomes an option, comes to appear as the only viable option for some, under global conditions? And against what conditions of violation do they respond? And with what resources?” (Butler 65)

Butler later writes, “ Our acts are not self-generated, but conditioned. But we are acted upon and acting, and our responsibility lies in the juncture between the two” (Butler 66). That is to say, to understand what preceded and coincided with the events of September 11, we must understand the extent to which the historical conditions relate to our agency. We must realize that we are not the sole global efficient cause, but that we must occupy the space in between others acting upon us, and our acting upon others. As such, our responsibility lies in our ability to understand the relation between various agents that act upon one another. To understand the conditions of the global political framework, as Butler calls it, we must understand the complex web of relationships that create this framework. On responsibility, Butler concludes,

“ In a certain way, and paradoxically, our responsibility is heightened once we have been subjected to the violence of others. We are acted upon, violently, and it appears that our capacity to set our own course at such instances is fully undermined. But only once we have suffered that violence are we compelled, ethically, to ask how we will respond to violent injury. What role we will assume in the historical relay of violence, who we will become in the response, and will we be furthering or impeding violence by virtue of the response that we make?” (Butler 66)

Butler believes that we can use the events of September 11 as an opportunity to reassess our global role. We had believed ourselves so powerful and invincible as a country that we never considered how, if we were to be targeted with violence, we would respond to this violence. Perhaps the thought that “It could never happen to us”, lessened, in our eyes, our responsibility to assess the cycles of violence and revenge that plague other parts of the world. Yet, at the moment of impact, it seems, we became a part of this other “world” we had so often looked at with detached eyes. We became not only an agent that acted upon others, but an agent that was able to be acted upon. Perhaps the events of September 11 disrupted our illusion of invincibility, but they also provided us an opportunity to consider our responsibility from a global perspective. As Butler says, only when we suffered this violence were we able to question our responsibility, and how this responsibility would shape the way we moved forward, now as one free agent as a part of a world of free agents, into the future.

Conclusion

Butler concludes that, as a part of this responsibility, we must strategically re-think the way we perpetrate violence against the Muslim world, and we also need to bring the perpetrators of terrorist acts to justice through an international court. To the second, point, the obvious question is, “Is this feasible?” One might think not, for even though we may bring some perpetrators of terror to justice, there still exist terrorist networks with an extreme distaste for U.S. foreign policy. However, this consideration loops back to Butler's first point: If we reassess our response to the events of September 11, and consider the ways in which others view our militarized response as a terrorist act itself, then perhaps we might improve the conditions that help breed terrorism. That is not to say that we should seek to appease those who wish to terrorize our country, but rather, understand why they do so and how we can improve the conditions or relationships which led them to think this way in the first place. We must, as Butler writes, hear beyond what we are able to hear. We must not only look at the events of the U.S. being attacked from the perspective of the U.S., but from a perspective as a member of the international community. Only when we go beyond the first-person narrative are we able to see “who” wrote the book.