What we lost

Almost 3,000 Americans died on Sept. 11, 2001. But our losses are still mounting -- in Iraq and at home -- thanks to the bullying, big-lie culture that dominates American politics today.

By Joan Walsh

Sep. 09, 2006 | Five years later, I remember odd fragments from Sept. 11, 2001. The kindness in the voice of the co-worker who called to tell me about it; the care and concern I saw everywhere that day, in fact. At my daughter's school-bus stop in the near-dark that morning (yes, many of us sent our kids to school in California, only to have them sent home), not all of the parents knew about the tragedy yet, but I'll never forget the sadness and compassion in the eyes of those who did -- for ourselves, for our children, and also for the people in our group who hadn't seen the television yet. We already knew: Nothing would ever be the same.

We had no idea. As awful as our losses were that day, five years later they're almost incalculable. New York Mayor Rudy Giuliani said something that moved me at the time -- that the losses were likely to be "more than we can bear." In fact, he was right, even though the death toll was ultimately lower than first expected. The losses from 9/11 may still ultimately be more than we can bear.

The number of Americans who died that day at the World Trade Center, the Pentagon and in Shanksville, Pa. -- 2,873 -- has been surpassed by the number of American soldiers who've died in the so-called global war on terror, the vast majority -- almost 2,700 -- killed on the utterly unrelated battleground in Iraq. Add in almost 30,000 U.S. military casualties and a reported 46,307 dead Iraqi civilians, according to Iraq Body Count, and the tragedy is staggering -- more than we, or the Iraqi people, should have had to bear. The quick victory in the Afghan war against the Taliban, which had broad national and global support, now seems on the verge of being reversed; every week brings more killing, more repression. This week alone the New York Times reported that the Afghan city known as Little America is now the capital of Taliban resurgence and opium production. Global sympathy in the wake of the attack has turned to global distrust and disdain.

Maybe the loss I regret most was the shimmer of national and international unity we enjoyed after the attack -- the warmth I felt from friends and acquaintances and even strangers those first raw days, a seriousness and purpose I felt more broadly in the following weeks. Like most Americans, I didn't vote for this president. To me, Dec. 12, 2000, the day the Supreme Court stopped the Florida recount that Al Gore would have won, is another day of infamy in U.S. history. But I was willing to give Bush the benefit of the doubt in the weeks after 9/11, let him build on the global support we'd won and do something thoughtful and effective about al-Qaida. His response in those early weeks seemed uncharacteristically measured; he warned against targeting Muslims, he took almost a month before striking Afghanistan.

Since that time, though, we've seen hubris beyond imagination. We've watched an unbridled executive-branch power grab, warrantless wiretaps, the curtailing of privacy rights; a pervasive smog of secrecy descended to obscure our government. Outrage about torture, rendition and secret prisons here and abroad is dismissed with a flippant "We don't torture" from the president. And all of it has been shellacked with an ugly culture of bullying in which dissent equals treason, shamelessly, five years after the attack. Last week it was Donald Rumsfeld comparing war critics to people who appeased Hitler; this week we had Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice saying they're the sort who would have ended the Civil War early and let the South keep its slaves. Their intimidation is meant to say that the very freedoms worth fighting for -- the right to dissent, the right to question our government -- might have to be abridged while we fight. Politically, that truly is more than we can bear.

Still, we've seen nothing so brazen as the president's "war on terror" victory lap this 9/11 anniversary week, three speeches to tell us he's made us safer though there's still more to be done, and pay no attention to the carnage in Iraq. Bush's 2006 anniversary shtick is an eerie inversion of his first anniversary shtick in 2002, another election year, when he used the sad occasion as a platform to sell the Iraq war. Back then, you'll recall, he'd changed the subject from Osama bin Laden to Saddam Hussein at least partly because we'd blown our chance to capture the al-Qaida leader at the end of 2001. So he went months without mentioning the man he'd once vowed to capture "dead or alive." The normally quiescent White House press corps was moved to ask him about it at a March 2002 briefing, and here's how Bush replied:

"Who knows if he's hiding in some cave or not; we haven't heard from him in a long time. And the idea of focusing on one person is -- really indicates to me people don't understand the scope of the mission. Terror is bigger than one person ... So I don't know where he is. You know, I just don't spend that much time on him ... to be honest with you. I'm more worried about making sure that our soldiers are well-supplied; that the strategy is clear; that the coalition is strong."

"I just don't spend that much time on him." Fast-forward four years, and suddenly he's spending time on him again -- Bush mentioned bin Laden 17 times in a 44-minute speech Tuesday -- and the reason is obvious: In both Iraq and Afghanistan, our soldiers aren't well supplied, our strategy isn't clear, the coalition isn't strong. And so this week: Osama is back! And he's as bad as Stalin or Lenin! But we're winning the war on terror anyway! And those secret prisons we wouldn't admit existed? They're out there, all right, but now we're moving the guys we had stashed there to Guantánamo, at least the ones we'll tell you about. (They probably won't talk anymore anyway.) Now we're readying the military tribunals, where you can't see the evidence against them, or how we obtained it. But rest assured, we've gotten a ton of intel out of them that's kept you safe. But we don't torture!

I thought I lost my capacity to be shocked at this administration a long time ago, but Bush's decision to declassify information about our "war on terror" "successes" just in time for the midterm elections is craven and deeply offensive, even for an administration that's made an art form of craven and offensive political cheap shots.

Four years after the first 9/11 anniversary, I have an eerie sense of déjà vu. Back in 2002, some liberals already had anniversary fatigue, since it was clear the administration was going to use the tragedy to gin up support for the Iraq war and demagogue Democrats who opposed it (and even some who supported it). I argued at the time that ignoring the anniversary, being callous about the losses we suffered that day, was wrong. This year I feel even more strongly that it's important to take stock, because of all we lost that day, but more important, all we've lost since.

Despite my disturbing déjà vu, there's reason to believe 2006 will turn out differently from 2002. This time around the midterm elections are looking grim for the GOP, thanks to the war in Iraq, high gas prices and overall gloom about the country's direction. A CBS News/New York Times poll reported Thursday that when asked if the government had done "all it could reasonably be expected to do" to prevent another terror attack, nearly two-thirds of Democrats and Independents said no. Even among Republicans, only 56 percent said yes. Bush's campaign to convince us we're wrong is just beginning, and maybe it will work as it did in 2002 and 2004, but it won't be easy. The great thing about freedom and democracy is we have multiple chances to get things right. Given the erosion of our liberties in the last four years, though, it doesn't seem too much to suggest that getting it wrong again could threaten that very freedom and democracy.

-- By Joan Wal

Researchers identify 'male warrior effect'

NORWICH, England (Reuters) -- Men may have developed a psychology that makes them particularly able to engage in wars, a scientist said on Friday.

New research has shown that men bond together and cooperate well in the face of adversity to protect their interests more than women, which could explain why war is almost exclusively a male business, according to Professor Mark van Vugt of the University of Kent in southern England.

"Men respond more strongly to outward threats, we've labeled that the 'man warrior effect'," he told the British Association for the Advancement of Science meeting.

"Men are more likely to support a country going to war. Men are more likely sign up for the military and men are more likely to lead groups in more autocratic, militaristic ways than women," he added.

Van Vugt said the finding is consistent with results from different behavioral science disciplines.

In experiments with 300 university men and women students, Van Vugt and his team gave the volunteers small sums of money which they could either keep or invest in a common fund that would be doubled and equally divided. None of the students knew what the others were doing.

Both sexes cooperated in investing in the fund. But when the groups were told they were competing against other universities, the males were more eager to invest rather than keep their money while the number of women contributing remained the same.

"We all know males are more aggressive than females," Van Vugt said, adding that co-operation is needed to establish institutions and governments and to wage wars.

"Male co-operation is a double-edged sword," he added.

Clemson's McElrathbey raises young brother

CLEMSON, South Carolina (AP) -- The alarm sounds at 6:15 a.m. and Clemson freshman Ray Ray McElrathbey starts a routine like few others in college football.

Along with classes, film work, defensive back meetings and football practice, McElrathbey sees that his 11-year-old brother, Fahmarr, is dressed and fed, finishes his homework and makes it to middle school on time.

McElrathbey, 19, has temporary custody of his brother because of his mother's continuing drug problems and his father's gambling addiction. The two brothers have shared experiences in foster homes and now share an apartment by the campus.

They live solely off McElrathbey's scholarship while Clemson's athletic department tries to get a waiver from the NCAA that might let them accept donations without jeopardizing McElrathbey's football eligibility.

McElrathbey sought custody because he was tired of worrying what might happen to Fahmarr living with their mother in Atlanta, Georgia.

"I wasn't going to let him go back to a foster home, back to the system," McElrathbey says.

The transition from football player to caregiver is one McElrathbey has cherished since Fahmarr's arrival in June.

"As a brother, it was still me first. As a parent, it's him first," McElrathbey says. "Before I do anything for me, got to do stuff for him."

The elder McElrathbey sounds like a father discussing the struggles of managing a sixth-grader. It often takes two or three shouts before Fahmarr rises and puts on his clothes. McElrathbey signs off on his brother's homework, meets with guidance counselors and tries to keep more fruit around the house.

McElrathbey has no car, so a teammate or friend gives Fahmarr a ride to R.C. Edwards Middle School.

Fahmarr returns to Clemson in the afternoons, often starting his homework at Vickery Hall, Clemson's athletic academic center, or a football coach's office while his older brother works out with the team.

After Tuesday's practice, Fahmarr was in his brother's orange No. 9 jersey throwing the ball to McElrathbey while teammates walked by saying hello or joking with him.

"It's fun living with my brother because we like the same things," Fahmarr said.

After practice, the pair return home. There's dinner, school work and some brotherly time before Fahmarr is asleep and McElrathbey catches up on his assignments, school and football. A big night of fun might be a movie with a teammate or friend.

McElrathbey doesn't mind sacrificing the kind of college life he hears about from teammates.

"My pastor told me it's the Lord wanting to slow me down. I'll take it as that," he said.

McElrathbey has seven brothers and sisters. Because of his mother's addiction, her children have been separated, some ending in foster care as she went to rehab, McElrathbey said.

McElrathbey's mother copes well without the stress of her large family, her son says. Other times she has vowed to get clean and go through rehab, but once she was again raising her children, her problems would resurface, McElrathbey said.

McElrathbey used sports to keep himself out of trouble, often living with coaches or other mentors who kept him in school and focused on the future.

When McElrathbey came to Clemson, he couldn't help but fret over Fahmarr. "You didn't see him at Christmas dinner in Orlando crying in my arms because of his brother," Clemson defensive coordinator Vic Koenning said.

While many in the athletic department have asked to help the McElrathbeys, Clemson must be careful the help is not seen as extra benefits in violation of NCAA rules. Clemson and the ACC have worked on a waiver request to the NCAA, athletic spokesman Tim Bourret said.

Koenning doesn't understand why his wife or other members of Clemson's coaching family can't assist with a trip to the grocery store or school. "I can take two boxes of toys out of my basement and give them to Goodwill, but I can't give them to Ray Ray?"

McElrathbey has no time left for a job, but makes extra spending money washing cars or mowing lawns. He says there is nothing they need he can't afford. "I just had to get rid of the 'great' things, what I call the material things," McElrathbey said.

The NCAA says it's working with Clemson and the ACC on the best solution to assist the McElrathbeys. While the rules prohibit most benefits beyond what comes with the scholarship, "individual circumstances can and are taken into consideration in unusual situations," the NCAA said in a statement.

Clemson safety Michael Hamlin often drives McElrathbey and Fahmarr, and takes Fahmarr for a bite when his older brother's tied up. "He's like a little clown. Everybody likes being around him," Hamlin said.

McElrathbey is glad for the help he gets. He's more happy knowing Fahmarr is safe and sound. The younger McElrathbey told his older brother he is a celebrity on campus now.

Fahmarr was supposed to be in Clemson temporarily. But now McElrathbey expects to maintain custody of his younger brother throughout his teen years. He stays as upbeat as possible and won't dwell on his mother's problems because it doesn't help him or, more importantly, Fahmarr. McElrathbey dreams his mother might one day stay drug free to guide her children, but isn't counting on it.

"You can't get mad at people for being who they are," he said. "You can accept it or you don't, but either way you can't get mad about it because it doesn't help."

Copyright 2006 The Associated Press. All rights reserved.This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.

Humans 'hardwired for religion'

James Randerson
Monday September 4, 2006
Guardian Unlimited

The battle by scientists against "irrational" beliefs such as creationism is ultimately futile, a leading experimental psychologist said today.

The work of Bruce Hood, a professor at Bristol University, suggests that magical and supernatural beliefs are hardwired into our brains from birth, and that religions are therefore tapping into a powerful psychological force.

"I think it is pointless to think that we can get people to abandon their belief systems because they are operating at such a fundamental level," said Prof Hood. "No amount of rational evidence is going to be taken on board to get people to abandon those ideas."

He told the annual British Association Festival of Science in Norwich that the standard bearers for evolution, such as the biologist Richard Dawkins and the philosopher Daniel Dennet, had adopted a counterproductive and "simplistic" position.

"They have basically said there are two types of people in the world," he said - "those who believe in the supernatural and those who do not. But almost everyone entertains some form of irrational beliefs even if they are not religious.

"For example, many people would be reluctant to part with a wedding ring for an identical ring because of the personal significance it holds. Conversely, many people are disgusted by an object if it has associations with 'evil'."

In his lectures, Prof Hood produces a rather boring-looking blue cardigan with large brown buttons and invites people in the audience to put it on, for a £10 reward. As you may expect, there is invariably a sea of raised hands. He then reveals that the notorious murderer Fred West wore the cardigan. Nearly everyone puts their hand down.

Unfortunately, it is just a stunt: the cardigan is not West's. But it illustrates the way even the most rational of people are can be irrationally made to feel uncomfortable.

Another experiment involves asking subjects to cut up a photograph. When his team then measures their galvanic skin response - ie sweat production, which is what lie-detector tests monitors - there is a jump in the reading. This does not occur when a person destroys an object of less sentimental significance.

The Year of Living Fearfully

Iran's Mahmoud Ahmadinejad has gone from being an obscure and not-so-powerful politician to a central player in the Mideast, simply by goading the United States.

By Fareed Zakaria

Newsweek

Sept. 11, 2006 issue - It's 1938, says the liberal columnist Richard Cohen, evoking images of Hitler's armies massing in the face of an appeasing West. No, no, says Newt Gingrich, the Third World War has already begun. Neoconservatives, who can be counted on to escalate, argue that we're actually in the thick of the Fourth World War. The historian Bernard Lewis warned a few weeks ago that Iran's president, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, could be planning to annihilate Israel (and perhaps even the United States) on Aug. 22 because it was a significant day for Muslims.

Can everyone please take a deep breath?

To review a bit of history: in 1938, Adolf Hitler launched what became a world war not merely because he was evil but because he was in complete control of the strongest country on the planet. At the time, Germany had the world's second largest industrial base and its mightiest army. (The American economy was bigger, but in 1938 its army was smaller than that of Finland.) This is not remotely comparable with the situation today.

Iran does not even rank among the top 20 economies in the world. The Pentagon's budget this year is more than double Iran's total gross domestic product ($181 billion, in official exchange-rate terms). America's annual defense outlay is more than 100 times Iran's. Tehran's nuclear ambitions are real and dangerous, but its program is not nearly as advanced as is often implied. Most serious estimates suggest that Iran would need between five and 10 years to achieve even a modest, North Korea-type, nuclear capacity.

Washington has a long habit of painting its enemies 10 feet tall—and crazy. During the cold war, many hawks argued that the Soviet Union could not be deterred because the Kremlin was evil and irrational. The great debate in the 1970s was between the CIA's wimpy estimate of Soviet military power and the neoconservatives' more nightmarish scenario. The reality turned out to be that even the CIA's lowest estimates of Soviet power were a gross exaggeration. During the 1990s, influential commentators and politicians—most prominently the Cox Commission—doubled the estimates of China's military spending, using largely bogus calculations. And then there was the case of Saddam Hussein's capabilities. Saddam, we were assured in 2003, had nuclear weapons—and because he was a madman, he would use them.

One man who is greatly enjoying being the subject of this outsize portraiture is Mahmoud Ahmadinejad. He has gone from being an obscure and not-so-powerful politician—Iran is a theocracy, remember, so the mullahs are ultimately in control—to a central player in the Middle East simply by goading the United States and watching Washington take the bait. By turning him into enemy No. 1, by reacting to every outlandish statement he makes, the Bush administration has given him far more attention than he deserves. And so now he writes letters to Bush, offers to debate him and prances about in the global spotlight provided by American attention.

Ahmadinejad strikes me as less a messianic madman and more a radical populist, an Iranian Huey Long. He has outflanked the mullahs on the right on nuclear policy, pushing for a more confrontationist approach toward Washington. He has outflanked them on the left on women's rights, arguing against some of the prohibitions women face. (He wants them to be able to attend soccer matches.) Almost every week he announces a new program to "help the poor." He uses the nuclear issue because it gives him a great nationalist symbol. For a regime with little to show after a quarter century in power—Iranian standards of living have actually declined since the revolution—nuclear power is a national accomplishment.

Even Ahmadinejad's most grotesque statement, implying the annihilation of Israel, is likely part of this pattern. Iran is seeking leadership in the Middle East, and what better way to do so than by appropriating the core grievance of the Sunni Arabs: Israel. By making his dramatic statements, he is taunting the regimes of the Arab world, using rhetoric they dare not, for fear of Washington. His rhetoric is not so new; the Iranian "moderate" Ali Hashemi Rafsanjani said similar things. The real shift that has taken place in the Middle East is that 30 years ago most Arab regimes would have made statements like Ahmadinejad's. Today his "rejectionism" stands alone.

Iran is run by a nasty regime that destabilizes an important part of the world, frustrates American and Western interests, and causes problems for allies like Israel. But let's get some perspective. The United States is far more powerful than Iran. And, on the issue of Tehran's nuclear program, Washington is supported by most of the world's other major powers. As long as the alliance is patient, united and smart—and keeps the focus on Tehran's actions not Washington's bellicosity—the odds favor America. Ahmadinejad presides over a country where more than 40 percent of the population lives under the poverty line; his authority is contested, and Iran's neighbors are increasingly worried and have begun acting to counter its influence. If we could contain the Soviet Union, we can contain Iran. Look at your calendar: it's 2006, not 1938.