What's In A Name?

They're reading the list right now. It's September 11^th. And when two hijacked planes destroyed its towers in 2001, 2,753 people were killed. There were additional people killed in Pennsylvania and the District of Columbia. Each year we read the names of the victims of this act of war.

While most were our own citizens, there were many from places around the world. It was an act targeting not only Americans, but the entire world. The perpetrators were killed as well, though they chose their own fates, believing they were martyrs for a holy cause. It's harder to track down those who planned the attack however that is and has been a goal of our government ever since.

But back to the names. The reading is going on as I write. What does it accomplish? Is it appropriate in view of the events, or simply an emotional act meant to pacify the relatives and friends of the deceased? Should the practice go on in perpetuity? The reading of names has been extended to other similar tragedies, although none matches the horror with which we remember this one.

But millions died in the second world war. Millions died in the various bouts of “ethnic cleansing,” the African genocides, and numerous other similar catastrophes. Many of the same unnatural fates are suffered in annihilations all over the world every day. But we don't read their names. We may, from time to time, commemorate the events surrounding their murders but we don't read their names. It would be impossible to do so because we don't know all of their names. If we did the amount of time necessary for the recital would preclude any such act. And those events didn't happen in our country. Only 9/11 did.

But the Civil War did. And like the natural disasters, like the hurricanes just past and those still occurring, and like the calamities that have occurred in the past, it did not result in any such ceremonies and name readings. And it would be a sad commentary on our own level of compassion if our only concern were for the lives of our own people. Without in any way minimizing the tragedy of our lives lost, however – without questioning the heroic nature of their final moments – the significance of reading their names is problematic. Certainly it is meaningful to loved ones, but so would the reading of names of those dying under other circumstances. Yet we do not do so. It's a private matter.

There are several reasons why this particular incident resonates. It occurred as a part of the attack by terrorists on the “civilized” world. It could have happened to us as individuals. A large part of the reaction echoes the idea that “there but for the grace of G-d go I.” We are angry that we were attacked, but relieved that we were not directly affected. Except for the families of those who died. They were affected.

So in gratitude we honor those who perished. We do so, for the most part, not just for their benefit, nor as an expression of our patriotism – our love for America and hatred of our enemies – but because “it could have been me.” Reading their names is the least we can do.

As the years go by, however, fewer and fewer will remember the attack, fewer will remember the victims, and more and more will be bored and confused at the attention being given to people who in reality mean nothing to them. And fewer will attend any commemoration of their lives. It's already happening regarding the Holocaust. Millions died in the evil of that inhumane calamity, but the annual commemorations of the tragedy are attracting fewer and fewer attendees. It's history. People no longer connect. Especially the young.

9/11 was a catastrophe. The people were important. But their names weren't. It's far more important that we teach our children about the events and why they are to be remembered than the names of those who perished. We're saddened by their loss and we're grateful to them, but their names are not the issue. We didn't know them.

“What's in a name? That which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet.” Shakespeare knew that the experience was what counted, not what we called it.

We cannot forget the attack. We're saddened by what happened sixteen years ago. But less so by the names of the victims. Were the names different we'd feel the same sorrow.