|
From the issue dated September 28, 2001
|
|
The Power of Words
By LEONARD CASSUTO
In the wake of the attacks on the World Trade Center and
the Pentagon, The Chronicle asked scholars in a variety of disciplines to reflect on those events. Their comments were submitted in writing or transcribed from interviews.
|
I teach just a few miles from what used to
be the World Trade Center. After the attack, I walked into classes full of traumatized students who wanted and needed to talk. But talking was hard for a lot of reasons -- not least how many
of us have been using words.
Secretary of State Colin Powell announced in the aftermath of the attack that the terrorists were criminals who would be brought to justice. A few hours later, President Bush denounced the attack as an act of war; later, he described the United States as being at war. In the days following, each adopted some of the other's rhetoric. Scores of columnists weighed in with an abundance of words about justice and war. The result is an ambiguity of meaning that badly needs to be attended to.
Politically, "war" is a word that has traditionally referred to one territory's mounting military action against another territory. American policy makers have been emptying the word of meaning for quite a while now. Our country has waged a "war on drugs" and a "war on poverty," but with whom have we been at war in those campaigns?
Now we are facing the consequences of our casual use of such an important word. When a law enforcer searches for a criminal, the rights of the criminal and others who are affected must be respected in the process. We'd never expect the police to blow up a house to kill the suspected criminal inside, for example. When a country declares war, by contrast, it may restrict the liberties of its citizens. It also need be less concerned with the lives and liberties of those in the line of fire. The stakes are high: The words we use prescribe certain behaviors.
If we're now at war, whom are we at war with? Any government on earth that doesn't meet our standard for tracking down terrorists or preventing terrorism? Or are we dealing only with the people who perpetrated this incident? The president's recent speeches suggest both, but that's impossible.
If we're now at war, what shall we do with the accused terrorists who have been apprehended since the attack? Are they not prisoners of war, entitled to full rights under the Geneva Convention? I can't imagine that some of those people will not receive criminal trials in the not-too-distant future. But if we're going to try them in our criminal courts, doesn't that make them criminals, and the terrorist attack a criminal act?
We have a word for what has happened: terrorism. What I'm suggesting is that we don't have a word for what to do next. Our impoverishment of language ought to serve as a clue that we face an impoverishment of concepts. Not surprisingly, we're not sure what to do. We are in an Orwellian crisis, and we should listen to George Orwell's advice: "What is above all needed is to let the meaning choose the word, and not the other way about."
It's hard to live and teach in the world when it feels so mysterious and dangerous, but as we figure out what to do, as a government and a society, we need to keep sight of the words that we use to know the world. I'm neither a lawmaker nor a member of the military, but as an English teacher I know this: Words are the most powerful weapons we have, and we need to use them thoughtfully.
Leonard Cassuto is a professor of English at Fordham University.
http://chronicle.com
Section: The Chronicle Review
Page: B13
|
Copyright © 2001 by The Chronicle of Higher Education
|

|

Reflections on the Fractured Landscape
|

|

|

|

|

|

|

|
|
|

|
|