I miss those two World Trade Centers. I miss the America they represented. Like the country I once knew, I thought they were magnificent!  I agree with Rush Limbaugh who, shortly after jihadists brought them down, opined something to the effect that we ought to build exact duplicates of them, make them just a few stories taller, and we should have started immediately.

Imagine it’s December 7, 1941.  A small group of fanatical, militarist Japanese bomb Pearl Harbor. They kill 2,977 people, most of them civilians, including some peaceful Japanese who are either American citizens or are aspiring to be so.  

Imagine some days after the raid, memorials and candlelight vigils are held for people of all faiths, but where the Shinto religion suddenly is newly stressed, because we cannot forget those who worship it.

Imagine, in addition to American military retaliation, there is general talk in the media and by some of the citizens of the United States that we must understand why the Japanese did this to us before we can retaliate. Perhaps “we deserved it”?

Imagine, despite a nearly unanimous vote to retaliate, to punish the militarist Japanese, sometime after the war has begun, large numbers of one political party begin to openly, vociferously question the motives of the leadership, our president’s motives, in the conduct of the war. Forget patriotism. There are even those among us who insist—despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary—that the unprovoked attack by the Japanese was actually a secret plot by the United States government to bring down the World Trade Centers.  

Imagine rather than calls for limits on immigration of the Japanese—because we are in a protracted war with them, and they are controlled by militarists—we are suddenly not allowed to criticize the Japanese or to question their faith or their motives.

Imagine, little by little, over 3,000 shrines to the Shinto religion are erected all across the fruited plain, places where non-Japanese are not welcome, and non-Japanese are not allowed to enter.

Imagine that 22 armed compounds where Japanese are able to practice their religion and to openly train for armed combat suddenly spring up throughout the United States. These are compounds—no-go zones on American soil— where the local police fear to tread and the locals of the nearby town are forbidden to enter.

Imagine these militarists and those who sympathize with them live by a warrior code to which they are more loyal than to our constitution, one which subjugates women and holds that we who are not Japanese are lesser than they are.

Imagine after Franklin Roosevelt, instead of Harry Truman, we elect a president who is more sympathetic to the Japanese cause than to his own fellow American citizens.

Imagine rather than having been raised the Judeo-Christian religious tradition, he is actually a practicing Shinto worshiper who erects a small Shinto shrine in the White House where he prays daily.

Imagine this president sends money and arms at the end of his term by surreptitious means to the Japanese and their allies.  He and his cohorts in the United Nations and the State Department spend the entirety of his two terms importing Japanese into this country, all the while knowing that among them are militarist fanatics who are intent upon bringing down the United States.

Imagine we’ve even gone so far as to elect a few Japanese militarist sympathetic congressmen who daily whinge against the United States. 

Photo Credit: Ken Tannenbaum/Shutterstock

Finally, imagine that if one is brave enough to point this out, one finds on the internet, and in public discourse, censure and derision to be the order of his day. To Hell with the First Amendment. We must, after all, not engage in Nipponophobia.

This is where we find ourselves 18 years after 9-11: blinded by misguided empathy, hamstrung by enforced contrition, disarmed by lack of reason while dangerous enemies, who wish us ill, live and worship among us. 

Does this scenario make any sense to you? Me neither. Evidently, we lost more than the Twin Towers on that infamous day.

Sandman