President George W. Bush addresses first responders at the at Ground Zero on September 14, 2001. Image Source: NARA

Today marks 25 years after the September 11^th attacks, an event that has shaped the trajectory of this country ever since. The memories and experiences of this day continue to affect many, and undoubtedly still color our politics today. We must always remember the people who were lost that day: the lives that were cut short, and the heroes who ran into the face of danger so that others would live, whether they were first responders or regular citizens. The destruction of 25 years ago continues to take from us, as thousands more who were exposed to hazardous materials have died from illnesses directly traceable to the attacks.

I sometimes think about how future generations will view this date as anniversaries come and go, especially as the generations that experienced those events fade. In my youth, I recall my 4^th grade class heading over to the adjacent 5^th grade classroom to watch some sort of documentary and interviews about the 50^th anniversary of the D-Day invasion. I didn’t know anything about it, but I understood based on what I was watching that it was important; then again, I was the kind of kid who regularly wore a sweater with a B-17 Flying Fortress diagram printed on it, so I was curious about history.  While my recollection of that moment is limited, I do distinctly remember watching on the classroom’s roll-out TV stand, an object which for those in my generation often served as a symbol of hope and joy.

As the saying goes, everyone would remember where we were on 9/11, and I certainly do. Far removed from the terror experienced by millions of New Yorkers that day, I was in my senior year of high school in Los Angeles, on my way to the bus stop when I first heard reports of some sort of plane hitting the World Trade Center. I didn’t think much of it at first, thinking it must be some sort of Cessna or other small aircraft. Over the course of the next hour, riding the bus, the radio reports began to sound more dire, and after getting to school, I rushed to my junior year AP U.S. history teacher’s classroom because I knew he had a TV, also on a stand—and in that moment the hope and joy that object normally offered was forever lost. By that time, the vague picture I had gleaned off the radio became entirely clear: both towers were gone. Knowing that the towers hosted up to 50,000 people, I was having trouble processing that we had possibly lost an entire war’s worth of American lives in such a short time. I struggled to hold back tears as I sat in French class trying to grasp what had just happened.

That day, I started writing. I needed to process the calamity we all saw unfold on our televisions, and channeling my feelings into a thought-out written response was helpful. The replays were constant, the devastation massive. America was eager for a response. I was eager for a response. I understood that the response to this attack would likely last decades, if not a generation. I understood that much of it would be clandestine. I knew the world had changed. It would be nearly a month before we felt the satisfaction of that response. What I didn’t realize at the time was this set me on a career path of foreign policy and national security analysis.

This was my generation’s Pearl Harbor, but our response would be much different than that of our grandparents, and our attention would be divided. There would be no massive conscription, and no uniformed enemy. The asks of our country would be minimal, and the burden of combat would fall upon the select few of our population who volunteered to serve. The initial victory in Afghanistan felt hollow, as Bin Laden remained elusive, and we desired a more satisfying result.

Our attention thus pivoted to Iraq. The mobilization would be much larger and the combat more visible as journalists were embedded with units and reported live from the battlefield. My family signed up for cable TV service just in time to see the war unfold live on our screens. I scoured the internet looking for live feeds from journalists as armored units made their thunder runs through Baghdad. At 18 years old, with the naïve assumption that our country could accomplish anything (after all, we won World War II and went to the moon), I thought this war would protect America and we would be welcomed as liberators. Despite all the freedom fries and the public ostracization of the Dixie Chicks for daring to protest, and the stories of weapons of mass destruction, I was completely wrong. That realization shaped my desire to truly understand the complications and nuances of policy rather than accepting the feel-good simple explanations of how we wanted things to be.

Despite the initial successes of the wars launched in Afghanistan, and subsequently Iraq, the next 20 years would be an exercise in disappointment. The reasons were many. While it’s easy to opine on every aspect of the response to 9/11, it is perhaps more important to reflect on the lessons. The lessons are numerous, but for the sake of brevity, I offer ten:

• Despite our enormous military power, that power is limited in terms of what it can accomplish. Using that power often causes backlash, especially when there are civilian casualties.
• Local forces are key to success. If these forces are insufficient or unwilling to stand up, the mission is destined to fail.
• Societal buy-in is paramount, both in terms of domestic support for the mission and in terms of local dedication to the vision being offered.
• Truly understanding the societies we are trying to influence or otherwise operate in is vital, and should inform decision making processes and the subsequent strategies developed.
• Groupthink is catastrophic. It would behoove policy makers to take counsel from real experts who will lay out the potential negative consequences of their decisions and take that advice seriously.
• Expats or opposition leaders exiled from their countries are not always the best authorities on what will work in their countries of origin today. Inherent bias can create dangerous assumptions or unrealistically grand visions of success.
• Corruption is incredibly destructive to peace building. It damages the credibility of new institutions and hinders effective governance. It also weakens the effectiveness of American reconstruction efforts while raising the costs. Better mechanisms are needed to prevent this at all levels, including within U.S. government contracting.
• Reconstruction projects should be designed to employ and enable the local population, thereby increasing employment, boosting the economy, and creating more value for the population in the work being done.
• Design achievable objectives, and designate strategy and resources appropriate for their achievement.
• Tactics do not equal strategy, but the correct tactics can aid in a strategy’s success. Similarly, the wrong tactics can undermine that strategy’s chances for success.

As Americans debate their government’s foreign policies, the lessons of 9/11 can provide insight on what works and what doesn’t. Considering the current course of policy and the widening divisions in our politics, it’s also worth considering the brief moment of clarity and unity we felt on that day and in the period shortly after. I distinctly remember two things: a desire to understand why this happened, and an incredible aura of patriotism and unity that permeated our country. It is very American to learn the lessons of the past. We should apply those lessons today and in the future.

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