Solidarity with victims

I feel of all the speeches, rants, and articles on the horrific loss of life in London, this Brit puts it best, next to perhaps the mayor of London. The following was written by Stella Jorgensen.

"The day the British people have been awaiting for four years arrived on Thursday. Scenes of turmoil, confusion, smoke and blood. Streams of crumpled people poured out of subway tunnels and drifted round the streets like litter.

Surprisingly, there was very little fear or panic on open display. Sadness and confusion, yes, but few tears, few screams, no hysteria. The predictability of the attack combined with London stoicism mean that the first worry on many people's minds was how they would get into work, or how they would get home that evening.

The response to the attack, even while the dead are still being counted, also highlights unique aspects of the British character. I am a member of an online political network of activists from all over the globe. As soon as the news broke, fulsome tributes began to pour in from my American colleagues; pictures of flags and lit candles, poems, expressions of heartfelt sympathy and friendship. Yet it felt odd to me.

The British are not good at sentiment, no matter how genuine. Since Thursday's tragedy, we have not been shedding public tears, we have not been buying flags, we have not been shouting for retaliation. It is interesting to speculate as to why the response has been so unusually subdued. Part of the explanation is undoubtedly "blitz mentality". Decades of being targeted by the IRA means that London, like few other western cities, has an intimate acquaintance with terrorism, and at some point the collective decision was made that it would take more than bombs to dent London's swagger. Since then, terrorism is allowed only to affect those directly involved, and we get on with the boring but essential business of living, as our brothers around the world wave flags on our behalf.

The condemnation of the act of terrorism has rightly been universal. Civilians of all creeds and colours share outrage, the Muslim Council expressed it horror and grief, the newspapers all have sombre black banners. And yet, the condemnation is tempered by a dawning sense that, as a nation, we are not blameless victims.

As I watched the aftermath of the bombing on television, the thought occurred that the fear, the anger, the disgust I felt as I watched my fellow citizens wipe blood from their eyes was just a tiny fraction of what the people of Iraq have been experiencing every day for years, with no end in sight. The act of individual terror, revolting though it is, is completely dwarfed by the relentless onslaught of state terror, paid for with our taxes.

So, perhaps our quiet response to the attack also reflects our guilt about the fire our government rains down on the heads of the innocent civilians of Iraq. A sentiment I have heard again and again in recent days has been "now we know what it's like". Victims reaching out in solidarity to other victims. Why did it take this tragedy to force jaded imaginations to recognise our common humanity? Why does war have to be brought to our doorsteps before we realise how horrible, how fundamentally unacceptable it is?

If understanding motive is important when investigating a murder, it must be even more important to try to comprehend the motivation of those who murder dozens. Even now, with the smoke still billowing, British people are recognising national culpability in such great numbers that there is very little criticism of their view. The condemnation of the war in Iraq has reached an astonishing peak, and the attempt to understand the motivation behind the London attacks is so widespread that it cannot rightly be considered dissent at all. Those who refuse to ask themselves "why" are now firmly in the minority.

Seeing Tony Blair and George Bush on television pontificating solemnly about protecting our values, our way of life, and about how evil the terrorists are ignores the simple fact that in terms of numbers alone, they themselves are infinitely worse than a handful of determined amateurs. Our values and way of life have done irreparable harm to people around the world. They need to be rethought as a matter of some urgency. This basic truth fails to penetrate the dull fog of cliché which surrounds Blair and Bush, and it was with weary resignation that my family and I, watching the ludicrous, irony free pronouncements, turned to each other and laughed out loud."