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Editor's
note: The opinions are those of the author and not of any agency
of the U.S. government.
 e
don't need to know.
When it comes
to informing ordinary Americans about terrorist alerts, it's that
simple: We don't need to know. This, of course, goes against the
grain of a public faith in the United States that the government
has a positive obligation to tell us just about everything, a belief
that arose from undeniable abuses of trust in the White House and
within the intelligence community in the 1970s. It is, however,
utterly detached from common sense, especially during wartime.
In any case,
these iterated "alerts" are part of the problem instead
of the solution. President Bush has said that we need to get on
with our lives, and he's right. We need to go about getting on airplanes,
shopping at the mall, attending sports events, and all the million
little things that people in an advanced civilization do, and that
retrograde barbarians like Osama bin Laden detest. But more to the
point, there's nothing we can do in the face of a terrorist "alert,"
short of…well, staying off airplanes, avoiding the mall, and
giving our football tickets to braver souls. And that's just what
the terrorists want.
The news yesterday
that last week's warning from California Governor Gray Davis that
his state's bridges were targets was not credible, after all, only
adds to the case for not being told.
Lost in all
the recrimination about how the administration is needlessly worrying
the public (or alternately, amid the usual howls about "the
public's right to know") is the undeniable fact that short
of hiding in the basement, there isn't anything the average citizen
can do to thwart a terrorist attack beyond the kinds of things we're
already doing, such as being more vigilant about our mail, more
willing to report mysterious abandoned packages at airports or other
public places, or even — as Peggy Noonan frighteningly recalled
recently — to be outright confrontational when young men of
Middle Eastern appearance are suspiciously videotaping national
landmarks in the dark. But beyond that, all we are left with is
to give in to our fears, something that too many of us seem eager
to do.
Consider a
small example. I live in a small town in Rhode Island, where we
recently had a flap at the local supermarket. Someone reported a
"white powder" in the aisles, and in due course the men
in biohazard suits were on the scene. Heaven knows that white powders
are an unusual sight in grocery stores — unless you count all
the flour, sugar, and detergents, of course — but more to the
point is the combined level of narcissism and paranoia that led
to the closing of a supermarket in a small town for two days. It
makes perfect sense, of course: The terrorists have hit the World
Trade Center, the Pentagon, and sent anthrax to the U.S. Senate
and the major networks. Logically, their next step would be the
symbolic and irresistible target of a supermarket in a little town
in New England.
It's plainly silly to see terrorist bogeymen lurking behind the
frozen foods, but as long as there are more of these amorphous "alerts,"
there will be more of this kind of excessive jumpiness. With that
said, no one would deny that credible concerns should be passed
on to local political and law enforcement authorities. If there's
evidence of a specific threat to, say, the Golden Gate bridge, especially
to the point where public safety demands its evacuation, then federal,
state, and local officials should get it done as quickly and with
as little panic as possible, and without making people 3,000 miles
away afraid to go to buy a quart of milk.
This kind of
very specific alert is quite a different matter than telling the
entire American nation that in the next few weeks, something bad
might happen somewhere. Let's be honest: We knew that already, and
it's not just limited to the next few days, weeks, or months.
There is one
good reason to publicize alerts, however, and that is as part of
a strategy to deter, or even smoke out, terrorists. Letting the
enemy know that you have anticipated his plans might indeed avert
an attack, and even spook the would-be attackers into running for,
and revealing, their escape routes and other aspects of their network.
If that is
the object, by all means, alerts should be used even if they scare
the daylights out of the shoppers eyeing the leaky box of pancake
mix in Aisle Five. But if the point is the public's "right
to know" — or a fear that there will a public backlash
if something happens in the absence of a declared alert — then
inducing panic is worse than useless.
The president
and his national security must make plain that the possibility of
a terrorist incident is part of life in the United States (and Europe)
for the foreseeable future, and that the government may not be able
to anticipate them all. It is a realization we will have to bear
with a certain amount of stoicism, and that means flying, shopping,
traveling, and doing all the other things terrorists would rather
we not do. And it means, as well, a mature faith that those of our
fellow citizens who are entrusted with our security are doing the
best that they can, and in the meantime, we simply do not need to
know.
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