Albert Carnesale
The headline on yesterday’s Los Angeles Times was
“Terrorists Attack New York, Pentagon.” The headline on
yesterday’s New York Times was, “U.S. Attacked.”
Neither of these great newspapers got it right.
This attack was not suffered solely by New York and Washington,
nor even more broadly by the United States. What happened on
Tuesday, Sept. 11, was an attack on all humanity.
Whether the carnage occurred in New York, or in Washington, or
in Mexico City, or in Beijing, or in Nairobi is of secondary
importance. Wherever the lives were taken, this was a dastardly
attack on innocent men, women and children everywhere.
In that very real sense, this was an attack on the UCLA
family.
The United States has long been shielded from catastrophic
events of such enormous proportions. We watched from a distance
unconscionable acts of genocide and interminable ethnic conflicts.
This time, the incalculable damage was done in our homeland.
The loss is too great to be defined or measured. Even at that,
it is expected to grow, and surely will weigh on our hearts and
minds for generations. What is clear is the undeniable fact that we
too are only human; that we too are vulnerable; and that we too
have a vital interest in bringing an end to violence
everywhere.
Tuesday’s tragedy was our tragedy. All four of the
passenger-laden aircraft that were hijacked and crashed were headed
for California. Many of the people on these planes were to be met
at Los Angeles International Airport by family members and
friends.
To those who lost loved ones, friends and colleagues on those
planes or in the demolished buildings, this represents a very real,
personal, permanent loss. Our hearts go out to all of them. We
share their grief.
The time has come for us to direct our energies toward healing.
The time has come for us to come together to help one another cope
with the personal suffering and to begin to mourn the loss of
lives. The time has come for us to come together to speak to one
another, to hear one another, to teach one another, and to learn
from one another. The time has come for us to come together as a
community ““ the UCLA community ““ to share our feelings
of shock, sympathy and sorrow.
Shock, sympathy and sorrow are not the only emotions we feel.
The wanton acts of terrorism also induce anger and fear.
Those who planned, supported and executed these heinous acts
deserve to be the objects of our anger. They must, and will, be
found and punished. But they are not among us.
Surely there could be no greater victory for the terrorists than
if we were to direct our anger toward each other. We must avoid
making the tragic error of assuming guilt by association. Tolerance
and respect are the hallmarks of a civil society, and they must
continue to be the hallmarks of the UCLA community.
Fear is the other emotion with which we must deal. Fear is
precisely what terrorists hope to induce. That is their goal. That
is the purpose of their ghastly acts. The calamitous losses
inflicted this week demonstrate that we are all mere mortals.
But that is not to say that we are in constant mortal danger. As
chancellor of UCLA, my highest priority is to ensure the safety of
the students, faculty, staff and visitors on this campus. Be
assured that all prudent measures are being taken to provide for
your security. You are, after all, the university’s greatest
treasure. You are UCLA.
We need not, must not, and will not be cowed by the recent acts
of true cowards. As a united community, we will find through each
other the strength to step bravely into the future, and to be proud
of ourselves, proud of each other, proud of our university, and
proud of our country.
In conclusion of today’s ceremony, I ask you to join me in
a moment of silence: in remembrance, in prayer, in unity and in
hope.