Insurance and design woes continue to dominate news of Ground Zero and the fate of a permanent memorial. But it bears reminding that memorialization has been a regular, if not always remembered, part of the World Trade Center site. As we mark the five-year anniversary of the attacks, a look at some of the site's past memorials provide a unique glimpse into our evolving memories of Sept. 11.
In November 2001, President Bush stood on a platform overlooking Ground Zero to honor the two-month anniversary of 9/11. Different from the few that had preceded it, this ceremony was, organizers explained, "for the world." Its centerpiece was one of the first memorials to the attacks: a large canvas panel recognizing the nationalities of those who died.
"In Memory of the International Victims of the World Trade Center; September 11, 2001," it read.
Under this title, eight columns listed the 82 nations that lost citizens on 9/11, and a small replica of each nation's flag appeared to the right of the name.
The president was joined by a mix of foreign dignitaries and government officials, including U.N. Secretary General Kofi Annan, Indian Prime Minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee, then-Secretary of State Colin Powell and Mayor Rudolph Giuliani. In the months following the ceremony, President Bush's ground-zero guests included Russian President Vladimir Putin, Israeli Prime Minister Ariel Sharon and Swedish Prime Minister Goran Persson, all of whom inscribed handwritten comments on the panel next to the name and flag of their nation.
Like all memorials, the commemoration "for the world" was not without politics - it served an important role in the administration's burgeoning war on terror. It sent a message to those leaders who joined with the president: here is a memorial that not only recognizes your nations but legitimates your involvement in a military response to the attacks as well. Your citizens were attacked, too, and we - Americans - won't forget that.
But many at the ceremony were in concurrence with the 2001 memorial because it resonated with a sense at the time that 9/11 wasn't simply about America. In addition to those evacuated from the Sears Tower in Chicago on that Tuesday morning were individuals in Paris and Tokyo who were sent home from subways and skyscrapers for fear of an attack in their cities.
Groups in multiple foreign cities laid memorials and held commemorations in their own plazas and in their own streets. Such sentiments were on display at Ground Zero as well: foreign visitors left homemade memorials and flags of their nation-states on fences and street corners, just like their American counterparts. These expressions did not equal the world-wide alliance that the official memorial suggested, but neither was the fear nor sadness wholly limited to the United States after the attacks.
Today, commemorations have swung to the other end of the spectrum.
Though much of Daniel Libeskind's master plan for the site has been dismantled by politicians and architects, one of its sole remaining features is the planned Freedom Tower and its symbolic sky-skimming 1,776-feet height. As it assumes the status of the tallest building in the world, it will celebrate a moment and symbol of singular American achievement.
One year ago, protesters at Ground Zero echoed the tower's symbolism. Scores of protestors hoisted signs reading "9/11 Not 'World History'" and "America, they are Hijacking Your Memorial."
The group was protesting the ill-fated "International Freedom Center," a museum once slated to stand next to the site's future memorial. Officials said the museum would situate 9/11 within a global historical context.
There were a number of reasons for the antagonism against the Freedom Center and its plan to create exhibits about historical events other than 9/11. But despite their diverse criticisms, protesters collectively rallied around nationally charged declarations that sent the message that international aspects of 9/11 do not have a place in a future memorial at the site.
Claims that 9/11 belongs exclusively to America are surely overstated.
They leave little room for the non-American families who lost loved ones to mourn them at Ground Zero, or for anyone grappling with the frightening and international reality of violence and terrorism that 9/11 revealed. But like all debates over memory, such claims reflect the particular historical moment in which they arise. Just as the "memorial for the world" echoed the politics of diplomacy that emerged after the attacks, the Freedom Tower and subsequent protests signal a more recent American turn inward.
As for the international banner, it has come to a curious fate.
A few months after its unveiling, the banner was removed from its private location at the WTC site and hung on a wall of the Family Room - a private space for family members of victims overlooking Ground Zero. Family members have gradually covered the room with hundreds of homemade memorial cards, signs and pictures of their lost loved ones. The canvas, taking up almost an entire wall, occupied significant space and became covered with layers of memorials as well. The historic panel - replete with signatures and comments of support from numerous foreign dignitaries - remains hidden from view.
Elizabeth Greenspan is a lecturer in the Urban Studies program. She is writing a book on memorialization at Ground Zero.
