In America, the attacks of September 11 took 3,000 lives — a tragic blow. The damage cost us billions as well and notably lengthened a recession that was already underway. But within weeks, we were behaving much as we had been on September 10 — shopping in stores, going to ball games, movies and restaurants. By spring of 2002, our economy was growing again at a brisk pace. It’s been popular to say that “everything changed” for America after September 11. But it’s just not so.
For my part, amid the shock I felt on September 11 came a wave of relief. At the time, I was the editor of a magazine devoted to the threat from chemical, biological and nuclear weapons. Osama Bin Laden and his cronies, I thought, had tipped their hand. Had they waited until they had a nuclear capability, they could have dealt us a near-fatal blow. Instead, we were now on our guard and the problem of proliferation would finally rise to the top of the agenda.
It did. But not in the way I hoped. In the ran-up to the Iraq war, chemical, biological and nuclear weapons became lumped together under the phrase “weapons of mass destruction.” Our very language suggested they were all equal threats.
Because they’re relatively easy and cheap to build, chemical weapons are sometimes called the poor man’s atomic bomb. When our Homeland Security Council recently looked at 13 terrorist scenarios, it estimated that an airplane that sprayed a packed football stadium with a blister agent— a liquid that can cause serious bums and respiratory problems — would kill 150 people. The economic impact would be relatively modest — about $500 million — and recovery would take only a matter of weeks. And that’s a pretty sophisticated attack. The fact is, it’s hard to get “mass destruction” from a chemical weapon.
A biological attack could be scarier, main because diseases can continue to spread well after the initial “strike.” Smallpox has long spooked bio-watchers. But models by researchers at MIT and Yale predict that we could contain a smallpox outbreak through mass vaccinations. Plus, we now have 300 million doses of smallpox vaccine, which is enough for every man, woman and child in America.
Anthrax, another bogeyman of bioterrorism experts, worries me even less. It’s not contagious and can be treated with antibiotics. A scenario described by the Homeland Security Council, in which terrorists attack five metropolitan areas using trucks that spray anthrax spores, would likely kill thousands. That’s horrible, but nowhere close to the casualties from a nuclear explosion. In 2001, when a more primitive attack spread powdered anthrax through the mail, only five people died.
Don’t get me wrong: I want us to do all we can to protect the country from chemical and biological attacks. But neither would destroy the fabric of America. So, in the end, these are threats I can live with.
But a nuclear attack — that’s the terror strike that would change everything. If a terrorist donated a nuclear weapon in an American city that had the potency of the bomb we dropped on Hiroshima (and a crude terrorist device could have that much explosive power), the result would be catastrophic. Everything within one-third of a mile would be immediately destroyed. Beyond that, up to a mile out, there would be fatal doses of radiation and raging fires. Those who lived would face a plume of radioactive fallout that would contaminate 3, 000 square miles. The number of dead would probably range into the hundreds of thousands. As many or more survivors would have to leave their homes permanently, the overall blow to our national economy would total into the trillions.
That’s frightening enough. But then there would be the psychological and political fallout. After the attacks of September 11, the country essentially adopted a war footing, accepting dramatically increased spending on security, putting aside domestic priorities, and even giving up certain civil liberties in order to feel safer. I can imagine the response to an attack that was immeasurably worse.
My guess is that random vehicle stops, “sneak and peek” searches, and police and FBI interrogations will seem like a small price to pay to prevent another nuclear attack. Our ability to address pressing problems, such as healthcare and public education, would shrink dramatically as cleanup and reconstruction occupied our energies. We’d also have to redirect resources from the military to the homeland, leaving us far less able to deal with crises abroad. In nearly every aspect, the United States would be a totally different place. And that I can’t live with.