On bin Ladin.

This week, Bernd and I feel like two people on a small, sparsely inhabited offshore island, watching the headlines back on the mainland explode with fist-pumping glee at Osama bin Ladin’s death. The celebrations that erupted in the streets looked ugly from here, and the gruesome achievement looks smaller than its high billing suggests.

I'm not convinced that bin Ladin’s death changes much of anything, really. My immediate response, revealing in its cynicism, was, “Gee, here I always thought we’d kill Osama in late October of a presidential election season.” Bin Ladin's death doesn’t undo any of the messes we’ve made in Afghanistan or Iraq. It won’t spring us from our not-war in Libya or reform our whole misguided Middle East policy or reclaim our distanced allies. We won’t start redefining our national security interests to match our capabilities in the wake of May 1. His death certainly can’t begin to reverse the damage we’ve unleashed on ourselves—the forfeited civil liberties, the resources and attention stolen from schools and other public goods and thrown into drones, bombs, Humvees, and those $400 gallons of gasoline that power us through craggy Afghan mountain ranges. Bin Ladin’s death won’t lift the residue of fear that clings to everything and justifies every kind of theft, deceit and criminal act.




From FireDogLake: Justice is about what society does, not what an alleged criminal has done. Justice is about giving fair treatment to the accused, no matter the enormity of the crime they are accused of, no matter the place in society of the accused, and no matter the place in society of the victims. Justice is about things like the rule of law and an opportunity to confront one’s accusers and challenge evidence. Justice is how society sets itself apart from those who perpetuate injustice. Justice is how society says to those who violate the community’s rules, “You may act this way, but we do not.”