January 2003 Optimism Out Of Pessimism By Rabbi Alvin Kass On November 20, I went to Philadelphia as a guest of the United Jewish Communities to receive their Rabbinical Leadership Award. When my taxi pulled in front of the hotel, I was awed by all the security. A wall of police encompassed the edifice. The instant I exited the taxi, a security official asked my name and required me to present a photo I.D. A master list was checked to see if I was indeed among the 5,000 people who had registered to attend this conference. My luggage was then sniffed by a bomb dog and X-rayed. I had to pass through a metal detector. None of this bothered me. On the contrary, it made me feel that the place was truly safe. The next morning at 6:00 am, I heard a bell ring and a voice over the loudspeaker declared: "The fire alarm has sounded. Wait in your room for further instructions." As a veteran of 9/11, all kinds of thoughts went through my mind as I wondered whether in spite of all the precautions a "barbarian" had managed to pass through the gate. The one thing I wasn't prepared to do was wait for "further instructions." I put on my shoes, covered my pajamas with my overcoat and walked down fifteen flights of stairs to the lobby. Fortunately, it turned out to be a false alarm, but I felt in a very vivid and personal way the "new world" in which we presently live. Some have responded to this new world as a temporary aberration. They are confident that soon we'll get back to our usual buoyant practice of "singing in the rain." That's understandable, because America throughout most of its history has viewed itself as exempt from calamity. Protected by two oceans, and with the horrific exception of the Civil War, we have had comparatively little experience with the ravages of war on our home soil. Although we know theoretically that some day we are going to die, we act as if we can deny nature. As early as the 1830's Alexis de Tocqueville was struck by the feelings of the American people that they were different from the rest of humanity. Free from the disasters of Europe, they regarded themselves as entitled by birthright to happiness. These optimists are not prepared to concede that Osama bin Laden has succeeded in demonstrating that this nation is as vulnerable to tragedy as the rest of the human species. But no society is automatically invincible and exempt from the duty to protect itself from bestial predators. Others are filled with an apocalyptic hysteria. They decline to go anywhere or do anything lest their intended destination should be the next target of the terrorists. Rather than shriek with dread, they would do well to read world history which teaches incontrovertibly that slaughter and mayhem are endemic to the human condition, and we had better get used to it. As Voltaire's Candide makes clear, we do not live in "the best of all possible worlds." Barbarians will always be at the gate; therefore, we must always strive to contain the damage as effectively as we can. Here in America, while we may bemoan the necessity of having to undertake such extensive measures to insure that an event like the recent United Jewish Communities Convention can go off smoothly, let us be thankful that we live in a country that is concerned about our well-being. The police were there to protect us, not hurt us. Osama bin Laden cannot undo the reality that we are in the most wonderful country outside of Israel where Jews have ever made their home. This may not be the best of all possible worlds and terrorism has undoubtedly put a crimp in our style. Nevertheless, we are mighty lucky to be both Americans and Jews. There is good reason to extract optimism out of pessimism.