Silence over the land
Have you heard? There was a bomb explosion in Moscow Aiport Domodedovo this Monday. A terrorist attack. There weird reaction is over the Internet: silence. The silence of grief, the silence of sadness, the sadness of hopelessness and anger. Every year or so something terrible happens - last year it was the bomb in the Moscow subway, and with with every instance of tragedy there is less outcry. Maybe we are less sensitive. Maybe we are less involved. Maybe we just got too tired of not being able to change anything. We feel the pain, we are scared silly, we call - or write - our loved ones, our friends, and don't talk about it, happy just to hear their voices, just to read their seemingly calm replies. Everybody we know are alive this time. We can hope for the better, repeating mantra that is more likely to die in a car-crush anyway. And the thing is - it's true. In my mommish blogging site just over the last two weeks I read posts about people dying - from illnesses. We almost link the terrorist attacks to cancer or earthquakes. People were much more angry and active during the insane summer heat. But they are now passive even now - in small practical things. They rush to help to the airport with offers of free rides for anyone stuck there (taxi cabs prices miraculously went outrageously high); they donate blood, they do whatever possible. The thing is, not many believe we could do the most important thing - to prevent future terrorist acts. Moscow is a huge megalopolis, it is easy to find an unprotected crowd there. And other cities, while smaller are even less protected.
I remember time when terrorism seemed an abstract notion - well, not so much abstract, but one belonging to history books and international studies. When I was writing about it during criminal law course, I had a hard time to find relatively fresh studies. It was 1995.
Then I remember 1999. I was in bed with my future husband when I heard a remote boom. I wondered vaguely what could it be and felt asleep peacefully. In the morning it turned out it was the explosives in an apartment building, not very far from us. It was the first serious blast in Moscow, though we started to get afraid way before that. Now we are not afraid anymore - we cannot afford to, we have to live. People still have to go to work, to walk, to use planes. What else can one do? So people don't talk about the blast much, they have more pressing things to worry about.
I remember time when terrorism seemed an abstract notion - well, not so much abstract, but one belonging to history books and international studies. When I was writing about it during criminal law course, I had a hard time to find relatively fresh studies. It was 1995.
Then I remember 1999. I was in bed with my future husband when I heard a remote boom. I wondered vaguely what could it be and felt asleep peacefully. In the morning it turned out it was the explosives in an apartment building, not very far from us. It was the first serious blast in Moscow, though we started to get afraid way before that. Now we are not afraid anymore - we cannot afford to, we have to live. People still have to go to work, to walk, to use planes. What else can one do? So people don't talk about the blast much, they have more pressing things to worry about.