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From: "Laszlo B. Apathy III" <>
Subject: [HUNGARY-L] FWD: Editorial from a Romanian newspaper
Date: Sat, 6 Oct 2001 02:57:07 -0400

Subject: Editorial from a Romanian newspaper
An ode to America

Why are Americans so united? They don't resemble one another even if
you paint them! They speak all the languages of the world and form
an astonishing mixture of civilizations. Some of them are nearly
extinct, others are incompatible with one another, and in matters of
religious beliefs, not even God can count how many they are.

Still, the American tragedy turned three hundred million people into
a hand put on the heart. Nobody rushed to accuse the White House,
the army, the secret services that they are only a bunch of losers.
Nobody rushed to empty their bank accounts. Nobody rushed on the
streets nearby to gape about. The Americans volunteered to donate
blood and to give a helping hand. After the first moments of panic,
they raised the flag on the smoking ruins, putting on T-shirts, caps
and ties in the colors of the national flag. They placed flags on
buildings and cars as if in every place and on every car a minister
or the president was passing. On every occasion they started singing
their traditional song: "God Bless America!".

Silent as a rock, I watched the charity concert broadcast on Saturday
once, twice, three times, on different TV channels. There were Clint
Eastwood, Willie Nelson, Robert de Niro, Julia Roberts, Cassius
Clay, Jack Nicholson, Bruce Springsteen, Silvester Stallone, James
Wood, and many others whom no film or producers could ever bring
together. The American's solidarity spirit turned them into a choir.
Actually, choir is not the word. What you could hear was the heavy
artillery of the American soul. What neither George W. Bush, nor
Bill Clinton, nor Colin Powell could say without facing the risk of
stumbling over words and sounds, was being heard in a great and
unmistakable way in this charity concert.

I don't know how it happened that all this obsessive singing of
America didn't sound croaky, nationalist, or ostentatious! It made
you green with envy because you weren't able to sing for your
country without running the risk of being considered chauvinist,
ridiculous, or suspected of who-knows-what mean interests.

I watched the live broadcast and the rerun of its rerun for hours
listening to the story of the guy who went down one hundred floors
with a woman in a wheelchair without knowing who she was, or of the
Californian hockey player, who fought with the terrorists and
prevented the plane from hitting a target that would have killed
other hundreds or thousands of people. How on earth were they able
to bow before a fellow human?

Imperceptibly, with every word and musical note, the memory of some
turned into a modern myth of tragic heroes. And with every phone
call, millions and millions of dollars were put in a collection
aimed at rewarding not a man or a family, but a spirit which nothing
can buy.

What on earth can unite the Americans in such a way? Their land?
Their galloping history? Their economic power? Money? I tried for
hours to find an answer, humming songs and murmuring phrases which
risk of sounding like commonplaces. I thought things over, but I
reached only one conclusion.

Only freedom can work such miracles!!

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