A New Era, a New Enemy but Another Day of Infamy

Remember where I was? Of course. All of us remember where we were. All of us who were around when they bombed Pearl Harbor.

Those of us above toddler age anyway. That’s about one in 10 current Californians.

I was 4, playing with my little brother at the bottom of a slope, behind our house in Santa Barbara. My mother rushed down, very intense. “Remember this day. It’s Dec. 7. Dec. 7. It’s historic. America has been attacked. . . . We’re at war.”

And I’m sure she went on to use some words that today would be unacceptable, starting with a characterization of Premier Tojo.

American reaction was immediate, especially on the Pacific Coast: anger and fear. A sneak attack. They might be on our beaches in weeks or days.

Round up all the suspects. The scapegoats. The possible “saboteurs.” By the end of winter, 110,000 American citizens and legal aliens of Japanese descent were being banished to desert prisons.

The San Francisco Chronicle, in an editorial, seemed to speak for political leaders and the majority population: “This is a fight for survival. In this fight we cannot pussyfoot. We have to be tough, even if civil rights do take a beating for a time.”

It was morally wrong, but comprehensible, given the panic.

One winter night over L.A., antiaircraft guns sprayed the sky for an hour with 1,430 shells. Five civilians died, but no enemy planes were hit. There were none. Just false rumors. The sheriff arrested 20 Japanese Americans, claiming flares had been shot from their homes.

That was the dark side of America’s mood after Pearl Harbor.

There also was the bright side, the “greatest generation” side. My age group will be the last to have lived through World War II and experienced a totally united America, joined in a common cause.

We were less jaded then. We had not yet been lied to by a president dragging us into a wasteful and unwinnable war, by a president covering up crimes against political enemies and by a sexually sick president soiling the Oval Office. Rather, we watched our parents be inspired by a trusted and beloved FDR.

Dec. 7, 1941, was “a date which will live in infamy,” the then-president told Americans, boosting their spirits and confidence. Sept. 11, 2001, also is a day of infamy, but it hasn’t produced the presidential eloquence crucial for a wartime leader.

Many have been trying to draw analogies between Pearl Harbor and the terrorist attacks. Aside from the similarity of people always remembering where they were--mostly getting out of bed in California on Tuesday--I don’t see much resemblance.

And it’s not just because the terrorists apparently killed thousands more than the Japanese (2,403). Sixty years ago, fathers and uncles soon began going off to fight, and the impact was plenty heavy--and close up.

It’s also not quite true that World War II was fought entirely off the U.S. mainland. Shortly after 7 p.m. on Feb. 23, 1942, a Japanese submarine surfaced off the coast 12 miles north of Santa Barbara and shelled the Ellwood oil field. Nobody was hurt, and damage was light. But it infuriated my dad, who was working on a crew there.

“They gave us pitchforks and told us to go stand on the beach and defend it,” I remember him griping to my worried mom when he finally got home after sunup. “What was I supposed to do with a pitchfork?”

One difference between Pearl Harbor and the terrorist attacks, obviously, is that the Japanese had the decency to bomb seamen and soldiers. These cowards killed helpless civilians. But that’s not the main difference.

It’s this: Back then, we were angry and frightened. Now, we’re puzzled. Then we knew who the enemy was and where to go find him. Today, we’re sort of sure, but maybe not really, and we’ll have to think about all this awhile.

Patience is not a rallying cry.

“Intelligence is going to have to crack this right away,” says California historian Kevin Starr, the state librarian. “We cannot afford to demonize the wrong people. . . .

“It’s very important for us not to repeat 1942 and scapegoat one group. That’s the big challenge to California, given our multicultural society.”

There are an estimated 800,000 Muslims living in California. In 1941, there were 93,000 Japanese Americans here.

Despite our historical pride and grandiose can-do rhetoric, it’s not at all certain we’re up to this. Winning the terrorist war is not a sure thing. Every generation has to prove itself.

We’ll always remember where we were Sept. 11, 2001. But we don’t know yet where we’re going.