Boston marathon bombing response

  

"CAPTURED!!!" Boston's finest after securing the city

When I’d hear emergency services personnel responding to questions after doing heroic acts in the line of duty saying things like, “I was just doing my job” or “Any other officer in my position would have done the same”, I’d feel a bit frustrated. Why always the same trite and deferential sound bites? Why can’t they bask in the glory a little?

But it all became clear after I took in the aftermath of the Boston bombings and the now famous tweet from the Boston Police Department: 

“CAPTURED!!! The hunt is over. The search is done. The terror is over. And justice has won."

Shortly afterwards, people stumbled out on the streets, eyes blinking in the blaze of flashing lights piercing the black night. They’d been holed up in their homes, glued to the TV, watching the drama unfold in 2D. Now, they gathered as the makeshift cavalcade of police cars, military vans, unmarked federal vehicles and ambulances rolled past. And in another hemisphere, we looked at the telly and felt the same sense of relief and happiness to see those people absorb what had just happened - kids in pajamas, men and women waving American flags and cheering.   

It was eerie to reflect that just days earlier, people had stood in much the same way – either side of a road, applauding the feats of other humans as they crossed a finish line. But as with the marathon after the bombing, the end point of this quest seems blurred. And the triumphant, tweeted declaration that “it’s over” “it’s done” seems apt for the battle maybe, but not the war.

As the seemingly endless procession of vehicles drove past, the early golf claps of a few gave way to a more hearty wave of jubilation and praise for the blackened windows of strangers passing by – those who had performed untold feats to deliver a victory savoured by all.

As the crowd grew more confident in showing their appreciation, so too did the recipients of their admiration. A car window wound down here and there to reveal a thumbs up, or a wave. A policeman smiling through pursed lips. And then, emboldened by the roaring cheers of the gathered masses, an ominous looking armoured black SWAT vehicle slowed in front of the TV cameras.

A faceless voice spoke through the vehicle’s PA system, “Thank you. Thank you. It was our pleasure,” it said to the escalating cheers. And then, “BPD! BPD! BPD!” for Boston Police Department. The crowd caught on pretty quickly, chanting “USA! USA! USA!” in response.

It was a uniquely American moment, as only non-Americans could understand. A brazen show of patriotism, in the shadow of an attack seemingly aimed at its heart. Some say sex is the antidote to grief, and is never more passionate than straight after a funeral. Using a similar analogy, it’s not surprising that many Americans turn to highly demonstrable nationalism at times when their way of life seems most threatened.

In the preceding hours, there was little freedom to be found as Bostonians were told to abandon work and school and lock themselves inside their homes, to be opened only to heavily armed SWAT teams. The relief that swept the city once the curfew and imminent threat were lifted was palpable and understandable.

Less so, the lack of professional humility in the wake of what had been a highly volatile and unpredictable build up. Even the usually circumspect President Obama blew on this flickering flame, inciting a modern-day incarnation of Manifest Destiny, in his post-arrest address. “One of the things that makes America the greatest nation on Earth...” he began. It was a speech designed to rally Americans feeling vulnerable in the aftermath of a horrible, illogical act, and to rouse a sense of united belief and pride in the nation’s cultural diversity.

But in the arrogant declaration of supremacy, the President – like the ill-considered Tweet and the faceless voice-over from the loudspeaker – gave the impression to the rest of the world that America just doesn’t get it sometimes. The US is our friend, ally, and first cousin. In this most poignant of moments though, America seemed like the popular kid in school, who makes a dumb, unfunny joke about another kid’s dead mother. The friends look on, shake their heads and say, “That wasn’t cool, man”.

In the supercharged atmosphere borne of adrenalin, fatigue and genuine fear that accompanies a crisis, I want my emergency personnel cool-headed. We can fall about ourselves, get drunk on New Year’s Eve and try to take a copper’s hat and kiss him, but in the end, we want that same policeman to give a reluctant smile and keep looking for trouble in the crowd behind us. I don’t want nurses to recoil when they see my injuries. I don’t want army officers to take ‘glory’ pictures of a fallen enemy. And I sure as hell don’t want police officers leading a chant of Aussie! Aussie! Aussie! after they secure our community. I want them to nod graciously at our adulation, celebrate a good day at the office in private with their colleagues and do it all again tomorrow, the same way. 

So next time I hear emergency service personnel brush off suggestions of gratitude or heroism from a thankful public, I’ll marvel at their humility and grace, as much as I stand in awe of their courage, selflessness and professionalism in doing what they do.

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