Twenty-five years after the attacks of September 11, 2001, the United States is still grappling with the consequences of its response. The lesson of that day should have been that war is not the answer to the challenges facing the nation. Instead, Washington launched a global war on terror that has morphed into a Zionist genocide, a revived Cold War against Russia and China, and now the threat of a new conflict with Iran. The widespread public opposition to President Trump's war rhetoric suggests that most Americans have finally learned that lesson—but powerful sections of the political and business elite have not.
For those old enough to remember, the images of that morning remain seared into memory: planes crashing into the World Trade Center, the Pentagon in flames, and the collapse of the towers. But just as memorable is the sinking feeling that the hopes and dreams of billions of people—in the US and around the world—would be put on hold as leaders and corporate media embraced a new agenda of revenge, fear-mongering, and military violence.
Within hours of the attacks, the machinery of war was already in motion. At 2:40 pm on September 11, Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld convened a meeting at the Pentagon. Notes taken by Undersecretary Stephen Cambone, later obtained by CBS News, recorded Rumsfeld demanding the "best info fast. Judge whether good enough hit S.H."—meaning Saddam Hussein—"at the same time" as Osama bin Laden. Then came the chilling instruction: "Go massive. Sweep it all up. Things related and not."
That directive set the tone for the next quarter-century. The US invaded Afghanistan, then Iraq, and expanded its military footprint across the Middle East and beyond. The results have been catastrophic: hundreds of thousands of deaths, millions displaced, and a region left in chaos. Experts like Nuremberg prosecutor Ben Ferencz and military historian Michael Howard warned from the start that declaring a "war on terror" made no sense and would make matters worse. They were right.
The official response to inconvenient facts was telling. When the State Department's annual Patterns of Global Terrorism report for 2004 showed an unprecedented increase in global terrorism following the US invasion of Iraq, Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice simply cancelled the report and replaced it with one using different criteria, making comparison impossible. It was a bureaucratic sleight of hand that epitomized the refusal to confront reality.
Asia's Long Shadow
While the war on terror was focused on the Middle East, its effects rippled across Asia. The US military buildup in the region, the drone campaigns in Pakistan and Yemen, and the broader securitization of foreign policy have shaped relations with China, India, and Southeast Asia. The lessons of how nations sleepwalk into war are as relevant today as they were in 2001.
In the Indo-Pacific, the legacy of 9/11 is a US posture that prioritizes military dominance over diplomacy. The pivot to Asia, announced under the Obama administration, was framed as a rebalancing, but it has often been perceived as a containment strategy. The autopsy of the American empire suggests that overreach abroad leads to decline at home, a lesson Britain learned a century ago.
Today, as the US confronts a rising China and a resurgent Russia, the temptation is to double down on military solutions. But the past 25 years have shown that war is a blunt instrument that rarely achieves its stated goals. The sequencing of sanctions and diplomacy with Iran is a case in point: pressure without a clear path to negotiation only escalates tensions.
For Asia, the stakes are high. A new Cold War between the US and China would destabilize the entire region, from the Korean Peninsula to the South China Sea. The lessons from Ukraine's drone warfare are being studied in Tokyo and Seoul, but the deeper lesson is that military innovation cannot substitute for strategic wisdom.
The American public seems to have grasped this. Polls show strong opposition to another war in Iran. But the elite consensus in Washington remains wedded to the use of force. As we mark 25 years since 9/11, the question is whether the US will finally break the cycle of violence or continue to repeat the mistakes of the past.
The answer lies not in more bombs but in a fundamental rethinking of national security. That means investing in diplomacy, development, and international cooperation—not just the Pentagon. It means recognizing that the threats we face, from climate change to pandemics, cannot be solved by military means. And it means listening to the voices of those who have borne the brunt of war, from Kabul to Baghdad to Gaza.
Twenty-five years of war was the exact wrong response to 9/11. The lesson should now be clear: war is not the answer. It never was.
