PSu Magazine Winter 2002

he says. "Terrorists want to get people watching, thinking, listening-to what they want us to learn." R lstein, along with most of the rest of the nation, wasn't thinking much about terrorism, if at all, when he arrived at PSU in 1971. As a JO-some– thing professor with a shiny new doc– torate in criminology from Florida State Univer ity, Perlstein joined Administration of Justice to teach criminology to future cop , prison guards, and jail counselors. But as the 1970 unfolded-with conflicts rife between Israel and its neighbors-Perlstein came to realize that terrorism was a looming issue pri– marily for, he thought, the Middle East. He began to read up. What he found convinced him that not only was terrorism widespread in the world, but domestic terrorism in the United States was, and has always been, close at hand. Yet this, he says, has historically been obscured. "The United States hasn't wanted to consider any political action as ter– rorism," says Perlstein, "so any act of terrorism was called what the act was." Arson, for instance. Not terrorism. It wasn't an uncommon govern– mental response. The United Nations issued a resolution condemning terror– ism only in the aftermath of Septem– ber 11. Perhaps, says Perlstein, the resolution was so long in coming because so many member nations were birthed in violence. Soon after Perlstein began studying terrorism in earnest, about 1980, a tu– dent handed him a flier for a confer– ence to be held in Aberdeen, Scotland. It would be the first acade– mic assembly on terrorism, and Perl– stein longed to go. He sent in a proposal for a paper on "Why terror– ism is nece ary in today' world." That got organizers' attention, and he was invited to present his thoughts. Ironically, on his way home, Perl- stein encountered his subject first– hand. He had reached the airport in Aberdeen for the fir t leg of his jour– ney home, a flight to London's Heathrow airport. Someone, however, had attempted to place a bomb on a plane at Heathrow. Britain's stringent anti-terrorist procedures immediately closed down all airports nationwide until every plane could be searched and every passenger given a pat-down. Perlstein waited hours for the searches to be completed and the nation to resume air service. But after he and fellow passengers finally boarded, their flight was delayed again when a bag in the cargo hold was found to have no passenger to accom– pany it. (It turned out the passenger had tired of the long delay and chosen another route.) "That," says Perlstein, "was my first real experience with what happens when terrorism strikes and security sets . " m. When he returned to Portland, his phone was ringing. Local reporters had contacted his office for a comment, and Perlstein, with his firsthand expe– rience, became th point man. The news media wa local-that time. But Perlstein's next brush with media attention went national. R lstein was at home in 1995 when the national media first reported the bombing of the federal building in Oklahoma City. Within a short time, the fir t reporter was knocking on his door. For the next two days, he an wered calls and gave in-person interviews nonstop as dozens of reporter , local and national, sought to make sense of the tragedy. Six years later, the scene repeated itself. A ringing phone woke Perlstein at 6:10 a.m. on Sept. 11. A reporter from a local radio station was on the line asking for his response to the New York City tragedy. Quickly flipping on the television, Perlstein saw the World Trade Center in flames. It was the first call of hundreds. For week , Perlstein fielded questions from local and national reporter . Students found themselves hungry for understanding, too, swelling enrollment in his class, Perspectives on Terrorism. Although he is affected by horrific acts of terrorism as much as anyone, Perlstein says he is not surprised. Rather, he's surprised there's so little terrorism in the United States. Ameri– cans, he says, give scant thought to possible terrorist act and are quick to put such tragedies behind them, even glossing over historical violence-pre– ferring a sanitized version of history. "We forget with time and say the world is a better place," he says. "It's not a better place-it's a different place ... we expect the best and when the worst happens, we are never pre– pared for it." I f we must gird ourselves for such acts to become a fact of modem American life, what, then, should we do? On a practical level, Perlstein sug– gests that individuals become more aware of their urroundings and not take security for granted, even in Port– land. On a larger scale, he suggests, we must remember how to compromise with others and ensure that everyone has a voice in how the world is run. "So long as people feel no alterna– tive to violence," he says, "they'll chose violence... we must realize there's controversy in the world. Con– flict is a normal part of society. We have to learn to deal with it instead of making believe it doesn't exist until it happens to us." Or, to repeat Perlstein' favorite quote: "If you want peace, prepare for war."D (Melissa Steineger, a Portland freelance writer, wrote the articles "Unbuilt Port– land" and "Business Prophet" for the spring 2001 PSU Magazine.)