On November 9, 2002, a few hundred people, mostly mental health clinicians, gathered at the New York University Medical Center for two days of discussions on the theme, September 11th: Psychoanalytic Reflections in the Second Year. The conference was sponsored by the five New York Societies of the International Psychoanalytical Association. The presentations described various bits of learning that seemed to be emerging from the crisis clinical work with so many traumatized people since the attack on the World Trade Center. This paper discusses three of those presentations in the context of the author's reflections based on his psychotherapeutic work with very troubled patients in a therapeutic community setting. He emphasizes the effect of trauma, not only on individuals, but on the holding environments and symbolic order on which human beings depend for their psychic survival.

What comes to my mind is my house in the woods with no neighbor in sight, a home I have to defend not against real burglars or imaginary terrorists but against deer that eat my flowers and raccoons that break into my porch and all that at a 15-minute drive from a superb library. I see the peaceful emptiness of the land. I see myself driving or riding my motorcycle on, say, Interstate 70, somewhere in Arizona or New Mexico perhaps along the legendary Santa Fe Railroad with barely a car on the magnificent highway. With some justification the USA is reproached for being the world's worst polluter yet it invented and maintains the most glorious National and State Parks. I recall the Natchez Trace running from Mississippi to Nashville Tennessee, a fine two-lane road with no buildings (not even a gas station) along its 443 miles (710 km), or the Appalachian Trail, a mountain footpath for hikers which extends over 2100 miles (3400 km). To those who equate America with New York it may sound surprising, but the overwhelming majority of the population of the United States leads a quiet, undisturbed life. One pays one's taxes - and is left alone in everything else. Years can pass without the need for any contact with the so-called ‘authorities’ to arise, and when it does - on city, state, or federal level - the contacts are usually pleasant. People elect their sheriffs, their judges, the employees of the court house, all of whom, to keep their jobs, try to be helpful. In the soup-kitchen where I have occasionally served, a good, appetizing meal is offered free of charge to anyone who comes in, with no questions asked about need or identity. Many who come could afford to buy themselves a meal.

The article focuses on motivation, proposing the equation in its title and opposing the contrary view, that what moves people to action is the rational calculation of their material interests. The latter view is most familiar in economics, where it was for generations seen as the best (meaning, most ‘scientific’) mode of explanation. It had a great deal of influence on historiography and found a great deal of support among psychologists also. From these three areas of research it is being challenged, however, even to some extent displaced, in recent decades. The importance of emotions or feelings in explaining behavior is increasingly acknowledged, and the validity of conclusions reached about feelings in historical contexts through the operation of empathy. Illustrations of how this works can be easily supplied.

Some features of the ideology motivating the Roman destruction of Carthage in 146 BC have surprisingly modern echoes in 20th-century genocides. Racial, religious or cultural prejudices, gender and other social hierarchies, territorial expansionism, and an idealization of cultivation all characterize the thinking of Cato the Censor, like that of more recent perpetrators. The tragedy of Carthage, its details lost with most of the works of Livy and other ancient authors, and concealed behind allegory in Virgil's Aeneid, became known to early modern Europeans from briefer ancient accounts rediscovered only in the 15th century, as Europe's own expansion began.

Recent historical work on changing perceptions of the human body has been influenced by Michel Foucault's contention that the self of western individualism was created by new regimes of disciplining the body. A different approach is taken here, one that focuses on how individual bodies came to be viewed as separate and inviolable, that is, as autonomous. The separateness and inviolability of bodies can be traced in the histories of bodily practices as different as portraiture and legal torture. After 1750, regular public exhibitions, themselves a new feature of the social landscape, showed increasing numbers of portraits in London and Paris. The proliferation of individual likenesses encouraged the view that each person was an individual, that is, single, separate, distinctive and original. At the same time, the tide turned against judicially sanctioned torture and cruel punishment. Long-held notions of sacrificial punishment and truth through pain withered under the pressure of new experiences of the body that in turn facilitated the emergence of new conceptions of rights of individuals.

When I think about America, I think about a great diversity of types of people, from different backgrounds, national origins, races, religions, classes and points of view. The US is made up of descendants of African slaves and recent African immigrants; mid-western farmers and Asian Americans whose families come from nearly every Asian nation; Jewish families from Eastern Europe and Native Americans who have owned our land for centuries before any others. These are only a few of the stories that make up the rich diversity of American society. Diversity is our greatest asset.

This brief essay examines emergent spaces for politics and emergent political actors. The particular concern here is with types of politics that do not run through the formal political system, one with shrinking options for a growing number of US citizens and immigrants. Informal political actors and street-level politics in cities are major instances of this. US cities have a long history of street-level politics. The contents, the purposes, the mobilizers and the enactors of these politics have changed over time. Today's global cities are a very specific type of place because they bring together both the most globalized sectors of capital and the new transnational professionals, on the one hand, and a growing number of immigrants and native minoritized groups in a single, complex space.

It would be comforting to think of a disjunction between America at home and America in the world, to imagine the arrogance of government a matter of distance rather than character, to think of the billion people in the world who are starving and the epidemic of obesity in the United States as a failure of knowledge rather than of character. But there are so many who live poor in this, the richest country in the history of the world, that I now doubt both the ethics of America and the wisdom of its leadership in the ways of the world. The country seems to be now on a wrong path, having confused the momentary benefits of triumphant force with the real benefits of fairness. The cost in money to provide the poor of the world with potable water is nothing compared to the cost of war.

Whatever its other effects, the Soviet-American Cold War helped launch and sustain an era of feverish intellectual activity in the linked fields of international relations theory and foreign policy analysis. One sign of the importance of more recent phenomena with all their resonant impacts may be the continuing ferment in theorizing about international relations, foreign policy and public international law years after the war's conclusion, a ferment which the 9/11/01 terrorist attack on the United States and its aftermath have intensified. Comprehending the scholarly inquiries and debates in these fields should be important to intellectuals regardless of their professional interests, not only because those inquiries and debates concern profound epistemological and ontological issues, but primarily because they have influenced and continue to influence the trajectory of United States foreign policy.

American universities, which were pale copies of European counterparts before World War II, afterwards exploded into pragmatic centers of research and teaching. Previous isolationism turned into concern with foreign affairs. Change is now the slogan for many aspects of American society.

This essay focuses on the danger of complicity. American philosophers, given their country's hegemonic position, exert global influence; what form should it take? Comparison is made with the situation of France when it still controlled Algeria. French philosophers, until near the time of Algerian independence, generally accepted and sometimes profited from this extremely unjust situation. An important exception was Sartre, particularly in his Preface to Fanon's The Wretched of the Earth. It is argued that elements of complicity with American global dominance, some of the more unjust aspects of which are listed, are to be found in such widely read philosophers as Rawls and Rorty. It is suggested that a rethinking of the problem of evil, in its political and not just its religious aspects, is in order. Finally, a broader view of what ‘American philosophy’ means, including, for instance, the voices of African American and Native American philosophers, is urged.

The author presents Simone Weil's theory that force, an inherent part of the human condition, generates and regenerates its own existence. She examines three essays by Weil: ‘The Iliad or a Poem of Force’, ‘Reflections on War’, and ‘The Power of Words’. Doering situates the essays historically: their publication in French journals, as World War Two was looming, and again in the mid-1940s when translations of the essays appeared in Dwight Macdonald's New York journal: politics. She applies to modern times Weil's conviction that the escalation of war preparations on grounds of national security inexorably undermines the belief in the supreme value of the individual. Major issues include the hyping of war as an act of interior politics, fear as a means of social control, freedom of thought in a permanent war economy, Dorothy Day on violence, the media in a democracy and the Greek concept of nemesis.

In the short decade between 1985 and 1995, the dominant cultural movement of our time, hip-hop culture, has become, seemingly overnight, mainstream American popular culture. This centering of hip-hop art, most specifically rap music, in American popular culture has given young African Americans unprecedented national and international visibility, at a historical time when images via the 21st century's public square of television, film and the internet are more critical to identity than ever. This visibility, and most certainly the often anti-Black and stereotypical images that accompany it, forces distinctions to be drawn between today's Black popular culture and traditional ideas of Black culture, including what is art and what's at stake in cultural commodification.

Several years before the recent French-American diplomatic squabble, Saul Bellow and Philip Roth, arguably America's two greatest novelists, wrote major works of a markedly anti-French tenor. Indeed, both Ravelstein and The Human Stain, with their disparate griefs against the French, share a remarkably similar plot: against a backdrop of Gallic treachery, a courageously conservative academic, condemned to death by his sexual excesses, asks, before dying, a novelist friend to write the story of his life. Framed by a consideration of an idiosyncratic work of American sculpture that appears to depict the sexual servicing of Abraham Lincoln and an evocation of the career of William Bullitt, Freud's collaborator on a study of Woodrow Wilson and America's ambassador to Paris during the fall of France, this essay offers a reading of both novels and raises the question of American sanctimony and the price France may be expected to pay for it.

Like most liberal Democrats in the USA, I am alarmed and embarrassed by my country's current presidential administration: its heavy-handed unilateralism; its rejection of such progressive international treaties as the Kyoto protocols to reduce global warming, the international criminal court, the anti-ABM and anti-landmine treaties, etc.; its inclination to curtail civil rights in the name of Security; its general tendency away from democracy toward oligarchy. Nevertheless, I love the USA much more than not, and I hope to be more proud of it in the future, as I've been in the past.

One can make the case that we have lost the capacity for abstract thought. When we read or listen to the radio, the mind forms images in response to the suggestion. The same thing can be said to occur when an illustration provokes the viewer by its symbolic relationship to reality. Abstraction encourages the mind to bridge the distance from suggestion to reality. Art is the most benign and fundamental way of creating community that our species has discovered.