Edgar Buckley, historian of Eastern Europe, reflects on the quarter‑century that has passed since the September 2001 attacks and argues that the United States' strategic choices have amplified the very dangers it claimed to combat.

When the towers fell, the world watched a nation in shock. In a lecture hall at Yale, the historian who taught the class that day warned his students that the real test would not be the tragedy itself but the reaction it provoked. He said the Russian imperial and Soviet secret services had long mastered the art of provoking opponents into self‑destructive actions, and that the same logic could be applied to the United States' post‑9/11 trajectory.

From oil dependence to a missed clean‑energy pivot

The immediate political response in Washington centred on security, not energy policy. The historian notes that the most logical counter‑measure would have been to break the nation's reliance on fossil fuels, thereby removing the strategic incentive to intervene in the oil‑rich Middle East. A rapid shift to renewable sources could have curbed greenhouse‑gas emissions, reduced the appetite for overseas wars, and limited the rise of a Russian energy oligarchy under President Vladimir Putin.

Instead, the administration of George W. Bush, whose family wealth was tied to the oil industry, pursued a different agenda. The president framed the attacks as an assault on "freedoms," yet the subsequent creation of the Department of Homeland Security consolidated a wide range of agencies under a security umbrella, blurring the line between external threats and domestic policing. The historian argues that this institutional re‑organisation laid the groundwork for a divisive politics that categorises residents as "legals" or "illegals," a rhetoric that has since fed the construction of detention facilities reminiscent of concentration camps.

The language of the "homeland" and its authoritarian echo

The term "homeland" entered official American discourse at a time when it carried connotations of an exclusive, almost tribal, identity. The historian likens its adoption to the Nazi fascination with "Heimat," a nostalgic notion of a pure, unchanging home. Over the years, the word has become normalised, but its origins remain rooted in an exclusionary worldview that frames outsiders as threats.

Under Donald Trump, the rhetoric intensified. The secretary of defence, Pete Hegseth, portrayed the armed forces as a battleground for cultural wars, men versus women, whites versus Blacks, while redefining the military's mission as "homeland defence." In practice, this meant that the armed forces could be deployed as a personal militia for a ruler, rather than as a protector of democratic institutions.

The Iraq war as a catalyst for domestic upheaval

The historian contends that the 2003 invasion of Iraq was the most disastrous foreign‑policy response to 9/11. The war, launched on the pretense of linking Saddam Hussein's regime to the attacks, was later exposed as a falsehood. The conflict drained public finances, entrenched a militarised political economy, and left a generation of Americans traumatised.

These wounds created fertile ground for a candidate who could exploit public anxiety. The historian links the rise of Trump directly to the Iraq war, arguing that the conflict eroded trust in government and normalised the idea that military force could be used to solve domestic problems. The war also cemented a pattern of unprovoked aggression that violated the core principle of international law: the prohibition of wars of aggression.

From Iraq to Ukraine: a chain of lies and strategic missteps

While the United States did not directly cause Russia's 2014 annexation of Crimea, the historian argues that the Iraq invasion made it easier for Vladimir Putin to justify his own expansionist ambitions. By demonstrating that a great power could intervene abroad under fabricated pretences, the United States inadvertently provided a template for Russian aggression.

In 2013 and early 2014, the historian warned that Russian propaganda would portray Ukraine as a nation of "gay Nazis" and "Jews," a narrative designed to delegitimize the Ukrainian state. When Russia launched its full‑scale invasion in 2022, the United States was initially sceptical, its credibility tarnished by the falsehoods surrounding Iraq. The historian notes that this loss of trust meant that European leaders were less prepared for the scale of the Russian assault.

How the United States' own policies have fed the terrorist playbook

The central claim of the essay is that the United States, by reacting to terror with war, surveillance and division, has handed its adversaries a script they could anticipate. The historian points to three concrete outcomes:

1. The proliferation of security agencies that blur the line between external threats and internal dissent, creating a climate where civil liberties are routinely curtailed.

2. The entrenchment of a defence‑industrial complex that prioritises military spending over social investment, deepening inequality and limiting the state's capacity to address climate change.

3. The normalisation of the term "terrorism" as a catch‑all justification for both foreign wars and domestic crackdowns, allowing leaders like Trump and Putin to label opponents as terrorists to legitimise repression.

Trump's attempt to weaponise terror at home

According to the historian, Trump's refusal to accept the 2020 election results and his subsequent attempt to overturn the democratic process in January 2021 represented a domestic incarnation of the terrorist strategy: use fear and force to achieve political ends. The historian links this to the broader pattern of state‑backed terror, noting that Putin's war in Ukraine has involved systematic war crimes, mass executions, forced deportations and the targeting of civilians with drones and missiles.

From the author's perspective, the United States' decision not to supply Ukraine with Patriot air‑defence systems has directly contributed to civilian casualties. He argues that this policy reflects a broader willingness to let allies suffer in order to preserve American strategic interests elsewhere, notably in the Middle East.

The Iranian dimension and the risk of a wider conflagration

The historian warns that the United States' confrontational stance toward Iran, especially under Trump, has created a dangerous feedback loop. By provoking Tehran, Washington risks a scenario in which Iran might launch an attack on American soil, providing a pretext for further domestic repression or even the suspension of elections.

In this view, the United States is caught in a self‑reinforcing cycle: wars abroad deplete resources, fuel domestic authoritarian impulses, and increase the likelihood of further conflict.

What the historian urges citizens to do

Amid the sirens of air‑raid warnings in Kharkiv, where the author writes from an underground shelter, the historian calls for a different kind of response, one that refuses to be drawn into the terrorist playbook. He cites the resilience of Ukrainians who, despite nightly bombings, gather to discuss ideas over wine, as an example of collective agency that defies the logic of provocation.

For Americans, the historian's prescription is similar: resist the urge to accept the narrative that security must be bought with war, surveillance and division. Instead, he urges citizens to demand policies that break the dependence on fossil fuels, invest in public services, and uphold the rule of law.

Implications for Europe

European readers can draw several lessons from this analysis. First, the European Union's own energy transition is a strategic imperative; reducing reliance on Russian gas and Middle‑Eastern oil not only mitigates climate change but also limits the geopolitical leverage of authoritarian regimes.

Second, Europe's experience with the rule of law and social welfare offers a counter‑model to the United States' security‑first approach. By maintaining strong democratic institutions and protecting civil liberties, European societies can avoid the slide into a climate of fear that fuels authoritarianism.

Third, the historian's critique of the United States' unilateralism underscores the importance of multilateralism. Europe's commitment to NATO, while sometimes strained, remains a platform for collective security that can check the excesses of any single power.

Looking ahead

As the 25th anniversary of 9/11 passes, the historian concludes that freedom begins with the choices individuals and societies make after a crisis. He warns that if citizens allow fear to dictate policy, they hand victory to the very forces that seek to destabilise them.

In the words of the author, the path forward lies in "thinking for yourself about the future" rather than surrendering to a narrative of perpetual threat. For Europe, this means continuing to champion renewable energy, safeguarding democratic norms and refusing to let security concerns eclipse the fundamental rights of workers and migrants.

Only by confronting the legacy of past decisions and refusing to repeat the same mistakes can the continent hope to build a more just and secure future for all its citizens.