Such an anniversary serves a number of purposes. It is a day of mourning. It is an affirmation of national solidarity. But of one thing we can be sure. It is not a day of national reflection. Reflection, it has been said, might impair our "moral clarity."

Notice the passive tense. Who exactly has said that reflection is the enemy of moral clarity? It is, of course, the precursor to moral clarity. And notice too the condescension and arrogance of this woman. How dare she think that the only people "reflecting" are those opposed to the war? In fact, the deepest reflections I have found -- reflections on history, on religion, on freedom, on war -- have often led thinkers more nuanced and supple than Sontag to support this war wholeheartedly. That is not to say that others might draw different conclusions. But reflection is not the monopoly of any side in this debate.

It is necessary to be simple, clear, united. Hence, there will be borrowed words, like the Gettysburg Address, from that bygone era when great rhetoric was possible.

Abraham Lincoln's speeches were not just inspirational prose. They were bold statements of new national goals in a time of real, terrible war. The Second Inaugural Address dared to herald the reconciliation that must follow Northern victory in the Civil War. The primacy of the commitment to end slavery was the point of Lincoln's exaltation of freedom in the Gettysburg Address. But when the great Lincoln speeches are ritually cited, or recycled for commemoration, they have become completely emptied of meaning. They are now gestures of nobility, of greatness of spirit. The reasons for their greatness are irrelevant.

Such an anachronistic borrowing of eloquence is in the grand tradition of American anti-intellectualism: the suspicion of thought, of words. Hiding behind the humbug that the attack of last Sept. 11 was too horrible, too devastating, too painful, too tragic for words, that words could not possibly express our grief and indignation, our leaders have a perfect excuse to drape themselves in others' words, now voided of content. To say something might be controversial. It might actually drift into some kind of statement and therefore invite rebuttal. Not saying anything is best.

Did Sontag hear president Bush's brilliant and stirring Sept. 20 address to Congress? Did she read his West Point address on preemption? Will she even notice Tony Blair's incandescent tones this week? Just because she will not listen does not mean that great rhetoric is dead or that our leaders are incapable of it. The point of reiterating Lincoln tomorrow is to remind us of the democratic values now threatened by our enemy. I see no problem with that. Who on earth would?

I do not question that we have a vicious, abhorrent enemy that opposes most of what I cherish -- including democracy, pluralism, secularism, the equality of the sexes, beardless men, dancing (all kinds), skimpy clothing and, well, fun. And not for a moment do I question the obligation of the American government to protect the lives of its citizens.

Here is her exculpatory passage, designed to insulate her from the accurate charge that she opposes any credible American response to the jihad launched against us. But even now, her point is clear. They may wage war on us but we cannot wage war on them. We can only defend ourselves once they have attacked us -- and not before. And we cannot hold the states that sponsor these people responsible. Saddam must stay. And so must every other facilitator of terror in the Middle East, while we conduct a police search -- with Miranda rights -- for the culprits every time more innocents are massacred.

What I do question is the pseudo-declaration of pseudo-war. These necessary actions should not be called a "war." There are no endless wars; but there are declarations of the extension of power by a state that believes it cannot be challenged.

You're repeating yourself here, Susan. This is like the final verse of a Barry Manilow song where, having exhausted any actual melody or lyrics, he simply ratchets up the same old chorus in a new key. Didn't Howell suggest she cut this? He should have. It's sounding desperate. As a reader put it to me in an e-mail this morning: The world has moved beyond Sontag's understanding and experience, and she feels that is unfair.

America has every right to hunt down the perpetrators of these crimes and their accomplices. But this determination is not necessarily a war. Limited, focused military engagements do not translate into "wartime" at home. There are better ways to check America's enemies, less destructive of constitutional rights and of international agreements that serve the public interest of all, than continuing to invoke the dangerous, lobotomizing notion of endless war.

Lobotomizing? Isn't it telling that in her last fusillade against her opponents, she accuses them of facilitating a mass coma of stupidity? It is the last resort of the fading intellectual: to accuse your public of stupidity. Of course, it is Sontag who is drowning here. She knows she cannot countenance the evil of radical Islamism. She knows she cannot defend Saddam or Osama. She knows she cannot truly oppose self-defense against the horrors of the terror masters. For how can she be a real lefty and support people who enslave women, deny human rights and murder homosexuals and Jews? But her worldview is so marinated in decades of anti-Americanism, in a loathing of capitalism, of free markets, of free trade and ideas, that she cannot bring herself to live up to her own principles. So she waits in a welter of metaphor until they murder us again.

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