The day when the two towers that used to dominate Manhattan went down caused a personal crease for me as well. From that day on, the world, as well as myself, have not been the same. Five years have passed and the shadow of that day on me hasnât got any smaller.
It has been much more than a terrorist attack. It has been one of the turning points of history. The fall of the Berlin wall should have brought the end of the last century horror, of the world tearing apart depending on monstrous ideologies. I have honestly believed in the end of the ideologies.
The European-American bourgeois civilization seemed to have won the Third World War, the cold war. After the victory on the Soviet Union and its disappearance it seemed the human kind had managed to get out of the terrible strait that had threatened to annihilate it with an atomic war. Many of us believed then in the ideas of Francis Fukuyama, who talked about the "end of history", the end of a nightmare that is. Actually, the American and European democracy had defeated its greatest enemy in the same way it had done with Hitler in the past. The postmodern world of the high-end technologies, of the internet and of the multi-culturalism seemed to have no more enemies. It was like a collective utopia, like an extremely attractive dream. That was the time when I wrote "Postmodernismul Romanesc" ("The Romanian Postmodernism"), the book in which I embraced the most advanced ideas of that times: pluralism, tolerance, the minoritiesâ emancipation, equilibrium between localism and globalization. Todayâs readers might find my book, as well as the one of Fukuyama and many others, as naive.
This kind of books didnât take into account that, in a world with different speeds of life and development, huge resentments towards the faster and the more developed ones appear at each second. The people of the co
