25 Years Since September 11: A Critical View from Mallorca

25 Years Since September 11: A Critical View from Mallorca

How does an island that was not at the epicenter remember a global trauma?

Early afternoon on Passeig Mallorca: coffee cups clink, a small crowd in front of an electronics shop window stares at a running news channel, the day's heat still hangs in the air – 27°C, clear sky. Twenty-five years ago images from New York flickered across the screens on this island, and many felt on that day something that could hardly be pressed into routines.

Central question: What remains when the images fade, and how does a local public deal with an act of global violence? This is not an academic question. It affects newsrooms, restaurateurs, teachers, families and tourists in everyday life. On Mallorca there was a notable mix back then of shock and everyday normality: on the one hand silence in newsrooms, on the other a quick return to regular programming on television and few canceled events.

Analysis: Why this ambivalence? Partly geographic and emotional distance plays a role. Events overseas feel different than catastrophes on one's doorstep. Partly, media economics and production constraints determine how far a newsroom can take the lead in commemorating. Print runs, page layouts, broadcast schedules — everything continues, even if internally people hold their breath. Journalists cannot always spontaneously reinvent the form of their reporting; that is a matter of craft and logistical reality.

What is missing in the public discourse is an honest conversation about the limits of media action in crises: who decides how much space a distant trauma receives? By which criteria is the line drawn between sensationalism and reflective examination? Equally important: what long-term consequences does the reporting have for local society — for example regarding security debates, tourism, or prejudices against certain groups?

Another point rarely addressed is the psychological impact on people on site. Not only relatives of victims suffer; editors, camera operators and presenters also carry images and impressions with them. On an island that relies heavily on hospitality and international contacts this shows in small everyday scenes: a restaurant owner reports that in the days after the attacks he repeatedly pulled guests toward the television in the restaurant to silently commiserate. Such moments often remain private and are not institutionalized.

Concrete approaches can be derived from this reflection. First: publicly accessible memory trails and plaques that explain events in their global contexts instead of merely reproducing images. Second: emergency plans for newsrooms that, in addition to technical procedures, also provide psychological support and ethical decision-making rules. Third: educational units in schools and community colleges that promote media literacy so people learn to contextualize images rather than only consume them.

At the municipal level a small roundtable could help — representatives from media, culture, education, tourism and victim organizations meet once a year to coordinate remembrance, education and preventive measures. Such formats would prevent commemoration from remaining purely symbolic and ensure it leads to concrete prevention and education.

An everyday scene today: at the Santa Catalina market two vendors discuss over olives and tomatoes whether more should be said at their grandchildren's school on this anniversary. A taxi driver hums news fragments, a young woman scrolls through archive photos on her smartphone. These small encounters show how remembrance is lived — fragmented, private, often without an official framework.

It is also important to find a balance between continued sensitivity and maintaining normal life rhythms. Constantly sounding the alarm leads to exhaustion; every island community needs routines that serve resilience. But routines must not become repression. A democratic public must ask how it can deal with shock events in solidarity without falling into ritualism.

Finally, a pointed note: remembering is not just lighting candles or illustrating a front page. Remembering means asking questions, learning and changing structures. If Mallorca returns to its usual daily routine on anniversaries, that can be an expression of practical necessity. But if there is a lack of insight that global events can have local consequences, the opportunity to derive action from history is missed.

Conclusion: The images from back then have become less part of daily perception, but the questions they raised have not. An open, sober approach to such events would do the island good: clear responsibilities in newsrooms, transparent information policy, educational offerings and places of remembrance. That way commemoration remains not a pop-up but a tool for a vigilant society.