&uot;Sed quis custodiet ipsos custodes?&uot; &045;Juvenal

In the two years that have passed since the World Trade Center was destroyed by religious fanatics, we have become a much more paranoid society. Everywhere we look, we see enemies who want to destroy us or friends we no longer trust. We feel isolated and alone, and are obsessed with security, with making ourselves safe from terrorist attack. Publicly and privately, we’ve spent billions on new technologies and on new kinds of police officers.

The attacks on Sept. 11, 2001 are part of the reason, but they don’t explain everything about our current obsession. The attacks didn’t really start a new trend; they just ended up pushing us further down a road on which we were already traveling. As a nation, we have steadily been moving away from any sense that we are all in this thing called the &uot;United States of America&uot; together. We act as if some of us are better than others because of wealth or ethnicity. We act as if some people, especially those who have little money, can’t speak English very well, and often have different colored skin, need to be kept at a distance in order for the rest of us to feel &uot;safe.&uot;

Part of this trend towards being &uot;safer&uot; expresses itself in privately owned neighborhoods, also known as &uot;gated&uot; communities. These entities have become a fixture in our country, even here in Freeborn County. They often look like neighborhoods anywhere, with houses, streets, parks, and sometimes even schools, with one important exception: Only people who live there or their registered visitors can enter. The whole thing is surrounded by walls and fences, with warning signs to keep the unwanted outsiders at a distance.

Back when the Roman Republic was falling into chaos and the age of the Empire was dawning, the writer and aristocrat Juvenal cynically asked his fellow Romans the question at the beginning of this essay. It was a fairly simple question: But who is to guard the guards themselves? The answer, however, wasn’t simple. Who will protect us from the guards we hire?

Juvenal asked the question because the city of Rome in his day was becoming a collection of fortresses, with walls and guards to keep the wealthier inhabitants safe from their enemies. Around the world, Roman power itself was threatened, as conquered peoples near and far repeatedly reasserted their independence.

The inhabitants of the city of Rome put their &uot;faith&uot; in their walls and guards, just as the citizens of the Republic put their &uot;faith&uot; in their armies and fortresses at the frontiers. Juvenal pokes a big hole in their so-called &uot;faith&uot; by pointing out that they are still dependent on the integrity of those who guard them and their homes. His own belief is that, ultimately, the guardians themselves will become corrupted, with their loyalty dependent on who paid more, or resentful, expected to risk life and limb while those they protected lived lives of decadent luxury.

Every analogy or comparison from history has limits, of course, and there is much about our world that is different from the world of the ancient Romans. Still, Juvenal’s observation is directed more at exposing basic human weaknesses than at critiquing politics or culture.

When we feel safe in a home set apart from the rest of the community, or because of all of the &uot;security&uot; that our money can buy, whether it’s guards or sophisticated technology, we create unhealthy separations in our society. Too many of us do not try to connect with the people around us; we try to keep &uot;them&uot; away from us instead. What are we afraid of? Are &uot;they&uot; our enemies? Are we really safer behind our walls?

If we are safer, we don’t act like it. Most of us are as scared behind our walls as we are out in the open.

The reason is because putting our faith in guards will not bring real peace and security. No good has ever come from putting up signs that say &uot;keep out&uot; or building walls that separate people; they create suspicion on both sides and resentment among those on the outside. Getting along with people who aren’t like us isn’t always easy, but the long-term health of our communities depends on those relationships being strengthened, not weakened.

(David Rask Behling is a rural Albert Lea resident. His column appears Tuesdays.)