THIS past few days have been dominated by the events of September 11, 2001, the day when the world's only superpower, and supposedly impregnable, was brought to its knees by 19 Islamic terrorists - or martyrs, depending on whose side you are on.

The attack on the twin towers remains indelibly etched on the minds of those directly involved, either through having been there and somehow survived, or having lost loved ones. The effect on people worldwide, who watched the horror unfold on television, while considerably less traumatic, was renewed by recurring flashbacks screened this week.

America, being a colossus, wasn't grounded for long. The lessons of Pearl Harbour should have been ingested by its enemies. Once you attack a slumbering giant, and deal it a supposedly mortal blow, the consequences can be pretty drastic, should the leviathan recover. Ask the Japanese. In the aftermath of 9/11, George Bush launched his "War On Terror", which Tony Blair supported, first with rhetoric and then Britain's military. It has been spectacularly unsuccessful. Osama Bin Laden is still alive, taunting George W with his video messages.

The Middle East, particularly Iraq, is a terrible mess. As is Afghanistan. And we have it on very good authority that disaffected young, British-born Muslims are preparing more attacks, similar to London 7/7.

The question put by all the principal commentators on the 9/11 memorial programmes I watched was: "Do you feel safer now than you did five years ago in the immediate aftermath of the attack on New York?" Mr Blair, for one, would surely answer in the negative as he is on the hit list of members of his own government.

His fall from messiah to pariah is an object lesson in just how dirty a game politics is. History is littered with similar examples and Blair is merely the latest to learn a savage lesson about "loyalty". He will go with the stench of failure, particularly over Iraq, in his nostrils.

Personally I found the question about safety difficult to answer. If I feared being blown up every time I entered a supermarket or large store, pub or club, or got on a train or bus, then I would never leave my home. Most, if not all of us, accept that life must go on, irrespective. So we get on with it.

However, those employed in the emergency services must wonder what the future holds. One, a New York fireman, interviewed on the anniversary of 9/11, was philosophical, saying the specialist training he and his colleagues had received prepared them for further terrorist atrocities. "It's a different world," was his phlegmatic remark.

Meanwhile, in the real world, people have more pressing matters. Take Ashley Cole, for example. The Chelsea and England footballer, in a just-released book, speaks of his anger and downright disgust that Arsenal, his former employers, who had nurtured him from academy to international status, had offered him a niggardly £30,000 rise, taking his pay packet to £55,000 a week, instead of the £60,000 he wanted. That probably represents what a fireman earns in two years.

Who would you rather have racing to your assistance in the event of another 9/11 or 7/7? Ashley? I think not.