When the towers fell on that Tuesday morning in September, the world stopped. Everything felt different. For the people who make a living by poking fun at the world—the editorial cartoonists—the pens suddenly felt a lot heavier. Honestly, how do you draw a "funny" picture when nearly 3,000 people just vanished? You don't. Or, at least, you didn't for a while.
Most folks remember the immediate aftermath as a blur of flags and unity. But if you look back at the political cartoons about 9/11 from that first week, you see a community of artists struggling in real-time. They were trying to find a visual language for a grief that felt bottomless.
The Day the Satire Died (Temporarily)
In the days right after the attacks, satire basically went into hiding. It felt gross to be snarky. Instead, the newspapers were filled with what some critics later called "weeping Lady Liberties." You know the ones. The Statue of Liberty burying her face in her hands. An American Eagle with a tear rolling down its beak. Uncle Sam with a bandaged head but a determined look in his eye.
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These weren't really "political" in the sense of debating policy. They were memorializing. They were visual eulogies.
Cartoonists like Mike Luckovich of the Atlanta Journal-Constitution captured this perfectly. He drew a close-up of the Statue of Liberty's eyes, and in the reflection of her pupils, you could see the burning towers. It was simple. It was brutal. It didn't need a punchline because there wasn't one.
The All-Black Cover That Said Everything
The New Yorker usually has these whimsical, arty covers. Not that week. Art Spiegelman and Françoise Mouly created what is probably the most famous piece of 9/11 art. At first glance, the cover looked completely black. Just a void. But if you held it up to the light or looked closely, you could see the silhouettes of the Twin Towers—black on black.
It reflected the "sudden absence in our skyline," as Mouly later put it. It was a visual representation of a ghost.
When the Gloves Came Off
The "honeymoon" period of unity didn't last forever. It couldn't. Pretty soon, the questions started. Why didn't we see it coming? What happens to our civil liberties now?
By late September 2001, artists like Chip Bok were already pointing fingers at intelligence failures. He drew cartoons questioning why the U.S. was caught off guard despite the 1993 WTC bombing and the USS Cole attack.
Then things got spicy. Dennis Draughon drew a two-panel piece. Panel one: "Terrorism," showing the towers. Panel two: "Counter-Terrorism," showing a member of Congress burning a document labeled "Civil Liberties." That was a gutsy move in a country that was currently draped in flags.
The Cartoons That Got People Fired (or Almost)
Not everyone was ready for the snark to return. Honestly, some people are still sensitive about it twenty years later.
Take Mike Marland. About five months after the attacks, he drew a cartoon about Social Security. He depicted President George W. Bush piloting a plane labeled "Bush Budget" into two towers labeled "Social" and "Security."
The backlash was instant and massive. People were livid. They saw it as a "desecration" of the memory of the victims. Marland's editor had to apologize, and the artist ended up destroying the original artwork. It was a clear sign that the WTC silhouette had become a sacred, "do not touch" image for anything unrelated to the actual event.
The Boondocks and the "Thanksgiving Blessing"
Then there was Aaron McGruder, the creator of The Boondocks. He wasn't interested in the "weeping eagle" vibe. In his Thanksgiving 2001 strip, his character Huey Freeman offers a "blessing" that basically called out the U.S. for its own past foreign policy blunders.
Several newspapers yanked the strip. Some editors called it "un-American." It sparked a massive debate about whether editorial cartoonists had a duty to be "patriotic" or a duty to be critical.
The Graphic Novel Shift
It wasn't just single panels in the Sunday paper. The world of comics took a deep dive into the tragedy too.
- The 9/11 Commission Report: A Graphic Adaptation: This is a wild project by Ernie Colón and Sid Jacobson. They took a dry, 500-page government document and turned it into a visual narrative. It used timelines and bird's-eye views to explain the "how" and "why" of the day.
- In the Shadow of No Towers: Art Spiegelman (the Maus guy) created this large-format book. It’s messy, paranoid, and brilliant. It captures the "collective anxiety" of living in Lower Manhattan after the attacks. He even drew himself as a "Happy Hooligan" character getting kicked out of a TV studio for saying the "wrong" things about America.
- Marvel's "The Black Issue": Even Spider-Man got involved. The Amazing Spider-Man #36 featured a black cover and showed superheroes standing side-by-side with FDNY and NYPD officers at Ground Zero. It was a way of saying that in the face of real tragedy, fictional heroes take a backseat to real ones.
What Most People Get Wrong About 9/11 Cartoons
A lot of folks think that these cartoons were all about "rah-rah" patriotism. That's a huge misconception. While the first week was definitely somber, the medium quickly returned to its roots: being a pain in the neck for people in power.
Cartoonists were some of the first to start asking about the Patriot Act, the buildup to the Iraq War, and the treatment of prisoners at Guantanamo Bay. They used the imagery of 9/11—the smoke, the rubble, the towers—to frame these new debates.
[Image showing the evolution of 9/11 cartoon themes from mourning to political critique]
Why They Still Matter Today
We live in a world of memes now. But a well-crafted political cartoon has a weight that a "distracted boyfriend" meme just doesn't. These 9/11 drawings are historical artifacts. They show us exactly how the national mood shifted from "we are all one" to "what are we doing in Afghanistan?" in the span of a few months.
They also remind us that free speech is messy. Sometimes a cartoon is "too soon." Sometimes it's offensive. But in a democracy, the right of a guy with a pen to draw a president flying a plane into "Social Security" is part of the deal. Even if it makes everyone mad.
Actionable Insights: How to Engage with This History
If you're looking to understand the legacy of 9/11 through art, don't just look at the statues and memorials. Look at the ink.
- Visit the Library of Congress Online: They have a massive "Witness and Response" collection. It features original drawings from Ann Telnaes, Tony Auth, and Kevin Kallaugher. Seeing the original pen strokes makes it feel much more human.
- Read "In the Shadow of No Towers": If you want to feel the raw, shaky nerves of a New Yorker who lived through it, this is the book. It's not a comfortable read, but it's an honest one.
- Check the Anniversary Editions: Every five or ten years, major papers like the New York Times or Washington Post do retrospectives of their editorial art. It's a great way to see how the "visual shorthand" for 9/11 has changed as the event moves from "current news" to "history."
- Support Editorial Cartoonists: The industry is struggling. Many papers are firing their staff artists and using syndicated work. If you value this kind of "visual conscience" for the country, support the outlets that still employ full-time cartoonists.
The ink on those 2001 drawings is long dry, but the questions they raised—about power, grief, and where the line of "decency" is drawn—are still being debated today.