On the ‘Safe Zone’ proposal.
Upon hearing the recommendation of some of our world’s leaders on the creation of a safe zone somewhere other than here, I was immediately appalled by the mere ignorance of them on how far from the truth regarding basic human nature they are, at least how they present themselves to be, purposefully maybe, forgetting that these immigrants, these scam of the earth, these devils, these terrorists, these black holes that destroy economies, that destroy societies, that destroy our values, are, wait for it, actual people, yes people that belong to families, fathers and mothers, sons and daughters, and not sacks of potatoes which can be thrown in a room not caring if they rot. Note, that after some time the rotten smell that comes from the fermentation of starch will not be contained no matter how many air fresheners you spray. Before we spent millions of tax payers money on another failed project that will soon rot, and subsequently boost the industry of air fresheners, no matter how many, or how safe a zone will be, families will never voluntary make the choice to go there and if they do, it will only be for a short while. What we should seek, is a long-term and sustainable solution for the host countries, and for the purpose of this reflection, not the rights of the people that will immigrate but the fact that people will immigrate, no matter what. The problem behind the proposal? It is not based on reason but an emotional back-lash, and decisions that can, and will last for a long time, and its effects even longer, need to be considered without the slightest emotion, and require the depletion of all our mental faculties. I have to admit that after hearing of the Paris attacks, I too had a an emotional with full of anger response, and for a second the terrorists had won, but only for a second. I had stated that It’s time for countries to put aside human rights and impose extreme measures, and without the slightest doubt support them, whatever those measures may be. What a horrible and immature thing to say, and yet, even I, which I consider myself to be a reasonable person, fell. That second of emotional response is important, a politician is not allowed to have that, not even a millisecond of that, and if he has, he needs to keep it to himself and not influence his decisions. Policies that are abrupt, based not on facts and reason have a high probability of failure since they don’t consider all the variables that require considering, as in this case, the politicians do not consider all the reasons why a family would flee their war ridden home. We speak of it in a such a light manner. The word ‘home’ thrown here and there form mouth to mouth. Yes, their home. I can’t imagine having to make a decision like that, or that decision made for you. I’ve heard the stories, we’ve all heard them. The situation in Syria hits close to home. It wasn’t long ago that our grandparents and parents had to abandon their homes. Some of them stayed, some of them left. There wasn’t a single day that I could not see the longing in my grandmother’s eyes. There is no worse thing than an uprooted family. Why would a family go there? The only variable that the safe zone considers is death, actually their fear of death. Yes, it is human nature, by all means to escape death today for a death tomorrow, even if it will be a thousand times more excruciating, but what a drives a family to travel to the ends of the world is not only fear, upon shallow examination yes it may seem so, yes, but, what lies in the back of their minds while on this dangerous and uncertain journey is not death, or fear of it, but the opposite of it, life. Yes life. The right for a full life, a dream, a memory of a once normal life that is slowly becoming distorted. They are hungry, they are thirsty, the salt water is drying their lips, they won’t stop, they swim to shore, swim, swim. I can’t imagine the relief of their legs heavy on the sand, their children passing from consciousness to unconsciousness. Are they alive or are they dead? A family will embark on a harrowing journey just for a glimpse for a full life, a happy life. An immigrant father is a father like every father. He wants what is best for his wife, for his son, for his daughter, and for him, the mother too, immigrant children have dreams too, they dream to become something, they dream to have friends, they dream to change the world, they dream to achieve what their parents did, or what they did not, and they will pursue that dream, that glimpse, even if it means knocking on every possible door.