I Failed Aleppo and So Did You
“Compassion hurts…You must either learn to carry the Universe or be crushed by it. You must grow strong enough to love the world, yet empty enough to sit down at the same table with its worst horrors.” This is one of my favorite quotes and having decided to spend my career working on humanitarian issues, it is particularly relevant. It is so hard not to take my work home with me, not to let the worst parts of the world hold on too tight, and to constantly remind myself to love the world. It is a work in progress — some days I am better than others.
The hardest days are when I realize that we hear people calling for help and we ignore them. I experienced a case of this an one evening about a month after I had moved to Washington D.C. It was late September and I was living with my aunt an hour outside of the city. I had spent the day at a Congressional hearing on Syria’s humanitarian crisis where some of the smartest minds in the field explained that civilian protection in Syria was critical and that we were massively underprepared to respond to a siege on Aleppo. They predicted that we, the international community, would face a whole new set of challenges when the siege struck. In September they pleaded for immediate action.
That evening, I headed to a fellow activist and friend’s house after work. Together we watched the White Helmets documentary on Netflix. Once again I heard Syrians in Aleppo and across the country begging for attention from the international community. They said they didn’t want the prestige or to be heroes. They simply wanted to go back to their lives before the war where they were normal citizens. They wanted peace and a chance at a future for themselves and their children. As the documentary concluded, I felt the cynicism and the frustration sneaking in.
I took the 1-hour train back to the suburbs. I made it back to my car and began to cry big, heaving, unrelenting tears. I was crying for Syria and inaction. I was crying because my worldview is built on the inherent belief that people are good and that they will help when the time comes. I was crying because I felt that no matter how loud I shouted, no matter how many protests I attended, petitions I signed, meetings I led, or donations I made the people of Syria would still be murdered.
In the months since that night, I have been both a good activist and a bad activist. I’ve had days where the work followed me home and days where I managed to simultaneously love the world and sit down with the worst of it. And all the while, the threat against Syrian civilians worsened.
I advocated Congress, I made calls, and I signed petitions for Syria. But here’s the hard truth: I did not do enough. This is not a call for reassurance but rather an admission of failure. I did not do enough for Aleppo and neither did you. We knew this was coming.
Now more than ever we cannot hide our inaction in the shadows of ignorance. We saw the pictures of Omran caked in blood, we watched little Aylan’s body wash ashore in Turkey, we read as a 7-year old Bana live tweeted from a war zone. We cannot deny that we knew this was coming.
I harbored hope that if the crisis was bad enough, if enough children died, if enough hospitals were bombed, if enough refugees fled — then our governments would do something. But Syria has taught us that in some cases, no matter how outrageous the human rights violations, our governments will not intervene. Aleppo is showing us that no matter how much warning they receive or how many cries for help they are hearing, our leaders (looking at you Obama) are deciding that a Syrian life is not of value.
Collectively, we will live with the knowledge that the lives of innocent civilians living in Syria were not large enough of a priority for us to demand action from our governments. But we have made peace with this guilt before. In fact, we are quite good at it. For decades we have lived with our bystandership as survivors buried the bodies in Darfur, Congo, CAR, Iraq, Rwanda, Bosnia, Cambodia, and so many other places. We have become complacent with the international toleration of blatant violations of international law and individuals’ right to life. In the aftermath we murmur our apologies of “never again.” This is not good enough.
If you are angry about Aleppo, if you feel guilty about Aleppo, if your heart is breaking as you watch images of dying children flash across the screen — good. Hold on to that. Don’t give in to the desire to repress it. Don’t move on to the next thing. Compassion hurts. Embrace it. Then act. Capitalize on all these emotions and turn empty apologies to Syrians into action. Demand that your leaders let refugees into your country. Demand that your country uphold the ceasefire and the safe evacuation of civilians and humanitarians. Donate what you can afford. Volunteer what time you have.
We are currently at a critical juncture. We must sit down at the table with the worst horrors of humanity, stare them down, and choose love.
What You Can Do:
- Sign this petition to the White House
- Donate to one of these organizations
- Use the hashtag #StandWithAleppo to find demonstrations in your area
- Call your representatives and express your support for humanitarian aid and the continued evacuation of Aleppo
- Call your governor’s office and tell them you support more Syrian refugees coming to your state
- Get educated about the crisis in Syria here, here, and here
