Idlib under fire
Three years ago yesterday we woke up to the news that the final bus of evacuees was leaving Aleppo. The last doctor, Dr Hamza and his wife Waad Al Kateeb and their baby along with other aid workers who had hung on to the end would be transferred to the north of Syria. It felt like a small victory. But of the bitterest sort -- revolutionary heroes who had saved countless lives were being forcibly displaced from their bombed out homes. At least they were alive.
In the months leading up to this, through the brutal siege of Aleppo, every waking minute was filled with scrambling to get grainy videos of doctors and rescue workers pleading for any intervention to save lives. Days of endless pitching to the BBC, CNN, The Guardian -- anywhere that would tell the world what was happening.
The belief, or 'theory of change' as donors would call it was always roughly the same:if the world knew what was happening it would be moved to stop it. That all the promises of never again, all the declaration of rights and UN resolutions meant something -- that we stand together to defend people from state aggression. For me this belief died in Aleppo.
Syrians have told their stories in Oscar winning films, at UN conferences, on the front-pages of every newspaper and in best-selling books. Myself and so many better and greater people spent years doing all we could to support Syrians telling stories of what was happening. Over time it involved endless concessions to what we were told the world needed to see: more children, more heroes, more human stories. Yet as a young Muslim-British poet said recently "if you need me to prove my humanity it is not I that is not human."
Three years later, we are seeing the same Russian and Syrian jets that destroyed Aleppo rain down terror in Idlib. 25,000 have been forced to flee their homes in the last few days, some in trucks, some on foot, all are being targeted as they flee. I don't know what happens next. Those fleeing are heading towards an increasingly over-crowded area of Idlib with scant aid, shelter and no protection from attacks. It is hell on earth.
While the social accounts of Syrian groups have been filled with urgent pleas the world seems to be paying little attention. I saw a Facebook post this week of a conversation between a Syrian and a journalist, I don't know it's origin, if it is real, I don't think it matters.
The journalist: what’s new?
Killing of innocent civilians, displacement, indiscriminate attacks, targeting rescue workers, hospitals, markets
The journalist: what’s new?
The UN is silent, the world is careless
The journalist: what’s new?
We won’t give up calling for justice
The Journalist: I wish I can help
Thanks, will call you again when death toll reaches 500 in one day
Governments have been tweeting calls for action from the 'international community'. Seemingly oblivious to the fact they are the ones that can act. The best hacked metaphor I think of is a group of firefighters standing at a blaze saying to each other: 'someone should put this out'. Oh Syria, you deserve so much better than this.
The legal concept of protection of civilians from states is less than 100 years old. I don't believe we can let it die in Syria. I hope that as old orders collapse we can build better ones. Institutions that can protect the very people they should.
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Two days after the last bus drove out of Aleppo on Christmas morning I went to a Quaker meeting as my Mum is a member. In Quaker meetings there is no Minister, rather friends (as they call themselves) can minister to each other by sharing thoughts when they feel moved. After about half an hour of a silent meeting I found myself sharing the story of Dr Hamza and Waad and their baby. At that time I only knew them as people in videos but I needed to tell their stories.
After that meeting I learnt that a core component of the Quaker faith in action is the idea of bearing witness to injustice is a way of practicing their faith and a direct expression of it. Whether or not you can change the outcome it is important to witness it, to stand in solidarity. I am not a Quaker but I believe in this, in the simple solidarity of bearing witness.
I don't know how to best support Syrians as an ally anymore. I don't how many more photos the world needs to see of kids being bombed to act.
I deeply believe that in Syria we have seen the collapse of the world we knew, or thought we did in ways we don't even understand yet. I am so sorry for the cost of this failure to every Syrian.
So for now, we do all we can to bear witness to what is happening in Idlib - to raise our voices, share the stories and never ever turn away. And we do what we can to build a world fit for humans.