The Genocidal Stain

The Syrian Genocide: A gruesome collection of images of dead bodies taken by a photographer, who has been identified by the code name "Caesar," displayed at the United Nations Headquarters in New York, March 10, 2015. LUCAS JACKSON/REUTERS
The Syrian Genocide: A gruesome collection of images of dead bodies taken by a photographer, who has been identified by the code name “Caesar,” displayed at the United Nations Headquarters in New York, March 10, 2015. LUCAS JACKSON/REUTERS

This is the 21st century and yet, somehow, we still need to remind ourselves that genocide is wrong, that it is not an acceptable tool to achieve a certain geopolitical end, real or perceived, and that no country or government is entitled to engage in it without consequences and while shielding itself using terms like “domestic affairs” and “national sovereignty.”  It’s disgusting that we still need to debate whether intervention meant to prevent or stop genocide is “wise.”

But there you go. We still have to say this. We still have to debate that. This is still who we are: fucked-up, forlorn, and pitiful. Centuries continue to unfold, and we keep repeating the same fucking mistakes, and we keep regurgitating the same justifications for them. We are reaching farther and farther into outer space, while still incapable of navigating the inner one. What kind of guidance will it take for us to accept and do the morally obvious, when so much is at stake, and when those who warned and admonished us in the name of God, Satan and our own battered sense of humanity have all failed to move us? Seeing how often we failed in overcoming this challenge, in doing the right thing, I cannot but chalk our continued survival to an accident of fate.