Blood On Our Hands

We hear the word. Aleppo. It’s been in our consciousness, and it’s back. Executions of civilians— people like us. Unaccompanied children trapped and under attack—children like our own. We hear their cries for help on Twitter. We watch a civil war raging, and witness civilians being slaughtered.

Yesterday, evacuations finally began (mostly of civilians) but, then abruptly stopped before the estimated 50,000 – 150,000 people trapped in eastern Aleppo could escape. On its face, such evacuations sounded promising, until you realize that most evacuees were taken to another war zone, Idlib, a neighboring province where airstrikes by Syrian regime supporters have been causing more death.

When will the bloodshed end? When will our capacity for compassion reach across the oceans? To people who may be different from us? In their faith, their country of origin and their color?

The answer is that war and the humanitarian crisis will not end in Aleppo or Idlib, until we find a way to see. We have lost the power to bear witness and we are paying the price.

To start, we need to stop looking up to take note only when things get really bad—and then for only a brief moment before we get distracted. Such voyeurism is part of a global pattern that fuels atrocities and inhuman conflicts like Aleppo. Numbness to horror prevents us from bearing witness. And the failure to see actually prevents action. Our frightening truth is that for many reasons, but often from sheer numbness, we have not been vigilant in demanding more from our leaders. Diplomatic condemnations have failed Aleppo, and real people trying to live their lives have died.

We can’t change that past. But starting today we can act by bearing witness and committing not to look away. Once we do that, we can find ways to respond.

We are not helpless. All of us can do something.

We can begin by resisting fear, practicing open-mindedness and taking positive action. Some may prefer going public and exerting individual and collective pressure on our elected officials and the White House to demand safe passage for evacuees. Others may opt to proactively stand for particular policies that help those fleeing Aleppo find safe homes. We can all counter stereotypes and misinformation like the stereotypes conflating refugees with Islam (and an entire global religion with terrorism), and disinformation that derides the careful vetting process for refugees used by the U.S. Such clarity is needed. Otherwise, dangerous mindsets will establish ill-conceived policies.

Some people will support efforts like the Multifaith Alliance for Syrian Refugees incubated by Tanenbaum or the on-the-ground work of peacebuilders—like Tanenbaum Peacemaker Hind Kabawat, who returned to work with people from her Syrian homeland to provide training in conflict transformation and support in refugee camps, and later joined the High Negotiations Committee to seek peace for her shattered country. (And by the way, she’s still at it, working for her country.)

And still others will welcome refugees into our neighborhoods and help them find employment, a place to live and a moment of quiet. Some will create interfaith community groups or volunteer at schools to mentor children and youth from different religious, cultural or economic backgrounds. There is much we can do.

But before we can make a difference, we have to start paying attention. The Battle of Aleppo began in 2012 and has killed over 31,000 people, and likely many more. Whether we like it or not, that means there’s blood on our hands. Unless we open our eyes and hearts to Aleppo today, tomorrow’s bloodbath will be as well.

Joyce S. DubenskyTanenbaum CEO