Darfur: Never Again? Or Again, and Again?

I was engaged in an academic debate recently -“Should the International Community militarily intervene in Darfur?” For me, it was an unequivocal, “Yes!!”

It is that time again in the journey of mankind. The one we call the “greatest humanitarian crisis”, “ a terrible mass atrocity” or some such pitiful phrase. The last century had plenty. We shook our heads. Leaders, lawyers and diplomats pontificated.

Rwanda: What Do You See?

“The dead at Nyarubuye were, I’m afraid, beautiful. There was no getting around it. The skeleton is a beautiful thing. The randomness of the fallen forms, the strange tranquillity of their rude exposure, the skull here, the arm bent in some uninterpretable gesture there–these things were beautiful, and their beauty only added to the affront of the place. I couldn’t settle on any meaningful response: revulsion, alarm, sorrow, grief, shame, incomprehension, sure, but nothing truly meaningful.”

-Philip Gourevitch (We Wish to Inform You That Tomorrow We Will Be Killed With Our Families: Stories from Rwanda)

I haven’t been to Rwanda – but I have seen the pictures, read the words, and jotted a few myself. No, I am not confused. Probably because I haven’t been there. Probably because I haven’t accidentally scrunched a bone under my feet, nor have I been assaulted by rows of skulls cracked open, or the bewildered eyes of those who live today.

The words and pictures of Rwanda’s genocide, overwhelm me with an angry sorrow.

Home! Home. Home?

Me, Ma, Maiji, Dadabhai, Rini. Photo Credit: Buddhadeva Raychoudhury, 1978.

July, 1987. I was 16. I was leaving home. The only home I had known till then. A small house in Raurkela. A small town in Eastern India, whose name literally means ‘home’.

I was moving to a wonderful school in a wonderful city, Kolkata, while my parents were moving to a far-from-great town, with far-from-great schools. To this day, I can feel, so clearly, in my throat – a dryness and constriction, and in my eyes – some paralyzed tears, and a diminishing vision.

e diminishing car, that had my father at the wheel, and my mother, who leaned out and kept a smiling front, “Bhalo theyko. Bhalo korey kheyeyo (Be well. Eat well.)”

Despite starting a promising new curriculum, in one of the nation’s finest schools of my choice, my world fell apart. With my family split between four cities, there would never again be a time in my life when we would share the same space as home.

Helter Skelter, Gimme Shelter

In my self-imposed, semi-displaced state, between homes, between a long, gainfully employed past, and an uncertain future, I often find myself thinking about the displaced around the world.dis·place /[dis-pleys]
–verb (used with object), -placed, -plac·ing.
1. to compel (a person or persons) to leave home, country, etc.
2. to move or put out of the usual or proper place.

Displacement-physical or mental, free or forced, personal or communal, internal or cross border-tear at us, and those that we leave behind.

Does Death Become The End?

2,998 lives were lost in the attacks on 9/11.
Nearly 660,000 lives are estimated to be lost as a direct result of the War On Terror.

That’s nearly 220 lives paying for every life lost in the 9/11 attacks.

I don’t question the horror of 9/11. I remember watching the towers, with growing numbness, as they crumbled on that fateful day. I remember frantically trying to get in touch with my friends in New York. Neither do I question the terror brought by Saddam. History is fraught with rulers, who “built” the nation up at human cost.

But does the knowledge that each life lost in 9/11 is being paid for by 220 additional ones (and counting) due to the War On Terror, bring closure for those who mourn their loss? Does the speedy execution of an unrepentant Saddam, bring closure for those who survive the atrocities that he wasn’t even sentenced for? Does bringing terror to supposedly liberate the world from terror not count as a crime against humanity? Or are crimes against humanity judged by who kills and who dies?

Just as we look back on our lives this past year, I started looking back on the events that lead up to this shocking ratio.