A Cry of Despair and an Unheeded Warning

To walk through the gates at the infamous Birkenau II death camp in Poland is to follow the footsteps of around 1.5 million murdered human beings who were deemed to be “undesirable” by a perverse political movement that had lost its mind. To see the hair of the inhabitants of the camp, shaved off upon their arrival and used to create sleeping bags and clothing for Nazi officers, or the little shoes of the thousands of children, barely old enough to walk, gassed because they were too weak to work, or the urn of ashes of just some of those that were wiped from history on this desolate piece of ground, is to witness the depths of what humans can do to one another. This is us at our very worst. And the overwhelming question that burns throughout the journey into the darkness is simply how? How could we have let this happen?

The monument in Auschwitz-Birkenau to the 1.5 million people murdered in its grounds begins “For ever let this place be a cry of despair and a warning to humanity”. And yet this is a warning we have not heeded.

After the scale of the horrors of the Holocaust became clear, the international community was unequivocal in its condemnation. Never again. Since 1945 we have witnessed the “killing fields” of Cambodia claim 2 million lives, the vicious massacre of 800,000 Tutsis in Rwanda decimate a whole country, over 8,000 souls murdered whilst under UN “protection” at Srebrenica in Bosnia-Herzegovina, and the systematic murder of over 300,000 civilians in Darfur. Today, over 1 million Rohingya people have been and continue to be forced out of their homes in Myanmar by the ruthless military regime. The phenomenon of identity-based mass murder, in the forms of crimes against humanity, ethnic cleansing, and genocide, is ubiquitous across the globe. And still we say never again.

Seeing first-hand the mechanisms by which the Holocaust was perpetrated is a shocking reminder of the efficiency with which humans are capable of killing each other. But it should not be a viewed simply as a horror of our past. The camp at Auschwitz-Birkenau was the logical conclusion of years of systematic marginalisation and dehumanisation of the Jewish people in Europe by the Nazi party. When Hitler rose to power in 1933 the idea of a death-camp run by German soldiers in Poland was laughable. But by May 1940 it was sickening reality.

As Philip Gourevitch writes in his excellent, if harrowing, account of the Rwandan genocide We Wish to Inform You that Tomorrow we will be Killed with our Families, “What distinguishes genocide from murder, and even from acts of political murder that claim as many victims, is the intent. The crime is wanting to make a people extinct. The idea is the crime”. The idea is the crime. The so-called “inhuman” violence witnessed in countless crimes against humanity perpetrated globally is the product of an idea that has festered and spread among a population. One of the biggest questions following the Rwandan genocide, where there were no death camps but rather the killing was done with machetes by mobs in the streets, was how on earth it was possible to seemingly turn an entire population against one another over the course of just a few short weeks.

But the Rwandan Genocide did not occur just between the 7^th April and 15^th July 1994, in which the majority of the killing took place. Intergroup rivalry between Hutus and Tutsis had been instilled in the population by the German and Belgian colonial powers over 100 years before the massacres of 1994. These tensions were exacerbated by economic hardship and an increasingly inflammatory political landscape that culminated in a civil conflict between 1990 and 1993. The process of turning Tutsi people from neighbours, friends, and family members, into “cockroaches” and “tall trees” took decades. The process of dehumanisation, of turning a Jewish person into a “rat”, or innocent Bosnian civilians at Srebrenica into “hardened and violent criminals”, does not occur overnight. You do not pick up a machete and murder your neighbour after hearing a news broadcast telling you to do so. The thoughtcrime of identity-based violence is far more insidious than that.

So when you hear Donald Trump equating economic migrants at the US-Mexico border with criminal gangs and “animals”, or Nigel Farage standing in front of his infamous “Breaking Point” campaign billboard, depicting refugees and migrants as a looming existential threat to the UK, remember that this is a deliberate incitement to hatred. Left unchecked, that becomes an incitement to violence. Indeed, with the Christchurch mosque attacker citing Trump as a “symbol of renewed white identity and common purpose” in his manifesto, and a shocking increase in white extremist hate crimes across the US and Europe since 2015, it would appear that the more volatile and antagonistic political landscape we find ourselves in is already having destructive consequences.

In the UK, attacks on politicians have increased amidst the increasingly toxic debate surrounding Brexit. The murder of Jo Cox in 2016 appears to have heralded a new dawn of violence aimed at those with differing views. When two of the biggest political scandals in party politics concern accusations of anti-Semitism within the Labour Party and Islamophobia within the Conservatives, we have to ask ourselves where political discourse in this country is headed. Toxic identity politics are not new. We have been here before.

The monument at the death-camp of Auschwitz-Birkenau undoubtedly elicits a cry of despair from those who visit. But as a warning, it appears to have been less successful. It is up to every single one of us to pay attention to the stories of those who have been persecuted solely because of who they are. Because its very easy to say “never again”, and to genuinely feel it and to mean it. But it has happened again, and it is happening again, and it will continue to happen again unless we make a change.

The world around us has already taken its first baby steps down a dark road that we have walked a hundred times before. There is still time to divert our course, but it will take every individual person to pay attention to what is happening and to call out the behaviours that push us further down the path. Calling out this hatred now, while it is still relatively safe to do so, is the only way to prevent the physical crime from occurring down the line.

In visiting Krakow, I also heard the inspirational stories of Oskar Schindler and Tadeusz Pankiewicz, who saved many lives and gave hope to thousands of people in the ghetto at the time of the Nazi occupation. But they risked their lives, their livelihoods, and the lives of their families in order to do so. That kind of heroism is rare and extremely commendable. Those names should be remembered and celebrated to the same extent that Hitler’s, Eichmann’s, and Rudolf Hess’ names are remembered. But even those acts of incredible courage and strength could not turn the tide of history. By that point it was too late.

Right now, it is not too late.

Little changes now can prevent catastrophic ones later.

Never again.

“Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it.” – George Santayana.

Cyclone Idai and the Importance of Public Health Preparation

Cyclone Idai devastated Mozambique, Zimbabwe, Malawi, and Madagascar as it tore a path through South-Eastern Africa between the 4^th and 21^st March 2019. It was one of the worst cyclones ever to affect the southern hemisphere, with an estimated 1.7 million people directly affected by the storm and over $1 billion in damage caused. Flooding in the immediate aftermath caused the majority of deaths in Mozambique and Zimbabwe, and the overwhelming destruction led to a revised appeal on behalf of IFRC to cover the cost of the immense scale of the response.

Although the flood waters have now long subsided, the true magnitude of the disaster is still yet to be fully understood. Recent reports from agencies active on the ground in Beira, one of the worst-affected areas, have raised concerns over the potential for tremendous health crises in Idai’s wake.

Cases of cholera were reported in Beira just a week after Idai made landfall, as a result of water being contaminated by sewage in the flooding. By 4^th April, there were an estimated 4,000 cases of cholera in and around Beira, resulting in at least 7 deaths. Medecins sans Frontieres reported an estimated 200 new cases per day at the height of the response, with the Red Cross describing the threat of further outbreaks as a “ticking bomb”. Though cholera currently appears to be the biggest health threat to victims of Idai, a severe lack of clean drinking water means threats of typhoid and other diarrheal diseases remain high. The stagnant flood water also acts as a prime breeding ground for mosquitoes and other vectors, leading to an increased risk of malaria, which has seen 276 new cases reported in Mozambique as of 2^nd April.

These emerging health crises have been exacerbated by the massive damage to infrastructure in Beira and other severely affected areas. Beira’s main hospital suffered serious damage in the storm, leaving several of its operating theatres unusable, and an estimated 55 other health centres across Mozambique were affected. International NGOs and the World Health Organisation have responded quickly to try to plug the gaps, with the WHO distributing nearly 900,000 cholera vaccines and MSF doubling down on its programmes in the affected region, but the spiralling health implications of Idai are simply too large to contain completely.

As the recent Preventionweb report on Idai’s health consequences reports, the interruption of health services for communicable and non-communicable diseases is another major concern in affected communities. Mozambique has around 2.1 million HIV patients, many in hard-to-reach communities that may no longer have access to antiretroviral drugs. Similarly, those who require medications for long-standing diseases such as hypertension, diabetes, and tuberculosis are facing medical shortages. The World Health Organisation, alongside many other international actors, are also increasingly focusing their attention on the treatment of the mental health consequences of disasters, which can have catastrophic effects on the development and resilience of affected communities.

The longer-term health implications of Idai are proving to be more destructive than the storm itself. The spiralling risk of epidemics, dramatic loss of health infrastructure in-country, and poorly understood mental health effects of a disaster like Idai demonstrate the importance of viewing disaster response through a public health lens. Medical assistance is one of the key life-saving priorities both in the immediate response phase and as affected populations start to rebuild their lives. Effective health and sanitation programmes make the difference between a one-off destructive natural event and a protracted, complex humanitarian crisis.

But as the scramble to find increased funds to meet the needs of the population also shows, a key focus for the future of disaster management needs to be in preparation and prevention, rather than in response. The speed with which the WHO was able to distribute almost 900,000 cholera vaccines was possible thanks to the Oral Cholera Vaccine Stockpile, administered by an international coordinating group and organised in preparation for quick response in areas at risk of epidemic. Around the world, hospitals and health providers are developing emergency preparedness plans to ensure they are able to continue working during and after a crisis. As the humanitarian sector more widely continues to acknowledge the importance of preparation in ensuring effective response, the factors that contribute to a resilient health system in developing countries must take priority.

IFRC estimates that for every $1 spent on preparation, up to $4 can be saved in recovery. The almost unprecedented fury of Cyclone Idai helped to demonstrate the snowball implications of a hazard that strikes an unprepared community. Building resilience to future disasters does not just mean building stronger structures (though that is obviously extremely important), but developing strategies to cope with disasters at a local level, implementing preparedness plans, engaging in health education and ensuring that at-risk communities know what to expect and where to go to get help in the event of a crisis, long before it occurs.

With climate change increasing the likelihood of more frequent and more destructive weather patterns globally, the need to make sure that everybody is prepared becomes increasingly pressing. When a system is vulnerable to disaster, threats can multiply exponentially. A compromised healthcare system has knock-on effects on those who may not have been affected by the initial event itself.

Disaster response must focus on long-term resilience as well as immediate life-saving care. It is not easy, but building long-term resilience will save money, time, and ultimately lives.

Building local communities’ resilience to disasters is a key focus of the Agenda for Humanity and of the Sendai Framework for Disaster Risk Reduction. Viewing disasters through a holistic lens can help to identify vulnerabilities to be addressed, and also potential partnerships between sectors to tackle complex crises around the world.

QSAND is a shelter and settlement sustainability tool that provides a holistic framework to support resilient reconstruction following disasters.

LA 92 - Fighting a Cycle of Injustice

LA 92 is a National Geographic documentary covering the devastating Los Angeles riots that left 63 dead and over 2,000 injured, with more than $1 billion of damage done to properties across LA county between April 29^th and May 4^th 1992. The riots began as a response to the acquittal of 4 LAPD officers accused of excessive force in the arrest and beating of Rodney King, and the leniency in judgement afforded to a Korean shop owner who shot and killed a 16-year-old girl, Latasha Harlins, whom she wrongly suspected of attempting to rob her. The systematic and institutionalised racism this revealed in the heart of the justice system sparked angry protests, which swiftly degenerated into violent racially-motivated attacks against residents of Koreatown and white motorists on the intersection of Florence and Normandie, and widespread looting across LA. The chaos continued for 6 days, with the LAPD seemingly abandoning Koreatown in order to safeguard predominantly white and wealthy neighbourhoods in Beverly Hills and West Hollywood, before the California National Guard was called in to restore order.

Just as the documentary draws parallels between the 1992 riots and the 1965 Watts Rebellion, which saw 34 killed and $40 million in damage, it is difficult not to compare the spark of the 1992 unrest to the shooting of Michael Brown and strangulation of Eric Garner, both at the hands of US law enforcement, that catalysed the Black Lives Matter movement into a global campaign to tackle systemic racism towards black people in 2014. The antagonistic relationship between law enforcement and ethnic minorities in the US shows little sign of abating. More recently, the imprisoning and separation of families at the US border marks just the latest human rights violation committed under the guise of justice in the United States. As a news report cited in the documentary states: racism in the US is as American as apple pie.

But by the 4^th May 1992 the LA riots were not a principled reaction to an unjust system, but an insight into the depravity of the worst of our human condition. As victims are dragged from their cars by mobs of angry young men and beaten – in some cases to death – or  forced to watch as their stores and homes are burned to the ground, the viewer is forced to confront not just the reality of a system built on racism and division, but the depths of humanity's capacity for violence when pushed to breaking point. At one point, a man stood on the Hollywood Hills, overlooking the burning city below, points out that this wasn’t just about racial prejudice or injustice, but that people of all races were rioting because of economic frustrations and a sense that they had been forgotten by the political system.

In an age when our politics is becoming more divisive across the world and where people of all social classes, religions, and ethnicities are again feeling as though they are not being listened to, we should take note of the cocktail of conditions that led to this explosion in LA in 1992. Where does inequality, injustice, and pent-up frustration eventually lead? Can this be channelled into peaceful, productive protest rather than the senseless violence showcased in LA 92? Is history destined to repeat itself again and again?

To prevent the repetition of a destructive cycle that keeps people separated by race, ethnicity, religion, gender, or sexuality, we should pay close attention to the message of hope that also runs through LA 92.

It wasn't the police or the national guard that ended the violence and restored order to LA. It wasn't the President. It was the people. Ordinary citizens with their brooms and their bin bags and their messages of peace and reconciliation, who came out to clean up the mess in a show of solidarity. People of all races, ages, religions. Defiant in the face of the violence, they worked together to restore their communities, to reject the divisive identity politics that had fuelled the madness of a week of chaos. They were not people in positions of power, and they had little to gain from standing up against a mob that had seemingly lost its mind. They put themselves at risk to try to mend a broken community. And they prevailed.

When violence occurs and horror seems to overwhelm the situation, look for the leaders. Look for those protesting against the tide, like the older man yelling at the looters that what they're doing isn't right, or the congresswoman regaining control of an angry crowd outside the post office during the riots by asking them politely to “work with her”. Or Rodney King himself, overcoming his own fear and shame at what had happened to plead for the violence to stop. Look for those who are trying to do good, even when everything around them is bad. They are always there. And they will bring us all back from the brink, usually with no support, no sense of self preservation, and no recognition.

LA 92 left me feeling shocked, angry, and sick to my stomach. But it also gave a glimpse of hope for how people are able to overcome our differences and reject prejudice, injustice, and violence in favour of the search for a better world together. We are a long way from a just, egalitarian, and peaceful utopia. But we will keep trying to find our way there.

Rodney King, in his emotional and powerful plea for calm towards the end of the riots, said it best:

"People, I just want to say, you know, can we all get along?

We're all stuck here for a while, let's try to work it out.”

LA 92 is available to watch on Netflix.