It has taken me a full week to master the words for this blog post, a week to face the haunting truth that history is looping back on itself. For someone who has dedicated an entire career and life to humanitarian work, this déjà vu is pure poison to swallow.
My thoughts extend to all civilians, but they linger, heavy-hearted, with the young souls - the bright-eyed youths, the hopeful adolescents, and the innocent children, from every corner of the world, and in this case from both sides of the wall.
To me, children should know no borders; they dream as one. These thoughts take flight, transcending the boundaries of time, embracing generations both near and far.
I think of Palestinian youth, their upbringing framed within the walls of an open-air prison, where bars are not just physical, but mental, social, and physical. They exist in a perpetual crucible cycle of violence, confined to designated zones, their every move observed, every drop of water and flicker of electricity controlled. Education and healthcare are scarce; their dignity and rights remain invisible.
On the other side of the story, Israeli youth have grown up for more than two decades under the monolithic chants of "decisive victory" and "peace through strength." They've lived in the shadow of an enemy they've never met, for they themselves have faded from Israeli maps and forecasts.
One side, a world marred by ceaseless conflict, a twisted kind of normalcy where peace feels like an unimaginable mirage; on the other, a life so far removed from the conflict across the wall that it barely registers. Both sides have been robbed of the dream of a conflict-free existence.
Our responsibility, here, lies with the next generation - an entire generation that's been robbed of its future and its life. It falls on the shoulders of governments and politics to shape a culture of peace, to resolve conflicts rather than merely managing them.
From a nation, Israel, that once celebrated peace and instilled the aspiration of harmony in its youth, right-wing governments have handed the latest generations an ethos that views compromise as weakness and the "other" as an eternal enemy. It's an ethos that elevates war above human lives.
This narrative, sadly, isn't confined to one place; it's a stain found in many corners of the world, where the "other" is dehumanized, isolated, painted as an enemy. When violence, inequality, and poverty are nurtured through occupation, the denial of rights, opportunities, and dignity, what kind of future are we paving?
The Geneva Conventions and Humanitarian Laws were crafted for a purpose: to prevent the darkest facets of humanity from plunging into the abyss, and to safeguard the lives of civilians, especially the most vulnerable - the children. Yet, today, they seem fragile, their sanctity overshadowed by violations, impunity, inhumanity, and political interests. Resolutions, vital for peace, languish due to a rusty mechanism governed by the will of the powerful, illustrating how the system is no longer fit for today's peace.
We have faltered in upholding principles, the rule of law, and the protection of civilians - everything that makes us human. We have let down aid workers, colleagues, friends, doctors, children, the wounded, the sick, the disabled, and women. In every place, under every circumstance, safeguarding civilians is paramount.
As a last resort, we must appeal to the collective conscience, our final hope.
By reshaping the narrative around war and peace, by fostering an information and values revolution that transcends propaganda, we can amplify our collective voice in averting imminent carnage, war crimes, and ethnic cleansing. Let us remember, regardless of our nationality, to continue believing in the power of laws and regulations, the sanctity of human rights, and the unwavering commitment to humanitarian laws. These are the values that unite us, binding our shared humanity
One generation. One dream. The essence of humanity.
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