scijessreads

We can hold more than one truth in our minds and hearts at once. We can be horrified at evil acts, and condemn those that perpetrated them. Evil is not confined to one side or the other in a war or in a conflict. There can be evil done on all sides, and by all peoples. 

However, we do have to be aware that not everyone that finds themselves within the borders of a war wants to be there, or shares the same ideals or motivations as those that are actively conducting the battles themselves. Many that are impacted by war and conflict, if not most, are not involved by choice. In fact, they are at the mercy of those in some form of power that have taken away their choice. They are being used as a backdrop, as players in a situation that they would have never chosen on their own. It can be as simple in comparison as the phrase “all apples are fruits, but not all fruits are apples.” You cannot speak for people, even people with shared cultural, religious, or other ties, as a monolith. Not everyone in a defined group has the same opinions and ideas and interpretations of things that go on within and outside of that group. 

It is also important to know that in many cases, the cause of war and conflict is not because of one single act, it is the accumulation of acts that led to an outburst. It is the accumulation of years, or decades, or centuries of acts that finally broke apart, leading to a conflagration that grows out of control. If you subjugate and force control over a people for decades – or even longer, for lifetimes – you can’t be surprised that at some point they want to rise up and  rebel. Rebel against the oppression and force that has dictated the boundaries of their lives without any concern as to the actual needs and wants of the people themselves. Rebel against the authority that they do not recognize, and do not respect. Because why would an oppressed people respect those that do not respect them? 

What I have found is that in a world increasingly connected, that we often end up being even more isolated. Even more entrenched in one narrative over another, without realizing that even at extremes, there can be nuance. Even if it is glaringly obvious that one side is in the wrong at a molecular level, there is still nuance in a situation. And even if an empire needs to fall, or be held accountable, we also have to take a moment to realize what will happen to the thousands – millions – of people that are part of that empire, even if they do not agree with any of its’ actions. These are the people that bear the brunt of the collapse. These are the people that are just trying to survive and live and find a modicum of peace in a world that increasingly does not want to provide it. It is one thing to want an empire to fall, but what will take its’ place? Something better? Something worse? More of the same? Maybe we need to fell the empire to find out. Or maybe we need to worm our way into the cracks of the empire to anchor roots, to find a way to sew back up the broken pieces into something better. Stronger. More resilient. 

But what causes empires to rise and fall? What causes rebellions to catch fire? What instigates a person to latch onto an idea greater than themselves and see it as the only idea that matters? The only idea that is right? So much of what we know, now and throughout history, is that some people want to conquer everyone one that is not “them,” and turn the world around them into their version of utopia. But one person’s version of utopia is often another person’s idea of hell. The constant “othering” of whole groups of people is at issue here. If we can convince ourselves that we are the only ones that are right, that our beliefs are the only ones that matter, then anyone that steps even a millimeter off this line can be considered other. And if we no longer consider them people, then how can we feel remorse about causing them harm? That is a pivot point for holding on to our humanity. Everyone is a person. Everyone deserves a chance to live. Just because we do not share the same history or background or religion or skin color or anything else, does not mean that they are not human. That they do not matter. People are people, and they matter. How we treat people with the least, under the most oppression, is how we do anything. If we cannot care for those that are the most unlike us, how can we truly care for ourselves?

Most of us (in theory, all of us should) can agree that there are things that are universally considered ethically and morally wrong. Murder is usually at the top of that list. But what about murder when it is necessary? How do we determine the line between necessary and wrong? And if we don’t see a group of people as actual people, does that justify mass murder and death? No, it does not. There is no justification for mass murder and death. There is no justification for genocide, the complete eradication of a singular gorup of people. It solves nothing. It creates more chaos and tension and resentment. You cannot end a rebellion if you continually fan its’ flames. You just stoke the fire and make it burn brighter. 

It may seem as if I am speaking in circles, as if I am hedging my words and trying to straddle a fence between right and wrong. Between justice and oppression. And maybe it sounds like that. What I can say is that I condemn any action that takes away the choice and freedom of an entire group of people. I condemn any action taken by a government without any regard to the all of the peoples that it claims to represent. I condemn any act of terror and war that takes a life, that takes a life indiscriminately because those in power feel that the ones they attack are “other” and do no deserve to be seen as whole, real people, with lives and loves and dreams and family. I condemn the notion that there is only one possible outcome, where one group wins and another loses. In war, in conflict, there is no “winner.” Even those that come out on top suffer losses, and in many cases losses of respect, trust, and faith from not only their own side, but everyone that has observed their actions. If you have to lose your morality to win, is it even a win? And what happens to those that are considered the “losers” in the conflict? Do they give up all rights to their own identity, being subsumed into the new order or cast out to fight for scraps elsewhere? Does this sort of win actually solve anything, or just create further resentment, create further fuel for more rebellion? 

Is it even in our nature as humans to live in a truly peaceful world? Or are we resigned to a future that is as riddled with conflict as our past? History repeats itself, maybe, because we have tried very little to do anything to break out of the status quo. Because we are the frogs being slowly brought to a boil without realizing we are sitting in the soup of our own demise. Because we are afraid to try something new when the “old way” still works. The question is, “works for whom”? Usually not the ones who need the system to change. 

In this light, it seems hard not to just give up, and slip into listless acceptance. Especially for those of us that benefit from current systems of power, even if only a little bit. Why would we, who benefit in the smallest of ways (or those that gain even greater advantage), want to change anything, want to upend our own attempts to live life without conflict? We can observe at a distance, utter faint condemnation, but keep our hands clean. If only physically. Because in these moments, our hands are not actually clean. They are dirty, if only by our inaction. Inaction that allows violence and atrocity to occur only helps those in power. It allows them to continue their provocations, their destruction. Because we are silent. And in these moments, silence is complicity. As much as that characterization hurts, it is true. That doesn’t mean actions themselves have to be shouted from the rooftops, they can be done at smaller scales, at a level that is safe(er) for the one performing it. While many may feel the need to step in, get involved, and work for a change, the method that is available to them may not be the loudest. Nor the strongest. But any effort made to bend the universe toward the just is worth it. It makes a difference.  

However, there still needs to be action. Action that speaks against the powers that be. Action that helps those struggling to survive. For those that are in the trenches every day, for those that experience first-hand atrocities, for those that give everything to a just cause, it can seem as if they are shouldering all of the burden. And in some cases they are. Those of us far removed from the visceral reality of these movements and experiences come at things from a more abstract perspective. We can feel the importance, but hedge and approach what to do in a manner that seems ineffectual. We are concerned for what may happen to us if we speak too loudly or challenge our own status in a hierarchy that affords us some measure of safety. But that safety is only there because those at the top haven’t removed it yet. Everyone is vulnerable to not being safe. It’s only a matter of degrees. And what can be done to one group of people can just as easily be done to another. And another. And another. Until there is no one left to come to your aid. 

And that should be enough. That should be enough to spur us on to do something. To be part of something. To fight for something. But still, we hesitate. We equivocate. We hide behind our own privilege and hope that the tide of conflict doesn’t reach our own shores. This is wishful thinking. 

I am not saying that taking steps for change is easy. It is not, especially when you risk losing more than you may be comfortable with. But imagine those that have already lost everything. That have nothing. They still fight to exist. Because existence is something. Existence is rebellion. You are alive. You persist. You exist. And that is still something.