Perverse pleasures of genocide

A bomb has been dropped on the Nasser Hospital in Khan Younis, Gaza. Someone is videoing from a distance, and we see Palestinian aid workers climbing up the stairs, trying to rescue the survivors.

- By Prabhath Sirisena

Among the civil defence crew wearing bright vests, there are also four journalists: Hossam al-Masri (Reuters), Mohammed Salama (Al Jazeera), Mariam Abu Daqga (Independent Arabia) and Moaz Abu Taha (NBC). Then another explosion, killing those very people offering help and documenting the carnage. In front of cameras, for the whole world to see through the livestream, Israel commits yet another war crime and ... nothing happens.

At this point one has to step back in awe at the sheer audacity of it, the impunity with which Israel continues to decimate hundreds of thousands of Palestinian lives. Equally impressive—though perhaps it shouldn’t come as much of a surprise—is the nonchalance with which all that destruction is dismissed, not just by those in power but, as I’m beginning to understand, large swaths of the Western populace.

Past atrocities, present reality

After living for years in the former home of a Jewish family in Amsterdam who got killed by the Nazis, I feel the irony acutely. When six million Jews (along with a million Roma, Sinti and other people) were murdered by Nazi Germany, the West (along with many others, including millions of men and women from the colonies who fought alongside the British in WWII) managed to liberate the remaining prisoners, and declared, “never again.” What little credibility this statement had managed to retain in the ensuing years have finally been obliterated by the genocide in Gaza. “Never again” is now, at best, a hollow platitude. At worst—and this is probably closer to the truth—it stands for selective compassion. Never again, yes, but only for chosen people.