The wording of the Genocide Convention needs to change

The extremely narrow definition of genocide has never stopped a single act of mass murder since its adoption

- Mukesh Kapila

“April is the cruellest month,” asserts TS Eliot in his masterpiece, The Waste Land.

The poet was reflecting that the spring promises new beginnings, but also signals renewed fighting with attendant fresh pain and tears.

Is this why we commemorate Genocide Awareness Month in April, which witnessed the start of the 1915 Armenian, 1975 Cambodian and 1994 Rwandan genocides, as well as the 2023 reignition of the Darfur genocide? The month also marks some cruel landmarks of the Nazi pogrom against Jews that inspired Raphael Lemkin to coin the word “genocide” by combining the Greek genos (race) and Latin cide (killing).

The Genocide Convention, adopted by the UN in 1948, promised “never again” for this heinous crime. But as mass atrocities have multiplied over the decades that followed, have any genocides ever been prevented?

Thus, as we make sombre speeches and lay wreaths at memorials this month, it is worth pondering whether the language of genocide is useful, or actually harms the curbing of inhumanities that are now normalised in war?

The question is important because genocide allegations are commonplace these days. They are weaponised by demagogic politicians to demonise adversaries who then make counter-allegations, as with the respective supporters of Hamas and Israel. Such mutual provocations drive conflicting sides farther apart and make peace even more difficult to achieve.

"Genocide!” is also the cri de coeur of desperate people amid wars such as in Sudan. These are usually ignored because global tensions are neutralising collective diplomatic and military measures to protect civilians at existential risk. Therefore, repeated genocide-calling without result diminishes the word's shock value and significance.