To Bear Witness
There can be no retribution, no punishment that would unmake the horrible acts that had taken place (and continue to take place). The worst is happening, and we did not prevent it. The statement ends there. The blood that had soaked the ground would have spawned patches of new grass long before the world could seek to carry out proper punishment. Houses had already fractured into rubble, and the rubble into dust that had seeped into every crevice of the earth — centuries later, the solid soil itself would still bear witness to the atrocities that had occurred here.
We too bear witness. It seems to be a responsibility to, because we cannot feel the pain of those affected in our own flesh, so we deal the same damage to our minds. We bear witness because we are the world, and the world cries with you. We cry because of our helplessness, our guilt, how we failed you, but we know that changes nothing. Because we have tried everything, yet the shattering of human souls continues with almost the same certainty as the sunrise. You, despite everything, broadcast your suffering to us: look at us, do not ignore us, we are still here. You allowed us to bear witness, because it too is the only thing you can do. Because you, too, are afraid and helpless; you, too, have done everything, so now what? How do you reclaim your humanity in a time like this? So you ask us to bear witness, to see you and, with all our disembodied voices, tell you that the cruelty acted upon you will be remembered.
It is too easy to romanticize, in a way. For those living outside of the impact zone, the act of bearing witness became many other things. Do I feel the hurt more than someone who had not seen the same photo as I? Does my suffering, as someone not directly affected, mean anything? Is it right for another's pain to inspire me, even if it's to act better? Am I doing enough? These, among others, are unanswerable questions. Human suffering cannot be quantified, and in a way, those on the outside will never be doing enough. Those affected may crave the blood of those who have dealt such violence against them, but beyond that, they wish for the un-dying of their children, the un-breaking of their arms and legs, and the un-destruction of their soul. We will never be able to give that to them.
Retribution is too simple. The hanging of those who arranged for this, even in the most ideal scenario, will not be justice. Their deaths or imprisonment ultimately lack satisfaction because as soon as the moment when the terrible machine of self-interest that allowed for this war stops aligning perfectly, no single one of these men would be able to carry out horrors of the same scale. It is the people, the time, the history, and their interpretations as taught to children who grow up to be soldiers, and the culture itself that worked together to make human suffering acceptable for their interests. How do you put a culture on trial?
When the time comes--when it has been long enough, when every corpse has been milked dry of the profit it generates for the war industry, when it is far too late--those we ask for accountability will tell us that they did not know of the horrors they were committing. How would they have? Surely, no person in their right mind would know the full scale of this and approve of it. When it is the victims' turn to watch, to have to bear witness as these men absolve themselves of criminality through the same devices used to livestream their viscera on broken concrete, I wonder if the world would do right by these victims then.