Imagining a different world … Muhammad Hamid Zaman

In February 2020, just a few weeks before the global travel was to come to a standstill, I was in Jerusalem. On a cold, rainy evening, I met up with a Palestinian anthropologist, whose family had lived in Jerusalem for several centuries. Not far from the walls of the old city, we met at Al Zahra restaurant, well known among the locals for its extraordinary cuisine. That evening seems like a lifetime and a universe away, but the words of my colleague, who was candid and honest, echo often in my mind. As we talked about the suffering of the Palestinians, he told me that no one cares. He was talking about nearly everyone — the US, the Europeans, the Muslim countries and of course the Arab neighbors of Palestine. He talked about how awfully the Palestinian refugees have been treated in the neighbouring countries, and why more than anything else, they are viewed as a nuisance. He talked about the cycles of violence, and the accompanying cycles of hollow condemnations by political leaders. Nothing changes because no one really cares.

Today, as a man-made famine grips Gaza, and is being livestreamed, I often think about what my Palestinian colleague said. The famine in Gaza was long predicted by many around the world ever since the aid routes were blocked by the Israeli army. Those grim predictions come true every day as children waste away in front of our own eyes. Instead of real solutions we find the US air dropping a few packages — an approach that is widely recognised as inefficient and useless. In fact, some of these packages have fallen on houses and people, leading to their deaths. So much for humanitarianism.

There are, of course, a number of explanations for the famine in Gaza. Political alliances, military ties, UN vetos and many other reasons are discussed as the likely causes of this calamity. But I am not convinced that these reasons provide the real explanation. As I look around the world, I feel there is something much more fundamental at play. Something that my Palestinian colleague was alluding to.

It has been nearly a year since the war broke out in Sudan. It has led to the largest internal displacement crisis in the world. Over 8 million people have been displaced from their homes in the last year alone. The reasons and causes may be fundamentally different than the situation in Gaza — but the pain and agony of the sick, wounded and the hungry is the same. Sudan rarely appears in the news, or on the radar of our concern. Few around me seem to be interested in providing support, care, food or funds. More recently, the situation in Haiti has taken a turn for the worse. Haiti has long been hit by insecurity, pain and suffering. The situation has been made worse by foreign intervention and the disregard of human dignity by international agencies, including the UN that was responsible for the worst cholera outbreak in the history of the country that lead to the death of tens of thousands.

In Sudan, Haiti, and in many other places of the world, we fail to feel the pain of the people because in our mind these places have always been like this. We have built racist frameworks in our mind that suggest that people in these countries have always been fighting; that they are uncivilised, and incapable of living in peace. The views of many about Afghanistan (including many in Pakistan) are not very different either. Many in the West may not say it openly, but I have little doubts that they harbour the same kinds of views about Gaza: a place teeming with primitive people. So what if there is famine in 2024? So what if we have enough food and ample knowledge to avoid it?

The theater of air drops, empty rhetoric and bombastic statements will continue until there is a fundamental shift in how we view other people and until we view them as our own.

Courtesy The Express Tribune, March 19th, 2024.