Humanitarianism as a vaccine

Aug. 19 is World Humanitarian Day and, as with most things related to humanitarianism, it has a tragic origin. On that day in 2003, a bomb attack killed 22 humanitarian aid workers. Five years later, the General Assembly adopted a resolution designating Aug. 19 as World Humanitarian Day, to increase public awareness about humanitarian activities worldwide, the importance of international cooperation to making humanitarianism sustainable, as well as to honor all those who have worked in the promotion of the humanitarian cause, especially those who have lost their lives because of it.

The commemoration of World Humanitarian Day is especially important in times like the present. We could all certainly use a reminder that there are those among us that dedicate their days to the often thankless task of uplifting the lives of the most desperately needy, and for no other reason than that they too are humans. We honor these humanitarian workers who risk their lives to help people in war-torn areas, natural disasters and in areas where there are disease outbreaks, and at the same time we also call attention to the plight of the millions who are affected by conflict, displacement and disasters.

We commemorate World Humanitarian Day in recognition of our common humanity, and to remind everyone that helping others is a shared responsibility – regardless of nationality, religion or political beliefs. Our common humanity calls us to help those in need and to stand with them as well as the aid workers who serve them. It encourages compassion and empathy in a world of conflict and division.

War has been a part of human history since it began to be recorded. While this much has to be acknowledged, it is not the same as admitting that warfare itself is part of human nature. I reject that premise, because by default there are few things that cause more horror to the human mind than to see the effects of war on other human beings. Something that is so repugnant to our conscience cannot be a part of our nature – it must, in fact, be antithetical to it.

That the reaction to these atrocities seems muted in the present may be due to a mixture of many things. Save for those who are directly affected by warfare, many people have simply become desensetized to the horrors of war. This is in part because of the rapid cycle of the internet’s news/content churn, and in part because there are simply too many bad things happening at the same time. But another factor, one much more insidious, is a failure of the moral imagination – of the feeling of solidarity that is meant to transcend the differences between people and bind us to each other through our common humanity. And that failure is because we are so often encouraged and incentivized not to see those different from us as ‘like’ us, not to see them as people in the same way that we are.

This blindness to the humanity of others is something we learn, but it is not something that we are born with. It has been easy and useful for authorities – whether they be parents, teachers, religious or national leaders – to form our identities by telling us what makes us, not just different from others, but better than them. To set us apart by elevating us at the cost of the dehumanization of the other.

But where are those that would teach us what binds us to each other, what unites us in spite of our differences? While exceptionalism is taught to us in schools, forming the seed of concepts such as school pride and nationalism, it is not balanced by an equal emphasis on solidarity and common humanity. So many young people grow up and step into a world where their “exceptional” identities are met with competing claims, and they begin to see these differences as attacks: on their nation, their religion, their ‘people,’ on themselves. The internet and social media amplify these claims and prejudices, and it has led to the creation of a toxic environment. Our youth must be taught the breadth of what it means to be human. And those who do the hard, thankless humanitarian work are reminders that being human should be enough.

In the face of the horrors of war, there should be no qualifiers before we extend our hand to help: no civilian deserves to be attacked, no child deserves to be maimed, no innocent death should be covered under the sterile mantle of collateral damage or, worse, acceptable loss. Their humanity alone is enough to call forth our sympathy and solidarity.

When COVID-19 ravaged the world, it was that solidarity that ultimately saw us through the worst of it. It was people wearing masks, practising social distancing and lining up for hours to take vaccines – even if they were not themselves sick, because there was an understanding that each person played a part in solving the problem and our individual efforts to protect ourselves also protect the community. The virus did not discriminate amongst us, but nor did the vaccine.

War does not discriminate in its horrors either. And to defend ourselves from war, we must defend humankind as a whole, by rebuilding our moral imagination and by spreading the vaccine of humanitarian solidarity.

Humanitarianism acts as a vaccine against division by promoting empathy, unity and shared humanity – principles that counteract the roots of conflict. By reinforcing our common humanity, we see people as human beings first – not a person’s color, religion or political beliefs. In doing so, we look at what is common among us, instead of what divides us. It is the mindset that sets one apart from the other because of our differences that creates division and conflict. But humanitarianism does not look at what sets one apart from another, it focuses on what unites us. It highlights our common humanity. It inspires peace, not war. It values life, dignity and service. It cultivates compassion, solidarity and unity, which are the antibodies against war.