Try this out: pin up a map of the world mindlessly throw a dart. You’ll land on a country plagued by genocide, a country destroyed.
It’s hard for some to fathom the concept of 21st century genocide. To this day I run into people unaware of such crimes against humanity. I remember sitting in bed talking to my roommate and we heard a group of girls giggling down the hall way. One stumbles into my door somehow, looks up at a poster, and says “Darfur? Ha-ha, what is that? It sounds stupid!” How this woman managed to call something she cannot comprehend “stupid” is beyond me, but it merely informs me how I am living in an ignorant society.
Simple tasks like knowing the location of Sudan or naming more than three countries being affected by genocide seems inconceivable. It’s depressing how these truths are unknown to even the supposedly educated.
However, we have all read Night or The Diary of Anne Frank sometime throughout our grade school career, but you don’t have to be a victim of genocide to understand it.
Elie Wiesel, the author of Night advises, “Don’t limit your knowledge to the past of the Holocaust, for that’s only one example of mass genocide.”
No matter how cliché, the past tends to reproduce itself and societal ignorance employs the act of being unaware or even careless. I realized how genocide is possible within the minds of leaders because it has already succeeded on numerous accounts.
To me, such a mass destruction, whether in part or the whole, is basically survival at the cost of others. It makes me question if there is still tangible belief in humanity.
There is this idea of collective guilt and innocence. This mind-boggling quest of knowledge is problematic because it considers the moral responsibilities of individuals and plays with the faux idea of “innocent bystanders.” By keeping the consciousness quiet, we can all be indirectly seen as cruel.
Like John Prendergast states, “Through one’s inactions does he become an accomplice.”
My advice, advice that I take myself, is to turn off MTV and VH1. The cold reality is we take human rights for granted.
We complain about our coffee table wobbling at Starbucks and computers moving too slow for Facebook while we tolerate modern day massacres.
We put the idea of innocent deaths and corruption on the back burner because we’re often late to class. Or the newest club is opening two days from now and we just can’t miss an event like that.
American apathy comes into play because I would think it would be in America’s interest to combat genocide.
Like Prendergast and Wiesel explain as the main mission, we must collectively work on countering and preventing genocide, accepting its existence, and then continue to work on preventing such an immoral display.
Indefinitely, it is not a matter of placing blame and responsibilities, but instead a focus on progression. Defining world views on genocide, war strategies such as child soldiers and rape utilized as a weapon bolsters the idea of savagery.
Within this seemingly unbearable hell on earth, human destruction and a position of lost hope allows the powers of evil to consume and appear contagious.
Over at Eckerd, a neighboring school across the Howard Franklin Bridge, two girls took the roles of activists and made their school a “conflict-free campus.”
A plethora of programs are available to educate and allow personal contributions to fighting the cause.
Enough, Erase Genocide, Eckerd’s “The Plight and Promise of Africa,” and even UT’s very own UT Stand are easy ways to get involved within the Tampa community to promote an anti-genocide era.
Wiesel, the writer of Night, teamed up with John Prendergast in St. Petersburg to deliver an inspirational speech on genocide. Their discussion entitled “From the holocaust to Darfur. If we had only learned our lesson,” basically exposed the melancholic reality of reoccurring tragedies.
Their portrayal of an “ancient story of the now” reveals how genocide affects all people everywhere. Wiesel, whom endured the transformation from journalist to victim, often personifies knowledge because “knowledge won’t help if it is alone.”
Not too long ago, President Obama made a promise to be the “voice of the voiceless.” By defining genocide, the world acknowledges such far-away tragedies, but will the world ever learn?
Overall, the persuasive power of moral conviction allows me to think about something bigger than myself.
Agreeing with many anti-genocide activists, the underlying concept is change and fully understanding the powerless. I admit to being affected by today because today possesses the impossible, yet necessary obligations to do something for this world.
Often I feel the need to make a change, learn, educate, and realize that modern day genocide exists. It is not just a thing in the past that Anne Frank had to endure.
Like the admirable advice of Wiesel, “Don’t give in, never give in. Everything is dust. Sometimes you must take dust and turn it into hope.”
Narisa Imprasert can be reached at nimprasert@ut.com.