The attack on Ukraine has been a chilling reminder of the impact of war on families. In a matter of weeks, millions of families have been separated, mothers and children have fled the country, and sons and fathers and grandfathers have returned to fight.
We've seen residential areas, hospitals and schools targeted, all such acts intended to be so egregious that innocent citizens become terrorized by them. Despite high-minded notions to the contrary, there are few if any rules to warfare, and little to no consideration given to the impact of haywire politics on the lives of men, women and children who wish nothing more than to work, play and grow old together in relative peace and security.
There seems to be considerable shock in the European and Western world over this violence "unseen in 75 years," but that is simply selective vision. We have seen it in Syria, Yemen, Afghanistan, Iraq, Bosnia, Kosovo, Libya, Somalia, Ethiopia, Lebanon, Vietnam, Korea, and in a number of other smaller conflicts and civil wars since the Second World War. As a species, we seem to find it very difficult to find a universal formula for peace. If nothing else, each new conflict reminds us, on the faces and in the fear of children, that we are slow learners at best.
One thing is for certain: war plants a seed that grows into hate. Children who experience war are forever scarred, sometimes physically, but almost always mentally. They learn to hate those who persecute them and they wait their turn for revenge. The history of the Russian and Ukraine conflict is, in fact, almost a thousand years old, and it has simmered at times and burst into flames at other times. This latest iteration is unlikely to be the last, regardless of the short-term outcome. What is happening today will be a score to be settled years, decades, perhaps centuries from now. For the children of Ukraine, and all of the other countries mentioned previously, innocence has been lost.
As the cries for humanitarian assistance in Ukraine and its neighbours reaches a cacophony, it would be wise for all of us to reflect a little on the example we set for children around the world, and to consider the proportion of money we spend on preparing for war versus what we spend on preventing it. Rather than rushing spending bills through for refugee camps and infrastructure replacement, is there a way to invest in better education and a more equitable distribution of basic needs for several generations of young people so that they might actually be able to discover a universal road to peace?
I realize this sounds idealistic, but no children are born wanting war; hate is an acquired trait and can be eradicated if there is a global political will to do so. It is an ideal we need to seriously consider before some power-hungry maniac with his back to the wall pushes nuclear buttons in a final act of desperation.
I have no real insight into how this latest conflict could have been avoided, but I am certain, in the 21st century, it could have been and should have been. Children and families around the world deserve better than what they are getting from their collective leaders. It is heartbreaking, to say the least, to watch any child suffer from the inability of adults to figure out how to get along in this sandbox we call Earth.
Graham Hookey is the author of "Parenting Is A Team Sport" and can be reached at ghookey@yahoo.com.