Tragedy beyond words in East Ghouta

Published originally in USA Today on Feb 27, 2018

It is when words become insufficient to describe the events that are unfolding before our eyes in the Syrian community of East Ghouta that we realize the extent of our hopelessness. 

This suburb of about 400,000 is the last rebel stronghold near Damascus, and it's been under siege since 2013 as the Syrian government, Russia and other allies try to oust the rebels. In the past 10 days alone, there has been a ground offensive, a huge bombing campaign, people with symptoms of chemical gas exposure, and a United Nations call for a cease-fire.

Those are the facts. UNICEF summed up the rest in one sentence: “No words will do justice to the children killed, their mothers, their fathers and their loved ones.” As medical workers and first responders, we now realize that we should also issue a statement and inform the world about the state of health and well-being, or lack thereof, in besieged East Ghouta. The truth is, we, too, have run out of words. In the face of this much horror, words are simply ineffective.

White Helmet volunteers, exhausted beyond measure, have been working around the clock, haunted by traumatic imagery of children trapped underneath the rubble. This has not stopped them from carrying out their rescue missions for the civil defense group. One volunteer was killed. Another was performing a rescue mission when he realized it was his own dead mother he was pulling out of the rubble. No words.

The Syrian American Medical Society reports to us from East Ghouta that 28 medical facilities have been targeted since Feb. 19, with eight remaining out of service. SAMS supports five of the targeted facilities and lost three medical workers last week. That brings the number of SAMS medical staff killed in 2018 to nine. No words.

Overall, since the Syrian government and its allies intensified their offensive to recapture East Ghouta early last week, over 540 people have been killed and thousands wounded. More than half have been women and children. No words.

Nearly 400,000 people remain trapped, left to face a barrage of airstrikes, barrel bombs and surface-to-surface missiles, weapons known to cause disproportionate loss and injury to civilians. No words.

Our mental health professionals are struggling to find diagnoses that accurately capture the symptoms they are witnessing. Post-traumatic stress disorder, a diagnosis that may be given after witnessing a traumatic event, grossly fails to capture the extent of the pain experienced today. There is nothing “post-trauma” in East Ghouta. 

There is no “post-trauma” when our trauma — living under incessant bombardment and at risk of starvation — is very much our daily reality. There is nothing “post-trauma” when our children tell us the only way they are able to receive money for food is if they allow themselves to be sexually exploited. There is nothing “post-trauma” when we are forced to deliver therapies that are not designed for this chronic level of horror and calamity, with no access to psychiatric medication.

What diagnosis and treatment should our mental health staff give to 5-year old Ahmad, who told our doctors this week that life and death had become the same, that people disappear and get killed without warning, and that he is praying for death — because anything would be easier than living with this type of fear. What diagnosis and treatment should our doctors give his mother, who does not know whether she should pray that her son remains alive, so they can be together, or dies so he can be spared suffering? No words.

The same international community that expressed outrage and horror at the bombardment of Aleppo is now watching the same atrocities taking place all over again in East Ghouta. This time, it is worse; the past week has been one of the deadliest since the war began more than seven years ago.

And yes, while words are insufficient to effectively describe the dire situation in East Ghouta, our silence is not an option. It is time for us to regain our voice, push to end the systematic aerial attacks on civilian infrastructure, and fight for the people of East Ghouta who have been experiencing horrors beyond imagination.

Laila Soudi is the project lead for the Stanford Refugee Research Project at Stanford University. Dr. Ahmad Tarakji is president of the Syrian American Medical Society and is working for a cease-fire. Raed Saleh, head of the Syria Civil Defense organization White Helmets, recently visited East Ghouta and is still in Syria. Follow them on Twitter: @Stanford@sams_usa @SyriaCivilDef