Guess what happened tomorrow?
The December 13th of years and years ago?
You see there was a city that was built a long, long, time ago, it was the center of cultural development, and at several times in the long history of an old civilization, it was the capital. The people there, at least in relativity, were happy and productive; there was much to be proud of. There people were civilized, and acquired the delicate sensibilities the modern west deemed as a characteristic of a civilized society. Its natural resources and respected status as the treasured cultural capital guaranteed it the paradise of the country. Other cities may envy it, but other cities of the country would understand the importance in the existence of this city as the ideal, something worthy of preserving.
On the 13th of December years and years ago though, it fell to a foreign army, of a country whose people were once ours, whose people now profess peace and preach of their love of culture. I wondered if it was a new thing, or if they were already professing it then, even as their army brutalized the ancient capital, committing acts of rape, murder, mutilation and torture, against the citizens of the city who had looked so much like them, who had lived much like the foreign army's society had professed to live; with their families, their contribution to society, their appreciation and creation of arts and sciences.
Who the citizens of the ancient capital were though, their distinction, what importance they had served, as a part of their proud civilization, did not mattered on that day. Professors, artisans, engineers, architects...fathers, mothers, grandparents, children...the foreign army had not cared. Women, and children, were raped to death in broad daylight, pictures of their ruined bodies being taken afterwards for souvenirs, some soldiers still reflect fondly over it. Men were beheaded for sword practices, three made to sit side by side at once. Babies were left speared in gruesome displays that furthered the insanity of those that are not yet dead.
That was years and years ago, and the youngest survivors are now old. The marks on the civilization that suffered through it are still very much there, passed on through the horrors and resentment in the eyes of grandparents, the parents who had lived in the impoverished ruins of the aftermath, and the children who bothered to remembered it. One day, the vividness would fade, before that happens though, it must be recognized, not dismissed as It Never Happened, the Enemy must not be allowed to sweep it under the rug. The Enemy are those of the foreign country that did do it, that did authorize it, the Enemy is the ones who to this day still support what they did, the needless bloodbath, and the ones who wilfully lie about it, “It never happened, and they invited us, and they deserved it”. I don't believe in ancestral sins, but neither do I believe that any pleasantry of the present will absolve, white wash the criminality of those of the past who did do it. What was done is too unforgivable.
You see there was a city that was built a long, long, time ago, it was the center of cultural development, and at several times in the long history of an old civilization, it was the capital. The people there, at least in relativity, were happy and productive; there was much to be proud of. There people were civilized, and acquired the delicate sensibilities the modern west deemed as a characteristic of a civilized society. Its natural resources and respected status as the treasured cultural capital guaranteed it the paradise of the country. Other cities may envy it, but other cities of the country would understand the importance in the existence of this city as the ideal, something worthy of preserving.
On the 13th of December years and years ago though, it fell to a foreign army, of a country whose people were once ours, whose people now profess peace and preach of their love of culture. I wondered if it was a new thing, or if they were already professing it then, even as their army brutalized the ancient capital, committing acts of rape, murder, mutilation and torture, against the citizens of the city who had looked so much like them, who had lived much like the foreign army's society had professed to live; with their families, their contribution to society, their appreciation and creation of arts and sciences.
Who the citizens of the ancient capital were though, their distinction, what importance they had served, as a part of their proud civilization, did not mattered on that day. Professors, artisans, engineers, architects...fathers, mothers, grandparents, children...the foreign army had not cared. Women, and children, were raped to death in broad daylight, pictures of their ruined bodies being taken afterwards for souvenirs, some soldiers still reflect fondly over it. Men were beheaded for sword practices, three made to sit side by side at once. Babies were left speared in gruesome displays that furthered the insanity of those that are not yet dead.
That was years and years ago, and the youngest survivors are now old. The marks on the civilization that suffered through it are still very much there, passed on through the horrors and resentment in the eyes of grandparents, the parents who had lived in the impoverished ruins of the aftermath, and the children who bothered to remembered it. One day, the vividness would fade, before that happens though, it must be recognized, not dismissed as It Never Happened, the Enemy must not be allowed to sweep it under the rug. The Enemy are those of the foreign country that did do it, that did authorize it, the Enemy is the ones who to this day still support what they did, the needless bloodbath, and the ones who wilfully lie about it, “It never happened, and they invited us, and they deserved it”. I don't believe in ancestral sins, but neither do I believe that any pleasantry of the present will absolve, white wash the criminality of those of the past who did do it. What was done is too unforgivable.