What Genocide Survivors Taught Me About Failure to Protect Human Dignity

While traveling through Bosnia earlier this year, I spent several days with the Mothers of Srebrenica (commonly referred to as “Mothers”), a coalition of genocide survivors who banded together after the genocide to bring justice to the Bosnian Muslim community . They fought to secure land in Srebrenica to bury their children, they helped build the Srebrenica Genocide Memorial, they collected evidence to prosecute the war criminals responsible for their suffering, and they continue to fight for theirs to this day Community.

The coalition is a group of mothers who buried their children, brothers, sisters, parents and others during the largest genocide in Europe since the Holocaust. Many mothers are still waiting for their loved ones’ remains to be found, examined and returned for burial. Earlier this year, the United Nations declared July 11 the International Day of Reflection and Remembrance of the 1995 Srebrenica Genocide, recognizing the 8,372 people lost and the approximately 8,000 missing in Bosnia alone, as well as even more missing in the war .

When I arrived, we had a quick meeting with a translator to introduce ourselves and then we settled into the house where the mothers welcomed dignitaries and guests. The house was built on the land where such terrible atrocities occurred almost thirty years ago. Like most mothers, they insisted that I stay away from the kitchen, make myself comfortable and of course eat everything that was so generously prepared. My connection with the mothers felt completely natural but also unusual – I didn’t know Bosnian and they didn’t know English – so we were able to communicate without words when our translator wasn’t present at the meetings.

On the first day, I found that I often wanted to ask questions about the genocide or justify my presence by explaining my efforts to help genocide survivors, but instead all I was left with was communicating about the nature of human dignity. I quickly realized that all they would remember from my visit was how they felt when they were with me, and suddenly all of my other accomplishments, background, and professional experiences were frankly irrelevant.

My time with the mothers was nothing short of sacred. They taught me what human dignity looks and feels like. Human dignity is the space we share with other people in the essence of who we are – when you cannot speak the language, when you cannot communicate your achievements, affiliations or connections. In these moments, the only thing you have is your body language, including your appearance and reaction to another person’s presence, acts of service, and the energy you bring to a room. Regardless of the context, you have the dignity of who you are in this moment – ​​the inherent and undeniable worth of a human being who is loved, seen, and valued. I couldn’t help but wonder if their lives would have been different if human dignity had been at the heart of their communities.

The real test of human dignity occurs not in moments with our mothers or other familiar and pleasant people, but in moments when the tension of otherness or the fear of the unknown creates the temptation to question human dignity.

The concept of human dignity has often been discussed as the basis of human rights. This concept is set out in the preamble to the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR), which recognizes “the inherent dignity and the equal and inalienable rights of all members of the human family” as the “foundation of freedom, justice and peace in the world”. ”

Article 1 continues: “All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights.” They have reason and conscience and should treat one another in a spirit of brotherhood.” Some credit the Universal Declaration of Human Rights with the first use of the word ” “Human dignity” as the idea of ​​the inherent worth of all people.

But if human dignity is known only in theory, it remains within the comfortable confines of people who look like us, or who love us first, or who are easy to love. Human dignity must be a way of life we ​​choose that calls us to stop and help the outcast in need, to make eye contact with the other, or to offer a helping hand, regardless of the identity of the person seeking help.

The price of disregard for human dignity is human rights violations, violence and the destruction of societies around the world. We all have a moral mandate to practice human dignity and to teach our children and communities how to uphold human dignity.

In his Nobel Prize speech, Kofi Annan stated: “A genocide begins with the killing of a person – not for what he has done, but for who he is.” A campaign of “ethnic cleansing” begins with this one neighbor turns against another. Poverty arises when even one child is denied their basic right to education. What begins with the dignity of a single life not being preserved all too often ends with catastrophe for entire nations.”

Never have we needed the example of the Mothers of Srebrenica more in our world, never has it been more important to understand and practice human dignity in our lives.

Rachel Miner is the founder and CEO of Bellwether International, a 501c3 nonprofit organization whose mission is to break the cycle of genocide and create resistance to genocide.