Cleaveland: Feeling sorrow, anger, helplessness at the loss of lives in Syria

This photo provided Tuesday, April 4, 2017 by the Syrian anti-government activist group Edlib Media Center, which has been authenticated based on its contents and other AP reporting, shows a Syrian doctor treating a child following a suspected chemical attack, at a makeshift hospital, in the town of Khan Sheikhoun, northern Idlib province, Syria. The suspected chemical attack killed dozens of people on Tuesday, Syrian opposition activists said, describing the attack as among the worst in the country's six-year civil war. (Edlib Media Center, via AP)
This photo provided Tuesday, April 4, 2017 by the Syrian anti-government activist group Edlib Media Center, which has been authenticated based on its contents and other AP reporting, shows a Syrian doctor treating a child following a suspected chemical attack, at a makeshift hospital, in the town of Khan Sheikhoun, northern Idlib province, Syria. The suspected chemical attack killed dozens of people on Tuesday, Syrian opposition activists said, describing the attack as among the worst in the country's six-year civil war. (Edlib Media Center, via AP)
photo Dr. Clif Cleaveland

Think of families resting in their homes, preparing for a day of uncertainty. In the war-torn town of Khan Sheikhoun in Syria's Idlib province, parents struggled daily to find adequate food for their children. The region, which was held by opponents of the regime of President Bashar al-Assad, endured almost daily air attacks. With little warning, parents would gather their children and seek whatever shelter was available.

Early in the morning of April 4, a jet roared overhead, followed by three explosions and a fourth dull thump. Observers on nearby hills saw a white cloud spread over the city immediately after the attack. Within minutes, people ran from their houses, some collapsing almost as soon as they reached the streets. Other adults and children died in their beds.

Neighbors who rushed to the site encountered a choking fog that drove them back. Aid workers in protective suits loaded survivors into ambulances, which took them to a hospital that was quickly overwhelmed and ran out of oxygen and antidotes. Victims awaiting transfer were stripped of their clothing and doused with water to remove any poisonous residue.

Rescuers and hospital staff noted among the survivors constricted pupils, foaming at the mouth, extreme respiratory distress, incontinence of stool and urine, and writhing movements - signs of poisoning by a "nerve" gas.

Seventy-two residents, including many women and children, died. Hundreds were injured, some permanently. The hospital endured a bomb attack later in the morning. Some victims were transported to hospitals in Turkey.

Preliminary analyses implicated sarin, possibly mixed with other chemicals, as the poison employed in this attack.

Sarin was discovered in Germany in 1938. Initially developed as an insecticide, sarin proved so potent that it was assigned to the military for use as a poison gas. Though stockpiled, sarin was not used in World War II.

Sarin is classified as a nerve gas and a weapon of mass destruction. Sarin is odorless and tasteless. It is rapidly absorbed through lungs or skin. The chemical binds to enzymes at the junction of nerve fibers and muscles, resulting in continuous muscle stimulation and contraction. Constricted airways and spastic respiratory muscles lead to suffocation.

Since 1899, a series of international conventions have condemned the use of poison gases. The most recent, the Chemical Weapons Convention of 1997, prohibited the manufacture, stockpiling and use of sarin and similar poisons and called for destruction of existing supplies. The 1998 Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court deemed the use of such agents a war crime. The Hague-based Organization for the Prohibition of Chemical Weapons includes 192 member nations pledged to uphold the ban on chemical weapons. Egypt, Israel, North Korea and South Sudan are the only nonmembers.

Investigation of the April 4 attack will take months. Soil and body samples will be used to determine the poison. Syria denies responsibility for the attack. Russia, Syria's principal ally, contends that conventional bombs detonated a supply of warehoused poison on the ground. High explosives would have destroyed sarin.

The identity of those killed is known only to their loved ones, if any survived the attack. Some of the injured will regain their physical health. Others will be handicapped for life because of brain injuries due to oxygen deprivation.

As a father and grandfather who counts time with children among life's highest moments, I mourn the loss of precious lives of children and their families in a faraway land. We will never see their names listed. What markers will call attention to their burial sites? Will anyone ever pause by a grave to reflect on the lost life and perhaps lay a wreath?

Sorrow is mixed with anger and helplessness. How can perpetrators of this crime be punished? How can we assure that such attacks never recur? Would tight international sanctions against guilty nations and their allies be effective? Is elimination of a ruthless dictator by military means the only solution? Would this pull more nations into a vortex of war?

For the moment, we can each say a prayer in our faith traditions for families and children in peril. We can contribute now to international relief efforts for children and support Doctors Without Borders, which brings aid to civilian victims of war. We can advocate for careful, nonpartisan assessments and responses from our elected officials. Evil does not wear a partisan label.

I reread John Donne's poem "For Whom the Bell Tolls," which begins, "No man is an island, entire of itself." It is a poignant reminder of our common humanity, which must be honored and protected.

Contact Clif Cleaveland at ccleaveland@timesfreepress.com.

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