Two years into an ongoing genocide — recognised as such by the UN Independent International Commission of Inquiry, Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch, B’Tselem, Physicians for Human Rights, Doctors without Borders, the International Association of Genocide Scholars, the Lemkin Institute for Genocide Prevention, the University Network for Human Rights and countless scholars of international humanitarian law, genocide and Holocaust studies — we are now to normalise the obscene, and move on.

It’s not for lack of effort on the part of global populations that we’ve arrived here. For two years, people have taken to the streets in what has been, arguably, the largest, longest-running and most peaceful protest movement in history. They’ve boycotted, pushed for sanctions and divestment, taken to social media to educate themselves and others about the genocide (as well as the roots of the conflict), sailed on Gaza and made and lost friends, family and community along the way.

The pressure brought to bear against those who have spoken in defence of Palestinians has been enormous, but not unprecedented. From false accusations of antisemitism that have ended careers, to violent and unwarranted arrests and even incarcerations. The greatest price, of course, has been paid by Palestinians themselves who’ve worked tirelessly for decades to try to awaken the world to the extent of their suffering under Israeli occupation.

In the West, our cultural, educational and media institutions have proven themselves — for the most part — unwilling to stand in defence of any form of inquiry or questioning that, however legitimate, might have harmed Israel’s standing and brought backlash against the institutions themselves from lobbyists and the powerful. Instead, we’ve seen journalists forced out, punitive court cases brought, events cancelled, visas refused, new protest laws legislated and highly contentious definitions of antisemitism ushered in.

Many people (myself included) who’ve largely been ignorant of the history of the conflict, who’ve never had to give much thought to the functioning of international law and the genocide convention, who’ve never had to confront the limitations of bodies like the UN or the international courts, and who’ve never had to ask whether public broadcasting remains fair and balanced, have undergone a violent awakening these past two years.

We’re shell-shocked not only by the brutality of what we’ve seen, but by the refusal of our elected officials to do something — anything — meaningful to try to stop it. Watching infants and toddlers dismembered, disembowelled or eviscerated nearly daily for two years as we protested, boycotted and begged for our elected officials just to uphold the bare minimum legal standards, has ripped us from the comforting and illusory narratives that have kept us hitherto placid, unthreatening and tranquillised in our subservience to a model of a state that promised us progress, but delivered us instead the screams and skulls of tiny children every bit as precious and innocent as our own.

Gone are the delusions of our “Western liberal order” and our “progressive values”, and in their place stands the realisation that we’re a part of a system that’s irrefutably corrupt and inhumane by design. A system that we’re a funder of, a participant in, a beneficiary of and trapped within.

Our “leaders” — powerful, wealthy and privileged — would risk nothing to speak truth to power, to resist evil, to come to the defence of the innocent. Theirs appears to be a world of cynical calculation about what is achievable, and what it might cost them — viewed only through the lens of the political realities as they exist today, and never framed or imagined in terms of what might be achieved — if only they would risk a little.

Nothing is as it was. Gaza lies in ruin: untold horrors await the teams that will sift their way through the toxic dust that now blankets what remains of the tiny slither of the Strip not reoccupied by Israel’s forces. But the West lies in ruin too.

The institutions, that should have offered us vigorous co-operation and impassioned action, are instead gilded halls of muted address casting long shadows. The legal frameworks and conventions conceived post-World War II — already battered and bruised from decades of abuse and neglect — are now inarguably on life support. A chancellor of a state that once committed one of the most brutal genocides in human history, now throws his hands in the air and speaks of a “temporary” return to the rule of might, and the un-enforceability of ICC arrest warrants.

International courts and their staff languish under sanctions, threats, and unrelenting external pressure. Provisional measures gather dust and the obligations of third states exist as little more than faded ink and the hoarse cries of those who would still stand to defend the international legal order.

Our “leaders” have burnt that order to the ground in defence of a genocide that we watched transpire in real time. Our media have surrendered what little remained of their credibility by endlessly parroting Israeli talking points, muzzling their own staff, obscuring the size and force of popular protest and downplaying the legal and scholarly consensus about the genocide taking place. Our universities exist as hollowed-out shells of their former selves, incapable of educating our children in anything of import to their increasingly precarious futures.

The “ceasefire” is designed, many believe, principally to mute the global protest movement just as strikes were beginning to shut down countries (see Italy and Spain) and the threat of sanctions loomed large. Simultaneously, the “ceasefire” enables the same countries and parties that aided Israel in its genocide to feast on the orgy of money that will flow into efforts to rebuild Gaza in the image of Western interests.

We, the peasants, should now return to the mundane details of our lives. The Gaza episode is over. We should busy ourselves once more with school runs and mortgage payments, with holiday planning and housecleaning, with dreams of retirement and concerns about the cost of living – but definitely not Palestine.

We should not think of, nor reflect on, all that we’ve learnt about how this world might actually work – and in whose ultimate interest. Nor about where this most recent episode of obscene and unresolved violence might lead us. And most definitely not about what power we might have to actually change things.

The question is: are you ready to be lulled back to sleep?

The views expressed in this article may or may not reflect those of Pearls and Irritations.