Photo by AP Photo/Hussein Malla

Mental Health

POV: The Earthquakes in Turkey and Syria and the Challenge of Disasters

“We have a fundamental human duty not to look away from mass traumatic events, to refuse to let the human toll of disasters become mere statistics”

It has been hard to look away from the stories and images coming out of Turkey and Syria in the wake of the two recent earthquakes there that have left more than 33,000 people dead, a number which will undoubtedly rise. Each day brings a new haunting image, a new story of how the disaster has affected individuals and families, a new reminder of the devastating effect of mass traumatic events. The process of recovery will be long. The physical and mental health effects of disasters can last years, even a generation.  

The images of disasters like the Turkey-Syria earthquake have become all too common in recent decades. Disasters are increasing, driven by factors such as war, urbanization, and extreme weather events. In the last 50 years, for example, climate- and weather-related disasters have increased fivefold. These disasters disproportionately harm countries with less economic resources. We are also in the middle of conflicts, like the war in Ukraine, which have led to mass injury and death in many regions.

It is easy to feel helpless when we hear news of widespread suffering, whether it is caused by natural disaster or human conflict. And yet, we have a fundamental human duty not to look away from mass traumatic events, to refuse to let the human toll of disasters become mere statistics, background noise to our otherwise normal days. From this basis of empathy, of bearing witness, we can engage in the work of shaping a world that is resistant to the mental and physical consequences of mass traumatic events.

In 2016, I wrote about empathy and the health of populations. At the time, over four million refugees had fled the conflict in Syria. It can be difficult to fully grasp the reality of suffering when it happens on such a massive scale. In the case of the refugee crisis, the numbers were made vivid, real, by a single image which traveled around the world, leading to an uptick in engagement with the issue. It was a picture of Alan Kurdi, a three-year-old Syrian refugee lying dead on a beach after the boat carrying him and his family capsized. This image did what numbers cannot always do—instantly convey the human toll of a crisis, generating empathy and collective commitment to supporting those affected by mass traumatic events.

This was again the case during this disaster. On the cover of the February 8 edition of the Wall Street Journal, another image powerfully conveyed the depth of suffering after a disaster. It was a picture out of Turkey of a father holding the hand of his daughter who died in the earthquake. Only her hand is visible because the rest of her body is still buried beneath the rubble. It is a shocking image. As the father of a daughter I love very much I was particularly moved by this image. As a fellow human, I was moved to tears.

The picture captures the immense suffering after a disaster. If we look closer at images of Turkey and Syria, however, it is possible to see the suffering that also led to this disaster. If we look with an awareness of the foundational forces that shape health, we can see how this disaster intersects with a range of other challenges to the health of populations, long-standing issues which worsened the effects of the earthquake when it struck. These notably include the Syrian Civil War, ongoing for over a decade, which has already resulted in over 306,000 civilian deaths, as well as the deaths of many refugees fleeing the conflict, refugees like Alan Kurdi.

I have long been involved in scholarship about disasters and their health consequences. A core lesson of this work is that disasters are shaped by the context in which they occur. If a population is already healthy, resilient, supported by an abundance of material resources, strong community networks, a well-funded and responsive health system, political stability, and a lack of regional conflict, these factors can ensure that when disaster does strike, the consequences are not as bad as they could be. If, on the other hand, a population lacks resources, lacks a working health system, is in a region riven by conflict, and lacks political stability, it is poorly positioned for when disaster strikes. Even the consequences of earthquakes are shaped enormously by underlying urban infrastructure. This strongly urges us to build healthier, more resilient communities now, before disasters occur.

Disasters can often seem to happen “out there,” allowing us to feel like we are somehow insulated from their effects. This feeling of remove can make it possible for us to think that we are somehow safe from disasters, that they only happen in faraway places. The truth is that disasters can happen anywhere. The same forces that create the conditions for disaster in Syria and Turkey exist close to home. Climate change, extreme weather events, and the threat of conflict are universal challenges, creating universal vulnerability to disaster. “Out there” is, in fact, here. The forces that shape health do not acknowledge borders or any of the other constructs that allow us to think we are somehow separate from populations facing the effects of disaster. They are a reminder that we are all in this together, that when disaster strikes anywhere, it is a tragedy for all of us. This should serve as a reminder that we have a fundamental responsibility to create the conditions that mitigate disasters—preventing them when we can and supporting the physical and mental health of survivors when we cannot.

Sandro Galea is the Robert A. Knox Professor and dean of the BU School of Public Health. He can be reached at sgalea@bu.edu. Follow him on LinkedIn at linkedin.com/in/sandrogalea.

“POV” is an opinion page that provides timely commentaries from students, faculty, and staff on a variety of issues: on-campus, local, state, national, or international. Anyone interested in submitting a piece, which should be about 700 words long, should contact John O’Rourke at orourkej@bu.edu. BU Today reserves the right to reject or edit submissions. The views expressed are solely those of the author and are not intended to represent the views of Boston University.