Black Tuesday

Are you ok? Is your team ok? Tout va bien? These are the messages I received on Tuesday 22 March, the morning of the attacks in Brussels. Caught by surprised, 3,000 kilometres away from my working place, I immediately worried for my teammates in Brussels. The attack in the metro was only one kilometre away from our office. I felt relieved when I heard that all were safe.

They were lucky. Some did not get a response to their text messages or phone calls. The victims of the attacks were sons, daughters, husbands, wives, fathers, mothers. The ones caught in the blast came from different parts of the world – 40 nationalities were impacted by the horror.

I felt haggard that day. But the consequences of the attacks were just beginning. Back in Belgium, I noticed the high level of military presence at the airport, to a level that I only witnessed after wartime Kosovo and Bosnia. I also saw the apprehension, if not the fear, on the face of those taking the metro in the aftermath of the attacks.

The attacks have triggered political disputes: who did or did not receive information about the terrorists? Was the airport provided with adequate security? More generally, did the national authorities take good measure of the terrorist threat?

In the middle of all this noise and turmoil, I heard a victim’s father, whose voice brought me some wisdom and hope: he said he admired the work of the emergency personnel, as well as the volunteers from civil society (including many from our member Red Cross) who helped to heal the wounded and provide support to the families of the victims. He was touched by their professionalism and humanity: “in these terrible moments, they really mattered to me a lot”, he said.

Yes, 22 March was a dark day for us that we shall never forget. I want to believe that it has not taken the best in us – the values and acts of solidarity and empathy that we shall continue to hold dear and use when we act and develop policies.

In commemoration of the victims,

Pierre Baussand