In the wake of the devastating events in Palestine following the October 7 attack, the issue has fallen under the social media spotlight.

While the barrage of social media posts about the atrocities being committed against Palestinians serve an integral part of social media activism and has even proven effective in putting pressure on corporations to do the right thing, one of the side effects of repeated exposure to such traumatic content is collective grief and trauma.

This year has seen Israel engaging in genocidal politics in Gaza, followed by blatant acts of ethnic cleansing and forced displacement. Israel continues its decades-long legacy of committing barbarism and terrorising millions of civilians living under its occupation with bombs and bullets, along with apartheid laws and settler colonial policies of oppression.

The conflict in Palestine has brought about an outpouring of collective grief, as the world witnesses the loss of lives, homes and the wrecking of families. What is even more heartbreaking is the callous silence by the superpowers and humanitarian organisations such as Unicef and the WHO. The massacres against Gazans have mobilised people across continents to speak out against justice, but governments at large are still hesitant to call out the Israeli government for their terrorism.

Social media has played a pivotal role in raising awareness about the atrocities in Palestine. However, the constant exposure to images can also lead to desensitisation. Is it possible to raise awareness without compromising one’s wellbeing?

Grief is usually considered a personal, internalised experience. Yet, at times, when a public tragedy is experienced by a large group of people, that phenomenon is called ‘collective grief’. It usually occurs in the wake of war, natural disasters or any event that results in mass casualties. A good example for Pakistanis would be the devastating 2005 earthquake, which saw the entire nation rally together towards rehabilitating the affected communities.

Globally, events like the death of Princess Diana, the 2004 tsunami in Indonesia and the Covid-19 pandemic elicited grief and mourning around the world that transcended borders, religions, ethnicities and continents.

Collective grief may impact certain racial or ethnic groups more intensely, such as how Islamophobia post-9/11 particularly affected Muslims, or how the repeated instances of social injustices in the US affect black people. The collective witnessing of blatant injustices or discrimination can be a catalyst for collective grief and action. For example, the brutal murder of George Floyd caused global outrage and resulted in the largest protest movement in the history of the US.

Collective grief can manifest itself in various ways that may include preoccupation with the tragic event, shock, confusion, disbelief or trouble concentrating. This condition can lead to prolonged sadness and emotional fatigue as well as changes in behaviour, such as withdrawing from social activities or engaging in reckless behaviour.

Secondary Trauma Stress (STS) is the emotional distress felt after consuming traumatic content. It is also referred to as contact trauma or vicarious trauma. Vicarious trauma is usually prevalent in professions like medicine, mental healthcare, law enforcement and social work, where you are exposed to people who are experiencing trauma. However, now that events around the world are authentically captured in real time on social media, everyone is susceptible to vicarious trauma after the consumption of such content.

These days people around the world are mourning the senseless massacre of civilians, especially children, and are vicariously traumatised by the atrocities being faced by the people of Gaza. However, grieving itself is a privilege during a genocide in real-time when the bombs are still dropping, the water has run dry, and the body count continues to rise.

Within this overwhelming feeling of mourning lies another layer of emotional complexity — survivor’s guilt. It’s an experience of remorse and guilt often experienced by individuals who have survived or witnessed a catastrophic event or situation, where others have faced a loss but they themselves have not.

People witnessing these atrocities on their devices are struck by the question, “Why them and not me?” This can be a disturbing emotion to harbour, since it leads to feelings of guilt, helplessness and shame at our privilege.

These days, when you go on social media, you are met with harrowing images of people half buried in the rubble of the houses destroyed by Israeli airstrikes, little children laying on hospital beds with severe injuries trembling with fear or parents weeping while carrying dead bodies of their children.

These images can be deeply traumatising and triggering for anyone watching but, of course, nothing compares to the misery that awaits the residents of Gaza each day. We have the luxury of finding reprieve by scrolling past the images and news related to Gaza but, even then, the atmosphere of trauma and despair looms large in our subconscious. The lack of resolution or a permanent ceasefire can lead people to lose hope and get stuck in a perpetual state of fear or mourning.

Human beings are biologically wired to feel empathy which includes feeling distress when witnessing incidents of cruelty and injustice. Constant consumption of such content can first lead to feelings of guilt, fear and despair. However, repeated exposure can lead to desensitisation or compassion fatigue.

One way to snap out of it is to avoid ‘doom scrolling.’ This refers to the habit of constantly and obsessively scrolling through negative news or content on social media or news websites. It involves consuming an excessive amount of distressing or pessimistic information, often about disasters, tragedies or other unsettling events.

Doom scrolling can be managed by setting a time limit for yourself, after which you are not allowed to view distressing content. Another way is to focus on content that is life affirming and positive in nature.

When you feel that your daily functioning is being affected due to consuming such content, it is time to step away and take a break. A counter-argument to this might be that people in Palestine are not getting a break so why should we but, in order to keep our sanity in check, we need to ensure we are raising awareness regarding the genocide in an effective way, without jeopardising our own wellbeing.

It is important to remember that too much empty empathy, no matter how well intentioned, is futile and will more often than not lead to burn out. It is imperative to channel our empathy into activism and advocacy to transform grief into a catalyst for positive change.

The writer is a clinical psychologist and a freelance journalist. She can be reached at rabeea.saleem21@gmail.com

Published in Dawn, EOS, December 31st, 2023