War is an extension of politics by other means, it has been said. Descriptions and explanations of military conflict between nations in our times however tend to be cast in starkly simplistic terms as a struggle between good and evil, the just versus the unjust, right against wrong, asymmetrically weaker forces struggling against an overwhelmingly superior enemy.

“I’m afraid that the world has a templated view—of war being a binary affair, the victors and the losers, the just and unjust,” says Dr Wee Teck Young, general practitioner-turned-humanitarian and Guest Speaker for the 2022 White Coat Ceremony of the Yong Loo Lin School of Medicine.

Nearly twenty years ago, the Medicine Class of 1987 alumnus sold his GP practice and moved to Quetta in Pakistan, to become a volunteer. His work with Afghan refugees subsequently led him to spend 16 years in Bamiyan and Kabul, Afghanistan, first as a public healthcare worker, then as a humanitarian worker before transitioning into what he says was a “peace-builder”. There, the Singaporean doctor who the locals dubbed Hakim, i.e. Afghan for “doctor”, conducted education and health programmes, and supported young Afghan volunteers to establish a non-governmental organisation centred on building a green, equal and non-violent world without war.

The pandemic that swept through the world two years ago forced a return to Singapore, where he watched in helpless dismay as the Taliban returned to power with the withdrawal of the US and NATO troops from the country in 2021. Literally overnight, the relative peace, economic and social progress that the Afghan people had known for two decades after the ouster of the Taliban and the establishment of a civilian government vanished. Those who could, fled the country. Most Afghans had to reorder their lives under a regime that the UN human rights chief Michelle Bachelet recently said practised systematic oppression and actively excludes women and girls from public life in Afghanistan. Domestic violence and harassment have grown under the Taliban rule, as have attacks against female human rights defenders, journalists. Lawyers and women can no longer find employment, while secondary schooling for more than a million girls was ended, and an increasing number of restrictions on movement and dressing plunged Afghan women into a deep depression.

His original aim of using his medical training to aid Afghans eventually led him to work with some Afghan youths to found a non-governmental organisation centred on building a green, equal and non-violent world without war.

Unfortunately, Dr Young notes, Afghans, who live predominantly in rural areas and have agricultural livelihoods often become human collateral in the West’s war on terror in the country. Many Afghan farmers have learnt to listen for the hum of drones overhead as warnings to stay away from harm. But since farming is their livelihood, they often continue tending to their fields, even as fighting rages around them.

A turning point arrived for Dr Young when Little Farmer, the nephew of his ex-volunteer, came and told him that his father had been killed by a “computer” (drone). He was at a loss for words.

He had no answers for them, on how they could and would seek justice. “They had no recourse to justice. How does Little Farmer and his mother grieve and have proper closure?”

This experience, together with many stories of death, loss and grief that Afghans shared with him over the years challenged his own assumptions about justice and its apparent binary nature with which the world viewed the conflict in Afghanistan. It also made him think hard about the meaning and application of justice in Medicine.

He recalls fondly the kindness and camaraderie of Afghan friends, with whom some of his fondest memories were woven at the dinner table.

Mealtimes are times spent in good spirit, as Afghans sit on the floor, gather round the table and share simple meals that may include chicken—when it is available. “I still miss my life in Afghanistan.” He keeps in touch with some of his Afghan colleagues. However, not all of them are well and some have become refugees in other parts of the world. And much as he would like to, going back and resuming his work in Afghanistan there does not seem possible for the immediate future.

Moving forward

“I’ll be exploring how to share the precious lessons I had learnt on emotional health, with Singaporeans as well as with refugees in this region or other places. If possible, I hope to contribute to wider conversations on personal and public ways to nurture emotional healthcare and practices for our interconnected well-being.”

On this topic, he also elaborates on his personal experience. “This is not a regret, but rather, my retrospective evaluation that, amidst the stresses and trauma of war, it would have been useful for me to have spent more time working intentionally on my personal emotional health so as to be holistically healthier and present for others.”