In a move that surprised absolutely no one except perhaps the drone operators themselves, a funeral procession in Sudan has been summarily interrupted by a precision strike from an unmanned aerial vehicle. The British Foreign Office, roused from its habitual slumber of diplomatic indifference, has issued a statement of 'deep concern' and 'unequivocal condemnation'. Because nothing says 'we care' like a strongly worded telegram composed over a cup of Earl Grey.
Let us paint the scene. A crowd of mourners, gathered to pay their respects to a victim of the ongoing conflict, are instead turned into victims themselves. It is a grim irony that would make even the most hardened satirist choke on his gin. The drone, presumably on a mission to eliminate a 'high-value target', instead delivered a payload of grief upon those already drowning in it. The modus operandi of modern warfare: surgical precision with side orders of collateral damage.
The Foreign Office's position is, as ever, a masterpiece of weasel words. They 'condemn' the strike, they 'urge restraint', they 'call for an investigation'. But one cannot help but notice the careful omission of any actual action. It is the diplomatic equivalent of a shrug, dressed in a morning coat. Meanwhile, the bodies pile up in a country that has become a byword for the world's indifference.
But let us not forget the heroic role of the British government in this tragedy. They are, after all, the moral compass of the international community, pointing firmly in the direction of 'tut-tut' and 'tsk-tsk'. The drone itself? Oh, it was likely American-made, perhaps with a British guidance system, but that is a detail best glossed over in the interests of maintaining the Union Jack's pristine reputation.
And what of the Sudanese people? They are expected to accept this as just another Tuesday in a country that has known nothing but war, famine, and the occasional outbreak of hope that is promptly extinguished by a Hellfire missile. The funeral attendees were presumably guilty of the crime of grieving in the wrong place at the wrong time. Their reward: instant martyrdom, and a paragraph in the Foreign Office's daily round-up of horrors they cannot be bothered to prevent.
So raise a glass, dear reader, to the brave diplomats who condemn from a safe distance. And to the dead, who are now just a statistic in a conflict that has long since ceased to be news. The drone flies on, indifferent. The Foreign Office issues another statement. And somewhere, a funeral is cancelled due to unforeseen circumstances.
Biff out.
