Today, Russia killed dozens of innocent, unarmed civilians in Kramatorsk by bombing buses full of people. Yet atrocities like this have become so normalized that they barely make waves in the news anymore. People have grown accustomed to them. There is little outrage, barely any reaction. Most will simply shrug it off as “just another day in Ukraine.” I’m not going to appeal to the West or the “international community” here. At this point, I doubt it would convince anyone of anything. What worries me isn’t even the long-term demographic and economic catastrophe that will affect both Ukraine and Russia for decades, perhaps even a century. What worries me far more is that this relentless terror against Ukraine will give rise to the ugliest kind of national resentment. A deep sense of injustice, a burning need to settle scores, to somehow restore fairness. History is full of examples, and I won’t go into them here. After all, it’s easy to tell people to “just move on and look to the future.” But to someone carrying the pain of losing a loved ones with all they knew and worked for burned to the ground, that advice makes about as much sense as telling a homeless person to “just buy a house.” This is where some of the ugliest forms of radicalisms and all the other dangerous “isms” take root. Resentment emerges as the dark twin of hope, born when it feels as though nothing remains but despair. This war has already lasted longer than World War I, and the trauma it leaves behind will shape both current and future generations, and certainly not for the better. The echoes of this war will be felt across the world long after the fighting ends. And part of that legacy will be the fact that, at some point, the world simply grew “tired” of resisting an axis of dictatorial regimes waging war in Europe.