It seems all this caring has been amplified in recent weeks since the troops moved out of the country. I hope the caring is genuine and not just a stick for the Taliban rule. The only way to improve their lot is to help.
I understand you're coming from a place of active compassion; you feel for these people, you invest your heart, body and soul into supporting them, and it's never enough, more people need to help. Words are nice but bodies on the ground and food in their mouths would be better. If there's such growing chorus of compassion, where's the growing tribe of active helpers? There's some truth to that, but it's a complicated one.
If you step away from some of that cynicism, I think you can re-assess that first sentence and come up with an alternative explanation. I absolutely agree with you that the caring has been amplified - and temporarily. Mostly because the images alerted or reminded people of one of the many tragedies of this situation. It's a tragic reality that without those images, most people don't think about it. Not because they don't care about the issue, but because it's psychologically impossible to think about every violation of every principle you care about at every place and time it's happening simultaneously, we don't have the mental or emotional bandwidth for it.
By spending your time helping Afghans, you're not spending your time helping other people. Those trade-offs are just an unfortunate reality. So people will stop talking about it after a while, this visible compassion will fade away. Some would say that means they don't
really care about it. It might even raise suspicions whether it was simply a vehicle for some much less worthy agenda. I'm sympathetic to the view but it's just more complicated than that.
There are people in places and times I've never heard of that have suffered in ways I've never known. I can't choose to help them over those people I know and see suffering. That means I care less about them as individuals, unfortunately. Our capacity for empathy is limited by things like physical realities and cultural ties, that's just the reality we live in. Part of the reason you choose to help Afghans (and others) rather than many, many other people and places is because of that, it's just hard-wired into us. Outside forces can break through that with unnatural, almost unseemly methods: the media, charities and other organisations that transport people and places into our lives that otherwise would be invisible, often with tools and tricks to deliberately stir up emotions. I don't think it's right to question the sincerity of those emotions, nor the validity of the views underpinning them.
Let's break away from the moral relativism and broader discussion for a second. I think it's disgusting that women are described as lollipops. That's not a convenient viewpoint to support my agenda against the Taliban, it's a deep feeling, and yes that feeling is triggered by it being put in front of me. I don't expect everyone to feel the same way about it, but I'm surprised you can't even contemplate it. I've had many conversations with people who feel that way about women. I'm sure you have too. Not using that exact phrase, but describing them as objects, under the control of men, who don't even deserve basic levels of human dignity. It doesn't matter to me whether they're from the Taliban or 19th century England.
Some principles are so core to one's understanding of the world that when they're violated, they hurt deeply, they cause outrage, they temporarily jerk you out of your normal sense of priorities. The fact that I'm going to go back to my normal set of priorities doesn't invalidate those feelings. It shouldn't trigger questions about their sincerity or raise suspicions of political motivations. It's just an unfortunate reality that our existence is defined by limited resources and time and not everything you would like to do, or feel one ought to do, is practically feasible. So sometimes words are all we can give. But they matter too.