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crestor mg MSF had been born kicking and screaming its way out of the Red Cross in Biafra, Nigeria, in the late 1960s. As Nigerian forces brutally squelched a secessionist struggle, a group of young French Red Cross doctors arrived to find famine sweeping across the rebel-controlled area. The doctors could do nothing to help. Hands tied by the International Committee of the Red Cross’s strict operating procedures (based on international conventions not yet updated to cover internal armed conflict), the doctors could not deliver crucial food supplies to rebel areas without the consent of the official government. The Nigerians weren’t willing to give it. Even worse, as evidence of genocide against the Biafrans grew, the Red Cross kept silent. This infuriated the French doctors. Thirty years earlier, Red Cross officials had failed to speak out about the mass deportations they documented during the Holocaust. That inaction had led some progressive intellectuals to discredit the very concept of humanitarianism. “The ethics of the Red Cross,” one ranted in a criticism of Camus’sThe Plague,“are solely valid in a world where violence against mankind comes only from eruptions, floods, crickets or rats. And not from men.” “Can I help you?” a nurse says over the intercom.