SOMETIMES shocking pictures are what it takes to prod us out of our complacent cocoons.

Last year, Europe finally woke up to the horror of the refugee crisis when photographs appeared on the front pages of a young boy in a bright red T-shirt, lying lifeless on a Turkish beach. The fate of Alan Kurdi became the catalyst that finally forced governments across the continent to at least acknowledge the humanitarian catastrophe unfolding on their own doorstep.

Last week, the world’s dormant empathy was jolted awake by the image of a little boy sitting stunned, covered in dust and debris, blood spilling from his head. We grasped at hope when we learned little Omran Daqneesh was alive. But his 10-year-old brother, Ali, is dead. As Kenan Rahmani, a Syrian activist wrote, “Ali is the reality: that no story in Syria has a happy ending.”

So far this month, 142 children have been killed in Aleppo alone. Across Syria 50,000 children have been killed in the last five years. The figures are so huge that they numb our senses. But now and again, an image such as Omran’s pierces though the jaded, world-weary shield we build around us to cope with our own powerlessness.

It’s hard to look at the traumatised children and the broken bodies. But as a very good friend of mine once said, if they can suffer it, the least we can do is look at it.

We were moved by the tears of a CNN newsreader, Kate Bolduan. But when she said it wasn’t known who had dropped the bomb on Omran’s family, she was wrong.

Bashar al-Assad may not have personally pressed the button, but in that beleaguered country, the only aircraft dropping bombs on Aleppo are controlled by his regime and by his close ally, Vladimir Putin.

Daesh (or ISIS as much of the media insists on calling the movement) has perpetrated unspeakable atrocities in Syria – but Assad far outstrips them in the carnage. He outnumbers Daesh in the body count by a factor of at least eight to one. He rains down bombs indiscriminately on his own people. These include children sleeping in their beds at home, or sitting in their classrooms or being treated in hospital wards. Assad is determined to fight to the last drop of his people’s blood.

Meanwhile, the UK, the US and other forces focus their ire and weaponry on Daesh. It’s hard to fathom how we got from Cameron’s government preparing to take the UK to war against Assad in August 2013 to effectively becoming Assad’s wingman against Daesh. The US, who began by arming “moderate” rebels against Assad has dropped all calls for him to step down. Not that I believe we should have gone to war against Assad. Cameron’s sabre-rattling could have taken us to the gates of hell. In all probability we would have ended up in a war against Russia, whether or not officially declared, with horrendous consequences for the wider world.

So what can we do? The UK Government’s focus on Daesh has taken the heat off Assad. For the Syrian people, the least we can do is name their main murderer.

Syria’s population is shrinking by the day, with estimates putting it at just 16.5 million compared to 22 million before the war began. Many have been killed by guns and bombs. Others have drowned while trying to flee the terrifying war zone. Millions have become refugees, while millions more fled their homes to other parts of Syria.

In my imagination, I picture the people of the world, not their rulers, converging on Syria, unarmed, linking arms and surrounding it to demand peace. A sort of reversal of the refugee exodus. Millions of us, from the European Union, Russia, the US, the Middle East and Asia swamping Syria’s borders and standing with the Syrian people against all violence and hate.

But we won’t, will we? Because unlike the Syrian people, most of us do have something to lose. Things that Syrians used to have: homes, jobs, families and communities.

So just imagine what it must be like to lose all of these things. Then try and put yourself in the position of a mother or father who has stepped out from the rubble to walk thousands of miles with a baby strapped to their back.

Half the estimated five million Syrian refugees are children. Many are orphans, thrown to the mercy of a world that can be both compassionate and dangerous.

If we are not able to physically put our arms around Syria, perhaps we can at least give up a small part of the lives we take for granted. Our tears are not enough.

Perhaps we can sacrifice some home comforts by making a donation to help Syrian refugees that would mean giving something up – like a meal out, or that pair of shoes you don’t really need.

If everyone who was moved to tears by the photo of Omran made a donation that actually made them feel even just a little bit squeezed, our solidarity would have substance. Money can be the difference between life and death. There are many charities out there providing help to refugees. Some in Scotland like the Bridges project or Positive Action on Housing help people already here. Then there are charities like Migrant Offshore Aid Station who rescue people from drowning in the Mediterranean. There’s Hand in Hand for Syria, working directly among the bombs and bullets. The big charities like Save the Children, Medecins Sans Frontieres and Oxfam are easily found. You can donate online, by phone, by text. It’s easy.

Along with everyone else with a heart, I feel powerless as I look in horror at Syria. But we can all do something. And no matter how insignificant it might feel, it all adds up.