History repeatedly reminds us that war rarely harms only those who initiate it [1]. Political leaders may debate strategy and national interest, but the immediate consequences are often felt by ordinary people who had no voice in the conflict. Across cultures, societies have long recognized the tragic reality that conflicts among powerful actors often harm those who possess little influence over the situation [2]. The Malay proverb “Apabila gajah bergaduh, pelanduk mati di tengah-tengah” expresses this truth vividly. Similar wisdom appears in the English saying “When elephants fight, the grass suffers.” (Figure 1) Though originating from different cultural traditions, these expressions share the same moral insight: the consequences of power struggles frequently fall upon innocent individuals who are simply caught in the middle.

Figure 1: Conceptual illustration of the proverb “Apabila gajah bergaduh, pelanduk mati di tengah-tengah.”

The cartoon depicts two large elephants confronting each other while a small mousedeer lies helplessly between them, and the grass suffers too. This cartoon is generated using ChatGPT using a prompt after several trials and errors and some editing to fit the purpose of this paper.

Recently, several students were stranded in the Middle East because of escalating regional tensions. Their situation reflects a broader pattern in which geopolitical conflicts disrupt the lives of civilians, including international students pursuing education far from home. In the case described here, students in Kuwait and Qatar found themselves unable to return to Malaysia for their studies due to uncertainties surrounding travel safety and regional instability. This is not a rare phenomenon. Armed conflicts have long been associated with disruptions in education, mobility, and academic continuity for students worldwide [3,4].

From the perspective of an academic advisor, these situations reveal a difficult truth: universities operate within global systems that are vulnerable to political crises beyond institutional control. Educators may design curricula, assessments, and learning schedules, but war can instantly render these carefully structured plans fragile. Such moments remind us that education does not exist in isolation from global realities.

Education is often described as a pathway to stability and opportunity. However, armed conflict frequently interrupts educational systems at multiple levels. Schools and universities may be closed, transportation routes may become unsafe, and international mobility can be severely restricted. Students studying abroad often face additional complications, including visa restrictions, travel bans, and the absence of support networks.

Research has consistently shown that conflicts disrupt educational continuity and increase psychological stress among students affected by war [5]. Even when physical infrastructure remains intact, uncertainty and fear can significantly affect students’ academic engagement and well-being. In the case of international students stranded abroad, the disruption is compounded by geographical distance from their universities and limited access to academic resources.

Universities frequently attempt to mitigate these challenges through flexible learning arrangements. Hybrid teaching or remote lectures may provide temporary solutions. However, certain academic components, particularly laboratory practical sessions, cannot easily be replaced through online alternatives. Practical learning often requires specialized equipment, controlled environments, and direct supervision, making remote substitutes academically inadequate. Thus, students caught in geopolitical conflicts often face the difficult possibility of delaying their studies or deferring their academic progress.

War is often discussed through statistics: casualties, economic losses, and territorial changes. Yet, behind every statistic lies a human story. Students stranded abroad are not merely administrative cases; they are individuals with aspirations, families, and personal struggles.

The proverb about elephants fighting and the mousedeer dying speaks directly to this imbalance of power. Political leaders, military institutions, and geopolitical interests represent the “elephants.” Students, civilians, children, un-armed people, women (mothers, grandmothers etc.), and migrant workers represent the “mousedeer.” When conflict erupts, those with the least influence over political decisions often experience the greatest disruption.

Scholars of conflict studies have long emphasized that civilians bear the majority of the burden during modern warfare [6]. Contemporary conflicts increasingly blur the boundaries between military targets and civilian environments, meaning that ordinary people often experience indirect but profound consequences such as displacement, travel restrictions, and economic instability.

In the academic environment, these consequences manifest as interrupted semesters, missed examinations, and difficult decisions about whether students should defer their studies. For educators, advising students in such situations is not merely a procedural task but a moral responsibility that requires empathy and understanding.

Universities are often perceived as institutions of knowledge, but they are also communities responsible for the well-being of their members. When students face external crises such as war, universities must respond with compassion and flexibility.

Policies such as semester deferment, hybrid learning arrangements, and academic advising support can help mitigate the immediate impacts of conflict. However, institutional responses must balance academic standards with humanitarian considerations. Maintaining academic integrity while supporting vulnerable students is not always straightforward.

Scholars have argued that universities must adopt crisis-sensitive policies that acknowledge the broader social context affecting students’ lives [7]. Educational institutions cannot control geopolitical conflicts, but they can ensure that affected students are not further disadvantaged by rigid administrative structures.

For educators, the responsibility extends beyond policies. It involves listening to students, acknowledging their struggles, and recognizing that academic performance may be influenced by circumstances far beyond their control.

The wisdom embedded in traditional proverbs often captures complex realities more clearly than lengthy political analysis. The phrase about elephants and the mousedeer reminds us that power asymmetry shapes the outcomes of conflict.

In modern geopolitical conflicts, powerful states negotiate strategies, alliances, and military operations. Yet the consequences ripple outward to individuals whose only desire is to live, learn, and build their future. A student stranded far from campus due to war becomes a symbol of this imbalance.

As educators, moments like these remind us that teaching is not only about delivering knowledge. It is also about guiding students through uncertainties. When global events interrupt their academic journey, the role of a teacher expands to include compassion, patience, and practical guidance.

Ultimately, the proverb remains painfully accurate. When giants clash, the smallest and most innocent often bear the cost.

Geopolitical conflicts often appear in news headlines as strategic events involving states, military alliances, and political negotiations. Yet, behind these large narratives are ordinary individuals whose lives are suddenly disrupted by forces beyond their control. Students stranded abroad during periods of conflict illustrate this vulnerability clearly. Their academic journeys, personal safety, and future aspirations can be abruptly interrupted when borders close, flights are cancelled, or regional security deteriorates. Such situations remind us that education, mobility, and intellectual development are not isolated from global political stability but are closely intertwined with it. The experiences of these students reveal how quickly the pathways of learning and opportunity can be affected by distant geopolitical tensions.

Within this context, higher education institutions carry an important ethical responsibility. Universities cannot prevent wars or geopolitical crises, but they can respond with compassion, flexibility, and institutional wisdom. Academic policies that allow temporary adjustments in attendance, assessment, or practical requirements can make a meaningful difference to students facing extraordinary circumstances. More importantly, these responses affirm that universities remain spaces of human understanding rather than rigid bureaucratic systems. Educational institutions are not merely places of knowledge transmission; they are communities that must protect the dignity and well-being of those who seek learning within them.

This reflection also highlights the importance of empathy in academic leadership and mentorship. Educators often interact with students through structured courses, assignments, and evaluations, but moments of crisis reveal the deeper human dimension of education. When students face uncertainty due to war or geopolitical instability, supportive communication and thoughtful decision-making can help sustain their academic motivation and psychological resilience. Such actions demonstrate that education is not only about intellectual growth but also about care, responsibility, and the preservation of hope during difficult times.

Ultimately, the experiences of students stranded during geopolitical crises remind us that education exists within a complex and unpredictable world. When the giants of geopolitics clash, the smallest individuals must not be forgotten. The role of universities and educators is therefore not only to advance knowledge but also to safeguard the continuity of learning for those affected by global instability. By responding with empathy, flexibility, and ethical responsibility, academic institutions can help ensure that students continue their educational journeys even amid the turbulence of international conflict.

The author declares that generative artificial intelligence tools were used in a supportive capacity during the preparation of this manuscript. These tools assisted with language refinement, structural organisation, and stylistic clarity of the text. All ideas, interpretations, reflections, and conclusions presented in this paper are the author’s own and are grounded in personal experience and scholarly judgment. The author retains full responsibility for the content, accuracy, originality, and integrity of the manuscript.

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