Human-Rights

Silence Is a Position

I am often told that I should be more careful. That I should consider the political implications of what I say. That naming names and identifying perpetrators is dangerous, divisive, and counterproductive.

I have considered it. I reject it.

Silence, in the face of visible injustice, is not caution. It is complicity. And I refuse to be complicit.

The Myth of Neutrality

There is a persistent belief – especially among institutions, media organizations, and professionals – that it is possible to remain neutral in the face of injustice. That by not taking a side, you avoid becoming part of the problem.

The Cost of Disconnection

The internet went down. Not from a technical failure. From a decision.

Someone in a government office decided that the people in a specific region, at a specific time, should not be able to communicate with each other or with the outside world. The decision was implemented. The network went dark.

This is an internet shutdown, and it is the most underreported form of political repression in the world today.

Who Counts the Dead

A number appeared in the news this week. A body count. It was reported in the headline, repeated in the first paragraph, and contextualized in the third with a comparison to previous years’ figures.

No names. No ages. No descriptions of who these people were before they became a statistic.

I want to talk about this, because the way we count the dead reveals what we think the dead are worth.

The System Is Not Broken

I hear the phrase constantly. From journalists, from politicians, from well-meaning advocates. “The system is broken.” They say it about healthcare, about housing, about criminal justice, about education. They say it with frustration and sincerity, and they are wrong.

The system is not broken. It is working.

This is not a semantic distinction. It is a diagnostic one, and getting the diagnosis wrong means getting the treatment wrong.

The Difference

When you say a system is broken, you imply that it was designed to produce a different outcome than the one it is producing. You imply that the current outcome is an error – a malfunction, a deviation from the intended purpose. And the logical response to a malfunction is repair: fix the broken part, and the system will resume its proper function.

The Distance Between the Podium and the Ground

There is a distance – measurable, observable, and damning – between the place where poverty is discussed and the place where poverty is lived.

At the podium, poverty is a policy challenge. It is a line item, a percentage, a target for reduction. It is discussed in terms of programs and metrics and five-year plans. The language is clean. The rooms are air-conditioned. The speakers are well-fed.

On the ground, poverty is a mother choosing which of her children eats today. It is a clinic with one doctor for four thousand people. It is a school where thirty students share ten textbooks, half of which are outdated. It is not a policy challenge. It is a daily negotiation with survival.

I Went to the Settlement

They told me the relocation was voluntary. They told me the families were given notice. They told me the process was conducted with dignity and in accordance with the law.

I went to the settlement.

I want to be precise about what I saw, because precision is the enemy of the official narrative, and the official narrative is what I am here to dismantle.

What I Found

The settlement is on the eastern edge of the city, where the paved roads end and the unpaved roads begin. Forty-three families were living there two weeks ago. Today, the structures are gone. What remains are concrete foundations, scattered belongings, and the marks in the earth where walls used to be.