By Xhabir Deralla
Democracy will be gone when we accept becoming servants of self-proclaimed kings who believe they own our lives, bodies and minds. It will be the end of democracy when we accept the reality imposed on us and stop thinking.
It will be the end of democracy when we give up freedom and dignity in exchange for false comfort. When we say Ukraine is far away and none of our business. When we tell ourselves that fewer deaths in Gaza would be enough to stop caring, as though there were an acceptable daily quota of human lives.
That is when the darkness seeps into our minds and souls – and we become batteries for their power.
The end of democracy will not necessarily arrive with fanfare, the rumble of tanks and armoured personnel carriers, or fighter jets overhead. It can arrive in our minds – in our compliance when we are told to be silent, to look away, to stay at home when people take to the streets. In our willingness to stop questioning the lies. And, perhaps most dangerously, in our indifference to injustice, lies and crimes.
When we grow cold in the face of war crimes and genocide – whether from the distant past, within living memory, or unfolding before our eyes. When we change the channel as news arrives of children in Kyiv killed by bombs or drones.
Democracy lives in our institutions and political systems. It also lives in our minds, in our sense of dignity and solidarity – in our humanity. When institutions or powerful structures, at home or anywhere in the world, go rogue, the struggle is not over. Alert, defiant citizens are democracy’s last line of defence. It stands a chance as long as there are people – individuals and communities – who refuse to bow.
That refusal takes many forms. A journalist who keeps investigating. A neighbour who stands up for those under threat. Citizens who connect, demand answers and refuse to let crimes be obscured by PR spectacles. None of them can carry the whole struggle alone. Together, they can make resistance possible for others.
Do you recognise yourself in any of this? Are you silent? Do you look away? Or do you keep asking questions, even when the answers are uncomfortable and may cause you trouble?
Courage is not the absence of fear. Courage is finding ways to act – and helping others act – despite that fear.
Do you say: The struggle of Ukraine is my struggle too? The state of democracy in the United States, Europe or anywhere else in the world concerns me too?
If your answer is yes, democracy still has a chance to survive and flourish. Every person who refuses to surrender makes it easier for another to stand up.
Solidarity begins when someone else’s suffering becomes reason enough for you to do something. You do not have to wait for the same violence, the same humiliation, the same knock on your own door.
Keep going. You are not alone.
This article is part of CIVIL’s initiative marking the International Day of Democracy, 15 September. At CIVIL’s invitation, contributors from different fields share their reflections on the state, challenges and defence of democracy. The views expressed are those of the author.
To mark International Day of Democracy, read the statements from CIVIL – Your voice. Your freedom. Our democracy. – and DDGI and WA4U – Defending democracy. Standing with Ukraine.
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