Living in the majority world, we have learnt to expect Western hypocrisy. We are used to the rhetoric on democracy accompanying active support of pliant dictators.? We see Western governments preaching human rights, while actively engaging in torture.? Assisting state machineries involved in torture. We see the deification of dissidents in non-Western countries, while Western dissidents are vilified, tortured, sometimes killed. We see extrajudicial killings being approved by presidents, because it is more cost-effective.
With the persecution of??Snowden?however, they appear to have given up the pretense. No longer are they concerned with appearing to be moral. A US citizen is being victimized because he believes in the core principles of his nation?s constitution. His crime lies in being patriotic. For putting public interest before state servitude.
Snowden?is indeed guilty. He spoke the truth. He protested against injustice. He upheld the rights of the common citizen. It is a guilt I would be proud to share. He should wear it as a badge of honour.
Snowden?is doing precisely what the founding fathers of the United States would have wished him to do. The spying by NSA is an assault on all of us who genuinely believe in democracy. A belief many have died for.
From the ashes of this witch hunt, many more Snowdens will surely rise.
22nd August 2013
Stephen Dupont, Jack Picone and Tim Page are other photographers who are expressing their solidarity
Father of Edward?Snowden?issues open letter to Obama denouncing ?Orwellian surveillance programs?
Australian film director Paul Cox denounces US-led manhunt of EdwardSnowden
Deepa Mehta also protests
One thought on “And we all remain silent”
Returning Home + Bradley’s Way
How peaceful are the shades of blue above,
With streaks of white that arc across the deep…
How glorious, the greens in slanting sun,
How restful, those in shadows cool below…
How comforting, the reds and browns of bricks…
The city seems at peace, as sunset comes…
And soon enough, it will be dark again,
As blues give way to indigos and blacks.
And far from city lights, a villager
Will see, afar, the myriad burning suns…
How beautiful, this world, in which we are,
How wonderful, this fleeting chance to see…
Returning home, from frenzied place of work,
With no one home, to whom to hurry to,
A little time is found, for breathing free,
A little time, to lift the head and see,
Remembering the ones that are no more,
With sorrow ? yet with gratitude to be…
2013, June 4th Tue.
How peaceful seem those shades of blue above,
Until they see those streaks of white appear,
Those villagers, who scatter if they can,
Who seek the shadows where the elders hide,
Uncomforted. And then, the dreaded blasts
That shred the children, who were on their way.
How further, this pretense that cannot last,
This city, driven wild by Mammon’s lust,
Where children go to school to be the tools
Of those that wage those wars that have no end?
And in those growing children’s eyes, we see
The kindled fires of that insanity…
And when will soldiers sent abroad return,
And those, that fly the drones, from horrors, turn,
To see, with eyes renewed, the sky, the trees,
To watch their elders and the setting sun,
To lift their children in their arms and say,
?No more of sin. We walk on Bradley’s way.?
2013, June 8th, Sat.