MAHAD HUSSEIN SALLAMConfiscated memories: sorting through pain, betraying the universalNever again for anyone, anywhere

Mahad Hussein Sallam, Blogs Mediapart, 4/8/2025

Translated by Tlaxcala

A memory under influence: thinking about justice through the prism of remembrance

‘Never again.’ This injunction, born out of the Holocaust, has become a universal moral imperative.

Engraved in museums and repeated in speeches, it claims to prevent the worst from happening again. But what is this promise worth if it only protects some and justifies the suffering of others?

Memory, far from being a sanctuary, is a battlefield. It enlightens or obscures. It can warn or conceal. When it becomes instrumentalised, it ceases to be a duty and becomes a lever of domination.

Dachau concentration camp memorial, Germany

“Never again is now” on Brandenburger Tor in Berlin, Nov. 9, 2023

Philosemitism as a moral talisman: between the duty to remember and political blindness

Ivan Segré wrote: "Philosemitism is the best way to stop being anti-Semitic while continuing to dominate. " State philosemitism transforms the memory of the Holocaust into a moral absolute. Any criticism of Israel becomes suspect. The confusion between Judaism, Zionism and the state becomes a weapon of domination.

In Gaza, more than 60,000 people have been killed, children are malnourished, journalists have been killed and hospitals destroyed. And there is a frightening media silence. Human Rights Watch, the UN and MSF are sounding the alarm: use of starvation, bombing of civilian infrastructure, war crimes. Yet to denounce these facts is to risk being accused of anti-Semitism.

A hierarchical memory: Gaza, Rwanda, Yemen, Congo and Namibia

Rwanda, 1994: 800,000 Tutsis massacred. Warnings ignored. Passive complicity of Western powers. In France, archives reveal close ties with the perpetrators of genocide. This genocide is still absent from school textbooks.

Mary Zins, 2018

Yemen, since 2015: 370,000 dead. French, British and USAmerican bombs. Cholera, famine, silence. No museum, no day of remembrance.

Today, according to international organisations, millions of children are still threatened by famine and multiple epidemics.

Severed Hands, by Adel Abdessemed

Leopold II's Congo: more than 10 million dead for rubber. Hands cut off, villages burned down. Silence again, a century later. In 2020, King Philippe expressed ‘regret’, but without an official apology or reparations.

Herero fleeing German troops in the Omaheke Desert (1907). Ulstein Bild / Roger-Viollet

Herero and Nama: the first genocide of the 20th century

In Namibia, between 1904 and 1908, the Germans exterminated 80% of the Herero and 50% of the Nama. The official order of General von Trotha, October 1904: ‘Every Herero found within the German border, with or without weapons, with or without cattle, will be shot.’ Concentration camps, rape, medical experiments. Skulls were sent to Berlin for racial studies. The 2021 recognition remains symbolic. No reparations, no shared memory, no special attention as long as it happens on another continent.

A Namibian historian sums it up: ‘The Herero genocide is the missing link between 19th-century imperialism and Nazism.’ But Europe has learned nothing. The crime has been erased from our shared history.

The geopolitics of memory: who benefits from remembering?

Some pain is sanctified, other pain is rejected.

Israel benefits from a unique historical capital linked to the Holocaust and the post-colonial order. This capital also serves as a geopolitical shield. Memory becomes a tool for forgetting. Auschwitz is taught, Sabra and Shatila are silenced. Philosemitism is not love for Jews: it is the strategic use of their history.

A European diplomat admits: ‘Recognising Gaza as a human tragedy would be to delegitimise our alliance with Israel. It is politically unthinkable.’

Historical memory is never neutral. It is hierarchical, instrumentalised and calibrated according to geopolitical interests. In the West, some suffering is sanctified, while other suffering is silenced or relegated.

Israel today benefits from unparalleled historical capital. This is explained, of course, by the horror of the Holocaust, but also by the strategic context in which this memory was recognised: that of a post-imperial world in which Western powers were redrawing the contours of their influence. The memory of the Jewish extermination has become, alongside ethical recognition, a moral guarantee for a new architecture of alliances in the Middle East.

This brutal equation highlights an uncomfortable truth: the memory of some peoples is protected because it serves certain interests. The memory of others is erased because it disturbs them.

We commemorate Auschwitz, but not Sabra and Shatila. We criminalise the denial of Nazi crimes, but we relativise the deaths in Rafah. Memory becomes a tool of diplomacy, a weapon of moral selection. Oil, gas, raw materials, geopolitics and strategic interests: these are, unfortunately, the real headlines under which many human tragedies are written, whether we recognise them or deny them.

Philosemitism versus Judaism?

The sacred use of memory prevents any criticism. Annette Wieviorka: "We have frozen Jewish suffering in a sacralisation. " Philosemitism is becoming a trap.

Jewish thinkers such as Ilan Pappé, Norman Finkelstein and Marc Ellis denounce the confusion between Judaism and colonialism. For them, it is fidelity to Jewish ethics that dictates opposition to oppression, even when it is perpetrated by a state claiming to be Jewish.

What if this apparent excess of love becomes another form of betrayal? This is what Israeli journalist Gideon Levy denounces: ‘Israel is not protecting the moral heritage of Judaism, it is betraying it.’

The instrumentalisation of the Holocaust is now being used to sanctify a state that bombs, colonises and discriminates. This sanctification creates an implicit hierarchy of suffering.

The result is that any criticism of Israel becomes suspect. Memory becomes an ideological shield. As Dominique Vidal so aptly puts it: "The risk is that other genocides become second-rate tragedies. ‘

Modern philosemitism, excessive admiration and political untouchability no longer protect Jews; they lock them into a role as sacred icons in the service of power.

Abel Herzberg put it succinctly: ’There are two kinds of anti-Semites: those who hate us and those who love us too much."

Gideon Levy also denounces a Jewish state that has become racial, unequal and exclusive. He is not alone. Other Jewish thinkers, Ilan Pappé, Norman Finkelstein and Avraham Burg, are sounding the same alarm: confusing Judaism and Zionism is harmful to everyone. Marc Ellis concludes: ‘The only way to honour Jewish memory is to stand with the oppressed, not the oppressors.’

A universal memory or nothing

Memory must not pick and choose among the dead. It must not legitimise the forgetting of the living. It must disarm narratives, embrace all pain, and teach all tragedies.

This text is a call to action. Teach about the Rwandan genocide, colonial massacres, the famine in Gaza, the plight of Yemen, with the same solemnity as the Holocaust. Not to relativise, but to universalise.

Let ‘never again’ not be a mere slogan emptied of meaning, but a real demand. For selective memory is always a prelude to further violence. Universalism begins when memory ceases to be a weapon. A memory that sorts the dead always ends up justifying the living who kill.

Colombian mercenaries, UAE money, Sudanese bloodMercenarios colombianos, dinero de los Emiratos Árabes Unidos, sangre sudanesaMercenaires colombiens, argent des Émirats arabes unis, sang soudanaisمرتزقة كولومبيون، أموال إماراتية، ودماء سودانية: دعوة للمساءلة

Read in English

رسالة مفتوحة إلى كولومبيا: مرتزقة كولومبيون، أموال إماراتية، ودماء سودانية: دعوة للمساءلة

Mercenarios colombianos, dinero de los Emiratos Árabes Unidos, sangre sudanesa: un llamado a la responsabilidad
Carta abierta al presidente Petro y al pueblo de Colombia
Mercenaires colombiens, argent des Émirats arabes unis, sang soudanais : un appel à la responsabilité
Lettre ouverte au président Petro et au peuple de Colombie

He solicitado mensaje de urgencia para el proyecto de ley que prohibe el mercenarismo. Es también una trata de hombres convertidos en mercancías para matar.

Tanta guerra quisieron dentro de Colombia, que al debilitarse la guerra en el país, la buscan fuera, donde nadie nos ha… https://t.co/97uFhv81j9 — Gustavo Petro (@petrogustavo) August 6, 2025

#ÚLTIMAHORA | El Ejército de Sudán derriba un avión emiratí con mercenarios colombianos, según la televisión oficial sudanesa. pic.twitter.com/XJAtnDPAgh

SERGIO FERRARIAgroecology is profitable The myth of low “organic” productivity falls

 Sergio Ferrari, 7/8/2025
Translated by Tlaxcala

A productive myth falls. Science proves that organic agriculture is effective. Criticism from large-scale conventional agriculture fades away.

Agroecology as a means of ensuring food sovereignty is one of the key proposals of La Vía Campesina

For decades, the debate on the present and future of agriculture has pitted two almost antagonistic visions against each other. On the one hand, the conventional model, focused on maximizing yields, which combines technology, agrochemicals, and huge monocultures. On the other, organic-bio or agroecological proposals, considered interesting but questioned for being “less productive.” Behind each vision are large-scale agro-export production and ecological alternatives defended, among others, by social movements in rural areas. 

Rigorous fieldwork conducted over 47 years on 97 organic plots in Therwil, Switzerland, jointly sponsored by the Research Institute of Organic Agriculture (FiBL) and the Swiss Confederation's center of excellence for agricultural research (Agroscope), concluded that these plots achieved, an average yield equivalent to 85% of that of conventional plots and that this difference depends largely on the type of crop analysed. For example, organic soybeans achieved similar levels to conventional soybeans, and slight differences were recorded in forage crops such as clover grass and silage corn, while the difference was greater in the case of organic wheat and potatoes.

According to this study, known as DOC (D for biodynamic, O for organic, and C for conventional), the large gap between organic and conventional production has to do with the environmental impact of each. In fact, organic farming uses 92% less pesticides and 76% less mineral nitrogen than conventional farming. In organic crops, the reduction in the use of nitrogen fertilizers is the main factor in a much lower climate impact. Excess nitrogen from fertilizers is converted into nitrous oxide, a gas with significant negative consequences for the climate.

As the study states, it is true that the reduction in the use of fertilizers and plant protection products leads to greater yield variation in organic systems than in conventional systems, resulting in less stable productivity. However, the risk of water and food contamination (for humans and animals) with harmful substances is significantly lower.

The 8th edition of the Peasant Festival in Rondônia, Brazil, in July 2025 brought together all the diversity and richness of traditional peoples. Photo REC UNIR Research and Extension Group

Prestigious organic farming certification

Conventional farming, also known as industrial or traditional agriculture, involves the intensive use of external inputs such as synthetic fertilizers, pesticides, and herbicides, as well as improved seeds to maximize production. These crops are the cornerstone of the agro-export model of transnational corporations, particularly those in the food and agrochemical industries. This model focuses on efficiency and high productivity through modern technologies applied to large areas dedicated to monoculture, i.e., the planting of a single species on a huge area. Examples include soybeans, eucalyptus, oil palm, pine, corn, and sugarcane.

In addition to the large number of researchers dedicated to the DOC project, its importance lies in its nearly half-century of comparative studies and systematic data collection. These are essential elements in this type of research because the effects of converting a conventional agricultural system to a biodynamic or organic one only become apparent after a long time. This long “waiting period” is due, among other factors, to the slow pace of soil transformation processes, such as the accumulation of stable organic matter. To date, some 140 specialized scientific publications, as well as numerous master’s and doctoral theses, have drawn on the systematic findings of the DOC. 

This study provides other equally relevant conclusions. In organically cultivated soils, for example, humus levels have been found to be approximately 16% higher, with up to 83% more activity from soil organisms than in conventional plots. This is undoubtedly a particularly positive effect for the soil, which is now better able to store more water and reduce the impact of erosion. (Study here)

Theses confirmed in the Global South

The DOC’s research has inspired similar initiatives in Switzerland, such as the FAST and Burgrain projects (promoted by Agroscope), as well as in other countries. For example, several long-term comparative trials of farming systems (or SysCom, for “System Comparison”) such as those conducted by FiBL in Bolivia (cocoa cultivation), India (cotton), and Kenya (a wider range of staple foods, mainly corn and potatoes).

Other practical experiences in Africa confirm the optimistic conclusions of the DOC study on organic production. The Swiss non-governmental organization SWISSAID, with its local partner in Tanzania, has promoted a research project that has conclusively confirmed the benefits of the economic mechanisms identified by the Therwil study.

The agroecological center managed by the Tet Kole Movement in Haiti produces hundreds of seeds that are distributed to local farmers. Photo Rodrigo Durão, Brasil de Fato

In a recent article, SWISSAID concluded that “after five years of transition, farmers participating in the CROPS4HD project have massively reduced their expenditure on external inputs.” This project aims to improve food quality and overall agricultural resilience by taking advantage of “orphan” or underutilized crops that nevertheless perform very well in marginal environments and also have high nutritional value.

Economic analysis reveals that, paradoxically, conventional farms have higher production costs per hectare due to their dependence on chemical fertilizers and pesticides, confirming the economic trap of excessive profits in agribusiness. SWISSAID explains that organic production redistributes profits among farmers, not among shareholders of transnational corporations and publicly traded agricultural companies. In the case of Tanzania, the farms that have made the most progress in the agroecological transition process have lower costs and higher net incomes, confirming that the relatively lower yield of 15% is more than offset by the benefits that remain in the hands of the producers. This economic reappropriation is accompanied by strategic diversification: the project develops “orphan” species, i.e., species with little or no plant breeding and no current export prospects, but which are very important for local food sovereignty, such as amaranth, millet, fonio, and Bambara beans. In this way, new locally controlled value chains have been created.

This relative productive independence is not only an advantage for the environment; it is also a fundamental lever for a different form of economic power at the service of direct farmers. In the conventional system, farmers are often the weak link in a value chain that is larger than themselves. As a result, they are subject to the volatility of fertilizer and pesticide prices, a market controlled by a handful of multinationals, while also suffering pressure from supermarkets on the selling prices of their own products. Much of the value these farmers generate is captured by their suppliers, processors, and distributors.

Women farmers in Tanzania use simple technologies to assess the growth of local crops. Photo SWISSAID

In a world facing climate change, biodiversity loss, and market volatility, the promoters of this project in Tanzania believe that farmers’ resilience and autonomy are no longer options but imperatives. This is especially true in the most vulnerable countries of the South, where every disruption in supply chains exacerbates food insecurity among the population.

The disqualifications are melting away. The myth that equates organic with higher costs is beginning to fade. And organic is being projected not only as healthy and environmentally friendly, but also as accessible to the popular economy.

MAHAD HUSSEIN SALLAMDelegating without resolving: how the major powers are outsourcing their crises

Mahad Hussein Sallam (bio), Mediapart, Aug. 1, 2025
Translated by Tlaxcala

Outsourcing borders, prisons, wars: the major powers are delegating crisis management to authoritarian regimes, private companies, and militias. This strategy removes democracy from debate and accountability, sells off its principles, and comes at a high cost to citizens and the most vulnerable. It is a historic shift toward distant power that shirks its own consequences.

 Faced with major challenges such as migration, security, justice, armed conflict, and foreign policy, the major powers are no longer repairing, they are transferring.

Subcontracting to authoritarian regimes, outsourcing to gray areas, sending people to distant peripheries: everything is decided far from the public eye, far from rights. In the name of technocratic efficiency, states are neglecting the essentials, to the point of jeopardizing the very foundations of democracy. By delegating, they are giving up their right to govern. By shirking responsibility, they are undermining the democratic contract.

This text questions a global strategy of political abandonment, where outsourcing and transfer become a mode of governance. A mode of denial.

Emergency governments and the neglect of politics

For more than a decade, a watchword has prevailed in the management of major contemporary crises, such as migration, security, justice, and war: delegate rather than resolve.

Faced with the rapid pace of history, states, particularly in Europe but also elsewhere in the global North, are adopting a reflex that has become doctrine: outsourcing. Transfer the burden, outsource responsibility, relocate the consequences. Rather than tackling the root causes—conflicts, structural inequalities, climate change, postcolonial divide—the powers that be prefer to entrust the management of chaos to others: often authoritarian third countries, dictatorships, private companies with no democratic mandate, local militias, agencies far removed from citizen control.

This emergency governance, disguised as pragmatism, frees itself from politics. It sidesteps debate, circumvents popular sovereignty, and trivializes a form of management by delegation that empties institutions of their meaning.

Presented as an “effective” solution, this strategy is above all a way of avoiding responsibility. And, implicitly, a silent dismantling of the democratic project. Behind this strategy lies a slow, invisible but very real disintegration of our democratic ideal.

What becomes of a democracy when it outsources the exercise of its sovereignty?

This is the central question, the one that is uncomfortable but must be asked: what remains of a democracy when it delegates the very exercise of its sovereignty?

When decision-making, coercion, and control no longer belong to the public sphere but to external actors who are often unknown, opaque, and unelected, what is the value of the principle of government by and for the people?

This text explores three areas where this disarticulation of democratic power has become systemic:

•    migration management, transformed into an outsourced logistical operation, often subcontracted to authoritarian regimes or private structures with no political mandate;

•        criminal justice and prisons, increasingly delegated to commercial operators or emergency territories where the rule of law is absent;

•    security and armed conflict, where the privatization of sovereign functions and their delegation to non-state actors create zones of political unaccountability.

Each time, the symptoms are the same: growing opacity, documented but unpunished abuses, structural inefficiency, and above all a radical break with the very meaning of political action.

Behind the façade of technocratic efficiency, sovereignty emptied of its democratic content is taking hold.

Sovereignty without people, without debate, without control

Migration: externalizing borders, making exile invisible, and denying the very foundations of human rights.

The 2016 EU-Turkey agreement: the matrix of European cynicism

March 2016. To muted applause in Brussels, the European Union seals a pact with Ankara. The stated objective: “to stem the flow of migrants.”. The real objective: to deter, repel, and make invisible.

In exchange for €6 billion, promises on visas, and a vague hope of reviving accession negotiations, Turkey agreed to take back all “irregular” migrants arriving on Greek shores. Donald Tusk, then President of the European Council, saw this as a “fair and balanced” compromise.

The reality is quite different: a fool's bargain, in which Europe trades its demand for rights for the outsourcing of its humanity. Recep Tayyip Erdoğan quickly turned the agreement into a tool for blackmail, threatening to “open the floodgates” to force Brussels to bow to his geopolitical interests.

Behind the hushed language of diplomacy, a rupture has taken place: the outsourcing of migration crisis management is becoming the norm, sovereignty is becoming a transaction, dignity is becoming an adjustment variable. Far from being an isolated case, this pact is becoming a replicable model of deliberate renunciation.

A systemic strategy: migration deals with autocrats

Libya: more than €700 million paid between 2017 and 2023 to coast guards accused of violence, racketeering, and slavery. Exiles intercepted in the Mediterranean Sea are sent back to detention camps denounced as “lawless zones” by the UN.

Tunisia: barely signed in 2023, a memorandum of understanding with Kaïs Saïed (€105 million to “prevent departures”) has led to sub-Saharan migrants being abandoned in the desert, on the brink of death.

Egypt: In March 2024, Brussels commits €7.4 billion to Abdel Fattah al-Sissi's regime. Officially for “stability.” Unofficially to buy an end to departures. All this while tens of thousands of political prisoners languish in Cairo's prisons.

Sudan: without any official agreement, European funds are being channeled through NGOs to areas controlled by the Rapid Support Forces, led by Hemedti, who is accused of crimes against humanity.

This is no longer a policy, it is a globalized system of delegating inhospitability. A migration diplomacy built on rights violations, with checks and complicit silence.

Rwanda: a laboratory for outsourced asylum

There, far from European eyes, a new milestone has been reached. The United Kingdom and Denmark have signed a partnership agreement with Paul Kagame's regime: rejected asylum seekers will be sent to Kigali, a country where the press is muzzled, the opposition silenced, and there are no countervailing powers.

Officially, it is a stable country. Unofficially, it is an authoritarian state transformed into a deportation hub.

“Asylum is no longer a right. It is a geopolitical adjustment variable,” warns Amnesty International.

Delegating hospitality: ethics turned on its head

The mechanism is now well-oiled: pay to avoid taking people in, cooperate to better offload them, negotiate at the cost of human lives.

 The moral cost is invisible but profound:

• The root causes of migration—conflict, global warming, structural poverty—are neither resolved nor contained. Worse, they are often exacerbated by the very policies of the powers that claim to be fighting them. And the height of cynicism is that refugees who have fled repression, war, or the absence of the rule of law find themselves handed over to the very regimes they left behind, due to a lack of democracy, freedom, and protection.

•    Exiles are turned into commodities, objects to be bartered between chancelleries.

•        European societies are sinking into denial, lulling themselves into a fantasy of control while the far right thrives on this mechanism of rejection.

Outsourcing borders means refusing to look at what we are producing: lives destroyed, rights trampled, democracy in decline. It means shifting exile elsewhere so that we can better forget what it says about us.

Justice and repression: prison as an outsourced service

Prisons abroad: when Europe outsources its convicts

What states refuse to take responsibility for on their own soil, they export. This is the new frontier of contemporary punishment: outsourcing imprisonment.

Norway, 2015. The government rents 242 places in the Dutch prison of Veenhuizen. Norwegian law is supposed to apply there, but the staff are Dutch, as are the walls. Justice becomes a service, adjusted by contract.

Denmark, 2021. This is a step further: €210 million to transfer 300 convicted migrants to a prison in Kosovo. The deal is clear: rid the country of these “unwanted” prisoners.

 Sweden, 2025. The government announces plans to outsource part of its prison system to other European countries.

Belgium, already a pioneer between 2010 and 2016, spent €300 million to rent 650 cells in the Netherlands. A “partnership” in appearance, punitive outsourcing in reality.

Behind these figures lies a managerial logic of punishment. Imprisonment is becoming a budgetary adjustment variable, an accounting item that can be exported at will. Prison is no longer a place of rehabilitation or justice, but a human warehouse with a changeable geography.

Outsourcing punishment: a double social penalty

The human cost is ignored:

•    Removal = isolation. Prisoners sent abroad are deprived of their family ties and all social roots.

•    Reintegration compromised. How can you rebuild your life from a cell hundreds of miles from home, in another country, sometimes in another language?

•    Permanent legal uncertainty. Between two legal systems, prisoners' rights become uncertain, contestable, invisible.

In this system, prison sentences cease to be an act of justice. They become a logistical service, outsourced and trivialized. The convicted person becomes an object circulating in a deregulated penal space.

Readmission agreements: exclusion under contract

But prison outsourcing is only the tip of the iceberg. At a deeper level, states are organizing another form of punitive delegation: readmission agreements.

A telling example is Switzerland and Swaziland (now Eswatini). An agreement allows Bern to return people deemed “undesirable” to Swaziland, even if they are neither from nor have ties to that country.

In practice, this means deportations without a solid legal basis to a regime classified as authoritarian by Freedom House.

Here, “cooperation” is just a word to mask the abandonment of the law. We no longer judge, we transfer. We no longer protect, we expel.

Outsourcing justice means abandoning our humanity. It means treating prison sentences as a cost rather than a political act.

Above all, it means renouncing the democratic promise of fair, public, and controlled justice. When the state punishes from a distance, it abdicates its responsibility. And citizens become a line item in the budget.

War: proxy conflicts, outsourced violence

•    With the blessing of the United States, on the night of March 25-26, 2015, Saudi Arabia launched Operation Decisive Storm in Yemen, with the support of a Sunni Arab coalition, in what was already shaping up to be a proxy war. Behind the scenes, Mohamed Ben Zayed, humiliated by Iran's confiscation of three islands, reportedly declared: “We will confront the Iranians in Yemen,”  thus delivering an entire country to the logic of a regional confrontation disguised as stabilization.

•    In Ukraine, European states and the United States  are supplying weapons without taking responsibility for post-conflict management.

•    In the Sahel, French forces are withdrawing, leaving the field open to private militias or Wagner.

•    In Syria, gray areas of control are multiplying, with no clear mandate.

Who is responsible for the crimes? Who is watching? Who decides? No one.

What this delegation is doing to our societies

• Democratic fatigue: decisions are taken without public debate.

• Fragmentation: insecurity, polarization, radicalization.

• Loss of meaning: what is the point of democracy if it no longer protects us?

Democracies on subcontract: the end of a model?

We thought we had contained the crisis. In reality, we have exported it.

We have built a policy of avoidance: short-term, technocratic, depoliticized. A model where problems are transferred far away, where silence is bought, where agreements are signed with authoritarian regimes to “manage” what we no longer want to see: migration, wars, prisons, lives.

Behind every agreement, every deportation, every outsourced base, there is a renunciation:

• Renunciation of our democratic principles.

• Renunciation of transparency and debate.

• Renouncing the universal values we claim to embody.

But this cynicism comes at a price. A colossal price, which the peoples themselves are paying, and will continue to pay.

Billions of euros are being spent on outsourcing crisis management, while in our cities, our countryside, and our neighbourhoods, public services are falling apart, precariousness is on the rise, and inequalities are exploding.

Politicians have their eyes only fixed on the next election. Even the opposition now seems trapped in a logic of political marketing, cut off from the real concerns of citizens. Visions for society seem to be a distant memory.

Democracy is becoming an empty shell, a slogan without substance.

What we have outsourced is not just crisis management.

It is political responsibility itself.

So let's ask the real questions:

Are we at a turning point in our history?

Have we given up on governing so that we no longer have to choose?

And what remains of a democracy when it refuses to face up to what it produces?

Any crisis we refuse to face here, that we transfer, make invisible, or outsource, always comes back. But this time, not as a fact to be managed, but as a wounded memory, turned against us, against our principles, against our society itself.