We Move: Bearing Witness, Daring to be Brave and Resisting the Machine of Oppression from The Uncharitable Team, Words by Khadijah Diskin
A letter introducing Bearing Witness from the Uncharitable Team, words by Educator, Writer and Consultant, Khadijah Diskin.
“Let these moments radicalise you rather than lead you to despair.”
Dear Reader,
The last few years of human existence have felt unbearably heavy, and many of us have been sitting in quiet despair. Some, however, have been tirelessly working towards the dismantling of the machine of oppression. We are turning ourselves inside out, fracturing ourselves in many ways to offer the scarce resources of survival, hope and a vision of a different future. In some spaces, it may feel like there are many of us on this path of liberation; in others, our numbers are few, but regardless of how we quantify ourselves in those moments, the journey towards liberation is one we are all on from Turtle Island to Aotearoa. Some days, it may feel like we're sprinting through the journey like an unstoppable force; on other days, we may only muster a few shuffles but still move.
Naming the Machine
The machine we are fighting against is centuries old, crafted from the most durable of substances: global capitalism and its armoury of patriarchy, imperialism, climate devastation, transphobia, ableism and many other weapons it fashions against us. This beast is technologically advanced, with all the world's systems at its disposal. It has resources beyond our conception. It is material, visible daily, as it crafts our reality. It is metaphysical, intangible, yet powerful; the stuff of myths and stories penetrating our psyches distorts our perception of our true reality and restructures our entire consciousness towards an experience it cultivates for us.
The machine of oppression thrives on our despair, on the belief that it is an unmovable, unchangeable force, that we are both dependent on it for our survival and destined to be destroyed by it. In despair, we lose the capacity to imagine, commune, thrive, and be brave.
We are all bearing witness to the true face of oppression, as we always have, yet today, it wears new clothes and is embroidered with new tapestries, some of which look like our kente weaves or zarzodi. The question of Palestine exposes to us the realities of unabashed imperialism, where children only days old are rendered so outside of humanity that they do not deserve to be mourned. The question of Sudan reminds us of how, without showing, imperialism expands and can mobilise its proxies in places like the UAE. This is done to ensure death and destruction are the routes through which supply chains of capital continue to flow towards cities like Dubai, which are built on enslavement. The question of Congo reminds us that Black life is worth less than our ability to charge our phones and that child slavery is ok because Apple just released a Barbie pink iPhone.
The Cost of Being Brave
Oppression exists to tire us out, burn us out. It tells us that the “Rules Based Order” designed by Euro-American Global domination is an immutable truth. We are told:
That the repression of women, trans and gender non-conforming folk is necessary.
Creating a hierarchical racial classification of people based on our somatic (bodily) differences is necessary.
Our exploitation in the imperial core and the hyper-exploitation of others in the peripheries is necessary.
The devaluing and mistreatment of those who are disabled and currently being disabled is necessary.
That the destruction of our world, our earth, is necessary because, well, you know, we can colonise Mars.
We exist in a reality where even those of us cushioned by the empire and daring to name oppression or even whisper its name are exposed to symbolic violence. In other cases, it cuts off our access to material resources such as employment or having the places we live publicly exposed to people called to enact violence against us. When we demand repair, we are instead met with carceral, punitive measures practised on those exceptionalised as the “bad ones” only to have punishment perfected on bodies like ours. We are charged for holding placards of coconuts.
Charity’s Shame
And what of our sector? The sector of “be kind” is the industry of altruism.
In our sector, we are encouraged to treat the symptoms caused by oppression but never oppression itself. Oppression is the bomb, but we don’t talk about the bombs because if there were no bombs, then who would make the plasters? If we talk about the bombs, we might not get the plasters. When we access the plasters, we are told, but wait, there are so few, so we have to write an application to explain why we deserve them more than the others who also need them. But remember not to talk about the bombs. Never name who is creating these wounds, and never talk about the fact that most of those who decide where the plasters should work with the bomb manufacturers and have profited from our wounds. Never name that we are part of how the machine of oppression can change its clothes, its skin, its words, its language. Everything is great and awesome; remember to “be kind”.
And when a crisis hits us in the face, and we cannot run away from it, our sector remains silent, nervous and shifty. It capitulates in fear that it will be viewed as not ‘nice enough’; it gives us spaces of false safety. It will listen, it will learn. It takes our fury and launders it to demand more donations. It will steal our language to masquerade as better than the machine, all whilst repairing it and hiding its hands so we remain loyal, passive and distracted. It tells us to be brave, but not too brave, lest we risk its reputation. Lest we complain too much that its master no longer allows it to manufacture the tools. It tells us that process, structure, reports and evaluation are the only way to resist. We should focus on reforming and making the whips used to beat us into submission thinner; maybe put some glitter on it and an Audre Lorde quote or two for good measure. But never abolish the whips, never rage against the machine. - - - What if my KPI is that I am free?
Bravery in Bearing Witness
“Despair is not solidarity. Bearing witness can leave us feeling powerless and hopeless.
Find whatever it takes to keep hope burning bright.
Despair is not an option. Despair is not solidarity”
When our bravery is criminalised, surveilled, and threatened, we feel weakened, exhausted and overwhelmed by grief, and we may even fall into despair. In our despair, what is lost is regenerative fuel: hope. But remember - the machinery of oppression is wounded, too. It thrashes and screams in pain using the repressive apparatus of policing, funding cuts, and austerity. The machine recognises how it can be weakened and creates new armour, but cracks remain in its shield from our bravery. Our bravery in resisting injustice is a potent antidote against despair. So we must be imaginative, deliver this antidote in new forms, and be brave in whispers and shouts.
When we refuse to let go of our solidarity with Palestine. When we boycott for Congo, when we ask for all eyes on Sudan, we weaken oppression. When we bear witness, build knowledge, speak truth to power, and create the possibilities for our movements to live beyond us. We watch, we write, and we organise. We move.
With love, rage and solidarity,
The Uncharitable Team