Elica Le Bon الیکا ل بن
I’ve been fighting this fight for three years now, but lately, I honestly don’t even know what to say anymore. I’ve been courageous through moments of mass moral collapse. I’ve spoken with surgical clarity in the face of inversion and distortion. Every risk I took, everything I did was out of the genuine belief that truth would win in the end, and it was worth making huge sacrifices for. Lately, I find myself speechless. I’m searching for words like I’m gasping for air, and the more I search, the more hopeless I feel underneath an avalanche of distortions. Everything I predicted years ago is unfolding in real time. The Overton window has moved so far that nobody even remembers what normal is anymore, yet I feel powerless to pull it back. The truth has been so disfigured that people no longer recognize reality. The liberal democracy I’ve been fighting tooth and nail to uphold—alongside its values—has been gutted by people who have no idea what it means to lose it, and too confident in the illusion of their ideologies to care. They take what we have for granted because of their fortune that their DNA holds no memories of sabotaged systems of safety. Instead of nurturing what’s precious, they attack it like autoimmune antibodies. The hollowed out shell of liberal democracy now glorifies authoritarianism, scapegoating, and violence against minorities…all in the name of justice and humanitarianism. So what do you do? What do you do when the masses succumb more and more each day to deeper moral decay, while perceiving themselves as moral crusaders? What do you do when we’re living in an era of pure demoralization, and yet the architects of demoralization genuinely believe they are restorers of truth and coherence? When they genuinely believe tribalism, distortion, scapegoatism, moral inversions, and dehumanization is “healing” our world? That’s the irreconcilable paradox. What's the way out of this inevitable crash? I started this by saying I once believed truth would surface eventually. I still do, but not because I think we can prevent the inevitable. Instead, that a glimmer of truth might surface from the ashes to rebuild from after the world awakens from its own destruction to find that the intifada did not bring us to salvation after all. In other words, I no longer hope that the world will awaken from its sleep, but that it will be reborn from its inevitable death. Or should I say, suicide.