How Does It Feel To Have Remained Silent?
An Open Letter to Those In Power Who Silently Watched Genocide And Said Nothing
As World War 2 ended, General Dwight D. Eisenhower, declared: “Get it all on record now—get the films, get the witnesses—because somewhere down the road of history some bastard will get up and say that this never happened.”
Below is a deeply personal piece as I process these last two years. It is an angry piece. But I feel it’s important we document the reality of what we collectively witnessed. We cannot let history be whitewashed. I will always maintain hope for the future, and that hope is grounded in understanding the current reality, honestly acknolweding how we arrived at a place of genocide, and recognizing the work that remains.
Sincerely,
Qasim
On October 25, 2023, while commenting on a video of the carnage Israel had already inflicted upon Palestinian civilians, Egyptian writer and activist Omar El Akkad wrote, “One day, when it’s safe, when there’s no personal downside to calling a thing what it is, when it’s too late to hold anyone accountable, everyone will have always been against this.”
Now, some two years later, as Palestinians cling to a fragile ceasefire—one that should have been enacted on October 9, 2023, when Hamas offered to release all hostages on the single condition that Israel not enter Gaza—a condition that Israel rejected—I think about Omar’s words.
I think about the October 6, 2023 headline which read, “2023 is deadliest year for Palestinian children say human rights groups,” citing the dozens of children murdered by the Israeli military. I think about the hundreds of thousands of Palestinian lives that could have been saved since October 7, of the hundreds of Israeli lives that would have been saved, of the generations of Palestinians wiped from the Earth in a cruel, calloused, calculated genocide.
And I think about all the people in power who chose to remain silent. The politicians, Republicans and Democrats, who continued to fund Netanyahu, even after the ICJ asserted charges. Even after the ICC issued a warrant for Netanyahu’s arrest. Even after the UN confirmed Israel is committing genocide. Even after Israeli human rights organizations reported that their government is committing genocide. Even after global scholars of genocide overwhelmingly confirmed Israel is committing genocide. Even after Jewish and Israeli scholars confirmed Israel is committing genocide.
I think about the failures of President Biden. The cruelty of Donald Trump. The apathy of members of Congress, like my own Democratic Congressman Bill Foster, who refused to find a spine and call for so much as a ceasefire, while the funding bills he voted for continued to arm Netanyahu to kill one Palestinian child every hour of every day for the last two years straight. That blood will permanently stain his hands.
I think about all the City Councils I spoke before, begging them to call for a ceasefire, to divest from Israeli businesses, citing the rich examples of City Councils divesting from apartheid South Africa, to stop funding genocide—only for them to refuse to so much as take a vote. I think about the state senators and delegates who I pleaded with, but who instead pretended this genocide was not in their purview, even as states like Illinois bought tens of millions of Israeli Treasury bonds to help continue funding genocide.
I think about the politicians who profess to oppose Trump and his fascism, while proudly standing with Netanyahu in photo ops, voting for war funding, and going on media tours to excuse and whitewash his genocide.
I think about the major media outlets who claim they’re reporting “truth” and “facts” and are “unbought,” yet on this issue of genocide, they either refused to acknowledge its reality, or whitewashed it as made up.
I think about the Presidents and CEOs of big tech, big banks, and major universities, who deemed it too political to condemn genocide, even as they actively supported the Israeli military with intel and data gathering, actively suppressed content calling out genocide, and actively terminated employees and expelled students who spoke up against genocide.
I think about each and every single person entrusted with power who remained silent during these past two years of genocide, and I have only one thing to ask you.
Was it worth it?
Was it worth it to know that now, this is how history will remember you?
In the future, your children and descendants look back to see how you responded to this genocide, the way we look back at the Holocaust, and they will find nothing but your silence. They’ll hear of your accomplishments to win a seat in office, to break a glass ceiling, to achieve exemplary corporate growth—but wonder how you remained silent on the most horrific moral atrocity of our time? They’ll sit stunned at how you looked away from genocide every day, and dared look at yourself in the mirror every night. They’ll wonder how they’re supposed to remember you, knowing your cowardice, not your courage, was your most dominant characteristic.
Are you happy with your silence?
Are you happy to know that future historians will study this moment in time, and relive your silence with horror and shock?
To know that even as children were burned alive by 2000 pound bombs dropped on them as they hid in flimsy tents, you saw the videos on your phone and simply scrolled by. To know that doctors had to perform cesarian sections on mothers—on the street and without anesthesia—because the Israeli military blocked basic medical aid, but you pretended that your feminism didn’t apply? To know that as Gaza became the global center of child amputees, and that by April 2024 more bombs were dropped on Gaza than the combined bomb tonnage dropped on Dresden, Hamburg, and London in World War II—but you pretended your advocacy for children stopped at your district’s borders? To know that more journalists were killed in two years in Gaza than were killed in 27 years of Vietnam and World War 2 combined—but your free speech advocacy stopped at Jimmy Kimmel?
Do you regret your complicity?
Was your precious little political office worth it? Your eight figure CEO salary? The VC fund bonus for your silence? The University President position for punishing students who spoke out? Was the fleeting praise from people who boosted your ego because it got them access to you worth it? Was selling your soul for perceived personal gain while more than 100,000 Palestinians civilians were murdered in schools and hospitals, homes and shelters, mosques and churches, libraries and town squares, worth it? And will you finally now raise your voice to demand an end to Israeli apartheid? An end to anti-BDS legislation? An end to a policy of denying Palestinian statehood? And a prosecution of those who committed genocide and war crimes?
Or will your silence continue to dominate you?
If there’s one lesson we’ve learned over the last two years is that our world needs new leaders. Our country, our states, and our cities, need new leaders. New teachers, new public servants, new voices in media, new activists for human rights—those with the courage to uphold justice above all else.
Because here’s the truth for our current leaders, whose silence conquered their conscience. Whatever you rationalize. However you convinced yourself that your silence was worth it, I can promise you this—it won’t stand the test of time.
It will eat at you. It will creep into your conscience. It will gnaw at your soul. Maybe not today. Maybe not even next year. But one day, perhaps many decades from now as you prepare to meet your Maker, you’ll think back to this moment in time. You’ll wish you could come back. You’ll condemn yourself for not speaking up, for not speaking out, for not clearing the incredibly low bar of opposing genocide. And maybe, you will come to that realization while you still have life in your veins. Maybe one day, many years into the future, you’ll join a Palestinian Holocaust remembrance event, and you’ll muster the courage to finally speak up.
Maybe one day, when it’s safe, when there’s no personal downside to calling a thing what it is, when it’s too late to hold anyone accountable, you will have always been against this.



This is not just a personal reckoning. It is a moral indictment.
The silence surrounding the destruction of Palestinian life is not passive. It is chosen. It is funded. It is legislated. From a behavioral lens, this is how cruelty becomes procedural. Not through chaos, but through bureaucracy. Not through denial, but through delay.
I saw this firsthand inside government. The memos that softened the language. The meetings where conscience was traded for access. The architecture of complicity is not hidden. It is public. It is bipartisan. And it is devastating.
This piece does what institutions refused to do. It documents. It names. It refuses to forget. The question “Was it worth it?” is not rhetorical. It is forensic. It is the question every leader, every executive, every editor, every donor, every voter who looked away will eventually ask themselves…not in textbooks, but in the quiet moments when the noise fades and the mirror remains.
There is no neutral ground when human dignity is under siege.
Silence is not safety. It is surrender.
Thank you for writing this.
— Johan
Professor of Behavioral Economics and Applied Cognitive Theory
Former Foreign Service Officer
It took so long for me to pay attention, to read, to understand, to speak out against the killing...we can never undo what we have done.