The sound of silence can be deadening. And at times silence assumes one of the most brutal forms of violence, as the voice of complicity for the powers that be. In the face of grave injustice and unjust circumstances, silence induces fear and provokes violence itself. The violence of silence with great effectiveness can spin into the vicious cycle of physical and structural violence. Eventually, it is the silence that sustains the status quo of indignity, disrespect and prejudice. Silence is disempowering and at its core, the violence of silence steals a person, as well as a peoples’ moral conscience.
Yet, at times silence is an instrument that allows a people to act politically. There have been poignant moments in human history where power has been demonstrated and symbolized through the act of silence. For instance, Burmese Buddhist monks have demonstrated their collective persuasion to take a stand against injustice. Their 2007 protest is an example of how the monks, armed with nothing more than moral authority and the power of silence, turned a localized protest into a country-wide movement called the Saffron Revolution. Thousands of monks came out into the streets with only their alms bowls and determination to restore democracy. The Burmese army, trained so well to respond to violent situations, were caught off-guard and unsure how to confront a very disciplined and nonviolent force. Burmese monks and nuns spontaneously joined the nonviolent Civil Disobedience Movement following the military coup of February 1, 2021.
How does one understand the current deafening silence that seems to be enveloping the blue hills across the Naga lands? Is this ongoing silence an unintended form of critical public opinion in response to the prevailing situation? While one tries to comprehend the paradoxical silence in which we are living, one thing is certain: various power centres with vested interests in the Naga political question are interpreting the silence through their own set of cultural assumptions and understandings. Some generalize this silence to denote fear, complacency, and weak leadership. For others it is indifference, resignation, and acceptance of the status quo, and yet many contribute it to conflict fatigue and crumbling values. Perhaps if we only choose to listen closely to the whispering conversations beneath the silence, we may find that this silence is in effect a cultural response of resistance and anger to the current situation. Its underlying message states that people do not agree or are not going along with how the present direction is unfolding.
Naga leaders, as well as leaders in Delhi do not fully comprehend this silence and are misreading both the situation and the sound of silence. By choosing to listen only to those with whom they are aligned, they hear only what they want to hear and see only what they wish to see. Tragically, in today’s contemporary Naga politics, the voice of the common woman, man and child, the voice of the intellectual, the voice of the conscientious, the voice of the moral, the truthful, the honest, and the principled have been pushed to the margins. Leaders are no longer able to make a distinction between ‘public opinion’ and the ‘mind of a crowd.’ All too often, a peoples’ collective wisdom, aspiration and vision has been usurped by the parochial views of a chosen few in the name of institutions and communities. In the guise of the majority the present status quo is sustained, which generates more distrust.
Democratic spaces need to be open to hearing the other side of silence. It is in these spaces that critical public opinion can be voiced through inclusive participatory dialogue processes which support promoting democracy, justice, dignity, and freedom for all peoples. The emergence of critical public opinion includes liberating ourselves, resisting herd mentality, and overcoming political patronage. The shaping of critical public opinion means listening to the sound of silence and channelling it to define value-based positions so that it can assume a prophetic role in the freeing of the truth.
It is time for leaders to intently listen to the voices behind the sound of silence.
“Fools”, said I, “You do not know
Silence like a cancer grows
Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my arms that I might reach you”
But my words, like silent raindrops fell
And echoed
In the wells of silence.
-Paul Simon, 1965.
* This phrase was popularized by
Paul Simon's song with the same title in 1965.
