She said, “There is no justice under occupation.” And they took her away.
In certain conditions, even the very young are compelled to be courageous.
“There is no justice,” she said, “under occupation.”
She had been held and secretly tried. She would be imprisoned, her mother too, her cousin. For what?
“Under occupation,” she said, “there is no justice.”
In such conditions, the conditions in which the truth is obvious and unsayable, even the very old have to be courageous, even the judge and jailer, the soldier and politician, restless in their beds at night, imagining a different world, must be courageous. Even you, reading this from far away, you must be courageous too. The torturer and the tortured weep but weep different tears.
“There is no justice under occupation,” she said. And they took her away.
