Dr. Rizwan Rumi
There comes a time in every society when silence begins to sound like surrender, when neutrality starts to smell like consent. We live in such an age — an age where many wear apathy as armour and indifference as virtue. “Politics is a dirty game,” they say, “better to stay away.” But how can one stay away from the very force that shapes the air we breathe, the roads we walk, the laws that guard or fail us?
Politics is not merely the contest for power — it is the conversation of a civilization with itself. It is the mirror where a society examines its conscience. Whether we like it or not, every decision that touches our lives — from the price of bread to the promise of freedom — is born out of politics. To say we are apolitical is to deny that we live in community, to imagine an island in a storming sea.
In truth, there is nothing more political than the decision to remain silent when injustice reigns. Every silence is a vote. Every retreat creates space for the corrupt, the cruel, and the cunning. When the wise withdraw, the foolish rule; when the good grow weary, the greedy grow strong. As Plato warned centuries ago, “The price of apathy towards public affairs is to be ruled by evil men.”
We forget that politics, at its heart, is not filth but philosophy — the philosophy of living together. The ancient Greeks called it polis, the art of organizing community life. Every act of civic responsibility, every protest for the voiceless, every call for justice — all are acts of politics in its purest sense. To be political is to be human; to care for the collective destiny of one’s people is the highest expression of citizenship.
Yes, modern politics often wears the mask of greed. It is tainted by deceit, factionalism, and arrogance. But corruption is not cured by distance — it is cured by participation. The answer to dirty politics is not withdrawal; it is cleansing through conscience. If honest hearts stay away, who will redeem the system? If those with vision fall silent, who will speak for the voiceless?
History itself offers us reminders. The great souls who shaped humanity — from Socrates to Gandhi, from Nelson Mandela to Martin Luther King Jr. — were deeply political beings. Their politics was not the politics of ambition, but of awakening. They redefined it as moral action, as the extension of ethics into public life. Gandhi once said, “Those who say religion has nothing to do with politics do not know what religion means.” For him, politics was the means through which compassion translated into justice.
Even prophets were not apolitical. They confronted tyrants, challenged unjust structures, and spoke for the marginalized. Every revelation carried a demand for social transformation. To care for the orphan, the widow, the poor — these are political acts rooted in moral responsibility.
To be apolitical, then, is not innocence — it is withdrawal from duty. It is to stand by as injustice walks freely. In democratic societies, the power of governance is the collective shadow of public participation. When citizens sleep, democracy decays. When youth mock politics, they unknowingly mock their own future.
Every generation has two choices: to complain or to contribute. Complaints are easy — contribution demands courage. We cannot reform politics by cursing it from a distance; we can only redeem it by entering it with integrity. The real struggle is not to escape politics, but to elevate it — from deceit to dialogue, from division to dignity.
Politics should not be left to the corrupt; it should be reclaimed by the conscious. It is not the exclusive domain of leaders and legislators — it is the shared responsibility of every thinking, feeling, moral human being. When citizens begin to see politics as service rather than power, reform begins not in parliaments but in hearts.
So, when someone says, “Stay away from politics,” we must gently reply, “Then who will stay for it?” Who will mend its broken promise and remind it of its sacred purpose — to serve the people, not to rule them?
Let us not be apolitical; let us be awake. For apathy is the slow poison of freedom, and silence, the soft accomplice of tyranny. We are political beings — sculptors of our collective destiny. To withdraw is to surrender. To engage, even in small ways — by voting, by questioning, by standing with truth — is to honour the very meaning of being human.
Politics, at its purest, is a prayer for justice spoken in the language of public life. Let us not abandon that prayer. Let us refine it, live it, and pass it on — as the moral heartbeat of every free and fearless society.
The author can be reached at rizwanroomi2012@gmail.com
