In human society, the question of right and wrong often seems to be determined by loud voices of protest and resistance. Those who can raise their voices the most, who can organize protest or resistance—appear to be the victors, as if they alone hold the right to everything. .
On the other hand, those who cannot protest seem destined to become victims of oppression. If we look at nature, we can observe symbolic representations of this harsh truth.
Trees, which silently provide shade, bear fruit, and supply the oxygen necessary for life—do not make any claims for themselves. This silence seems to be their crime.
As a result, they fall to the ground under the blows of the axe without resistance. Helpless animals suffer a similar fate—they are voiceless, and therefore rightless. Within the frameworks of human-made law, policy, or morality, their place is often uncertain, because they cannot testify on their own behalf.
This symbolic reality is reflected in a more complex form within human society. Here, humans stand against other humans; yet the balance of power is never equal. Those who lack the defining attributes of power—who are economically weak, socially marginalized, or culturally unheard—become like silent “trees” or “helpless creatures.”
Oppression continues upon them because they are unable to protest, or because the consequences of protesting may be even more devastating for them. It is here that a deep crisis of civilization becomes evident.
We claim to be advanced, humane, and just; yet in reality, the unequal distribution of power determines who will oppress whom. The ability to protest becomes a kind of currency. Those who possess it are safe; those who do not are permanent citizens of insecurity.
But one may ask—why has humanity constructed such a system, where silence is punishable and loud protest is rewarded? There is a psychological explanation for this. Power naturally seeks spaces without resistance.
Where there is less opposition, domination becomes easier. Thus, it becomes easy to establish control over individuals or groups who cannot protest. This tendency is not limited to individuals; it is also visible in states, institutions, and even international relations.
However, this is not merely a story of cruelty. It is also a reflection of social unconsciousness. Often, the oppressor does not even realize that they are participating in injustice. Society has taught them: “Those who remain silent exist to endure.” As long as this belief persists, oppression against the silent will continue.
Therefore, the solution is not limited to protest alone; rather, it calls for a reconsideration of the very concept of protest. Not everyone can be vocal, but it is the responsibility of society to translate the language of silence.
A subtle yet fundamental shift in morality is required here. Our sense of justice cannot depend solely on spoken words; it must also give equal importance to unspoken signals, silent cries, and invisible deprivation. A society that learns to hear the voices of the silent is the one that truly becomes just.
Thus, the symbolic image of trees and helpless creatures does not merely call for compassion—it raises a question of responsibility. Will we listen only to the voices of the powerful, or will we also give language to the silence of the weak?
In reality, a society where the ability to protest is the condition for survival cannot truly be called free. Freedom becomes meaningful only when the silent are also safe—when no one is subjected to oppression simply because they do not protest.
This ideal may not be easy to establish in developing societies, but without it, how can a state or a society truly call itself civilized?