“The Party told you to reject the evidence of your eyes and ears. It was their final, most essential command.” — George Orwell, 1984

It’s all noise, an empty clamour. True discourse feels like a fading echo. It was an argument, not a debate. An argument pits two parties head-to-head, each trying to outwit the other. A debate, on the other hand, is a strategic play to persuade a third-party audience—the television viewers.

“In Springfield, they are eating the dogs. The people that came in, they are eating the cats. They’re eating – they are eating the pets of the people that live there,” said Trump during ABC’s presidential debate on Tuesday, September 10. Thus, a baseless claim that illegal immigrants from Haiti were eating domestic pets in a small Ohio city gained traction after Republican vice-presidential candidate JD Vance amplified it on social media. The falsehood, originating from a viral post, has been viewed over 11 million times on X.

Fact: Springfield, Ohio, has seen a revival with 20,000 Haitian immigrants, reversing decades of population decline and revitalising local industries, though it struggles with increased public service demands.

It is productive to recall how a few weeks ago in Detroit, Harris faced heckling from a University of Michigan student and other protesters who were calling for an immediate ceasefire in Gaza and an end to arms shipments to Israel. She responded, “If you want Donald Trump to win, keep talking. Otherwise, I’m speaking.”

The most terrible thing about the debate was its unceasing noise. In the shadow of an ongoing genocide and apartheid in Palestine, the absence of honest debate morphed into a dangerous complicity. As self-censorship and groupthink amplify their clamour, the urgent cry for meaningful words and action drowns in a sea of hollow reverberations, with the media serving as their echo chamber. The need for a more honest dialogue has never been more urgent.

The clamour drowns out the quiet voice of reason, the gentle whisper of truth.

Tone deaf

Earlier on the day, the tent camp at Al-Mawasi, the so-called humanitarian safe zone established by Israel in December, was bombed by three missile strikes. Each missile carried 2,000-pound bombs, as reported by The New York Times, killing at least 19 Palestinians and leaving many others injured.

Israel’s issue arose twice during the debate, with one question posed to each candidate. When asked how she would pressure Netanyahu to break the deadlock and agree to a ceasefire, Harris echoed the sentiments she had previously expressed at the Democratic National Convention. She peddled the same line: “Israel has a right to defend itself.“ In response to the question, Trump claimed, “Had I been president, this conflict would never have begun.” He then launched an attack on Harris, accusing her of harbouring hatred towards Israel.

Amid the loud chatter about the ‘international rules-based order’ in the West, one thing is clear: one can’t cherry-pick which rules to enforce while touting their importance. Harris should be keenly aware of this fundamental truth as a former prosecutor.

Despite growing public demand in the US and other Western countries and virtue-signalling reductions in arms supplies to Israel, neither candidate broached the possibility of an arms embargo during the debate.

Both candidates talked up Russia, Israel, Ukraine and Iran, but when it came to Palestine, their silence spoke volumes. This highlighted the entrenched status quo that persists across party lines.

Distribution of the

sensible

In today’s political landscape, Jacques Rancière’s idea of the ‘distribution of the sensible’ is a crucial lens through which we can understand the dynamics of media and public discourse. Rancière elaborated in his influential work The Politics of Aesthetics: The Distribution of the Sensible, published in 2004. In this book, Rancière explored how political and social orders shape what people see, hear and understand in society and how this distribution of sensory experiences impacts democratic engagement and political participation. In the context of the genocide in Gaza, this concept is particularly illuminating. Mainstream media and political institutions significantly determine which topics gain visibility and which remain in the shadows.

For instance, traditional media often dictates the focus of public attention, framing specific issues as urgent while ignoring others, leading to a skewed representation of what matters in political and social debates. However, movements that break through this controlled distribution, like grassroots activism or viral social media campaigns, can disrupt the status quo. These powerful and disruptive efforts bring overlooked issues to the forefront, challenging established narratives and reshaping the public conversation, offering a glimmer of hope in an otherwise bleak landscape.

Both candidates talked up Russia, Israel, Ukraine and Iran, but when it came to Palestine, their silence spoke volumes. This highlighted the entrenched status quo that persists across party lines.

In essence, Rancière’s concept helps us understand how the conflict’s portrayal is shaped by deeper political structures and how disruptions to this distribution—through protests, social media campaigns and alternative narratives—can challenge the established order, demanding a re-evaluation of what is deemed visible and significant in the global conversation.

Abjection

On Gaza, we are witnessing increasingly unvarnished dissent from the Global South, clashing dramatically with the refined, controlled rhetoric of Western elites in power. This clamorous outcry is no mere background din—it’s a provocative counter-rhythm that audaciously unsettles the polished discourse of the West, casting a doubt and consistently ignoring the reality. It serves as a bold and unruly challenge to the Western establishment, revealing the stark contrast between the visceral, raw expressions from the Global South and Western institutions’ detached, sophisticated language. The White House press briefings are tragically entertaining, but the impact of the Global South’s dissent is profound.

Julia Kristeva’s exploration of the abject in her seminal 1980 work, Powers of Horror: An Essay on Abjection, offers a compelling lens through which to view the silence in the debate on genocide in Gaza. Kristeva’s concept of abject sheds profound light on how societies treat elements or groups deemed undesirable or threatening to the established order and is strikingly pertinent to the current discourse surrounding the genocide in Gaza,

The harsh realities of an illegal occupation, apartheid, faced by the people of Palestine are frequently brushed aside or sanitised by Western discourse. This marginalisation reflects a deliberate form of political and social abjection, where the brutal truths of the conflict are kept out of the spotlight. The prevailing narratives maintain a controlled and sanitised view of the situation by sidelining these uncomfortable realities. It translates as denial, hypocrisy and blatant partisanship.

The visceral reactions and protests of activists, victims and supporters serve as a powerful resistance against systemic exclusion. These bottom-up efforts challenge the dominant narratives that marginalise their experiences, pushing for a broad recognition of their plight and demanding a more inclusive dialogue.

These voices challenge the sanitised, controlled narratives often dominating Western media and its political discourse. As we saw with the protests by students on university campuses across the Western world, by breaking through the veneer of polite conversation and exposing the raw realities of the situation, these protests confront the elite’s attempt to manage and contain uncomfortable truths. They force a reckoning with the realities that have been pushed to the periphery and demand a more honest conversation—a bold assertion of their right to shape their futures.

The sound and the fury

One reflects on a deep sense of existential resignation and scepticism about human endeavours and the takeaway is that the struggles and battles we face are not about achieving victory but about confronting the harsh truths of our limitations and the illusion of control over time and fate.

William Faulkner, the influential writer from the American South, poignantly points out in his criticism of the notion of victory, implying that the concept of triumph is misguided and that true understanding comes from recognising the inherent futility of striving for it.

In a dramatic show of global discontent, the UN General Assembly has overwhelmingly directed Israel to withdraw from occupied Palestinian territories within a year. This non-binding resolution passed 124 to 14 underscores Israel’s deepening international isolation and comes on the heels of a historic ICJ advisory ruling. Among the 14, the US voted against it.

With over 40,000 Palestinians dead, we need a full and immediate ceasefire, not just a Western-defined half-measure of “release of hostages and security for Israel.”

Peace. Now.

The writer is a critic,essayist and writer who splits his time between Toronto, London and Geneva