As I sit and write these words, I do so in the comfort of my own home. Behind my computer, in a place that provides me with convenience, solace, and most importantly—security.
I live in Melbourne/Naarm, now enduring its sixth lockdown due to the COVID-19 pandemic. It’s been challenging, especially for those whose homes don’t offer the same comfort and protection. It's frustrating and difficult for everyone, with only 5km of freedom and just two hours a day to go outside—a life so foreign to the busy, fast-paced, unrestricted lives we once knew.
As the lockdowns extend, I can’t help but feel helpless. Helpless for those with businesses to run and families to support, for children missing out on connection and schooling, and for those who feel unsafe in their own homes.
I too am frustrated by my own limited opportunities, but recognizing my privileged position in this chaos, I’m compelled to challenge my frustrations. Acknowledging this privilege means I must look beyond my own landscape and realize how limited my perceptions may be. While it’s okay to feel the weight of this situation and its challenges, it’s also crucial to keep perspective and not lose sight of the reality beyond our own experiences.
This isn’t to say we should ignore our struggles. Everything is relative to our personal experiences, and comparing ourselves to others doesn't negate the severity of our own challenges. But I can't help feeling saddened by the broader lack of empathy—especially from those with great privilege, who continue to cry victim over restrictions meant to keep us safe.
The term "human rights" has been thrown around a lot during these lockdowns, with people claiming their rights have been violated. As someone nearing the end of a Master of Human Rights, I find this rhetoric misplaced. We’ve studied the Western construction of individualism and how toxic it can be for the greater good of humanity.
Western ideologies have alienated individuals, prioritising personal gain over collective well-being. This individualistic outlook, so valued in the West, has contributed to a society that, in moments when we need unity, can become selfish and divisive.
Human rights in the West often center around liberty and self-expression, but they’ve increasingly become rights that protect individuals while separating "us" from "them." This mindset prioritises immediate personal discomforts, ignoring the larger welfare of the collective and failing to see beyond one’s own immediate concerns.
When I witness anti-lockdown protests and people comparing restrictions to human rights abuses, I feel a deep sense of hopelessness for our collective. I see privileged individuals, free to speak out and protest without consequence, claiming oppression over inconveniences like wearing a mask or gym closures. Meanwhile, they remain silent in the face of genuine human rights abuses happening around the world.
Isn’t it ironic?
These people already have freedoms: the fresh air they breathe, the ability to walk the streets safely, access to education, the right to vote, and a roof over their heads. They are free to be vocal, to challenge their government without fear of punishment. Yet they fail to look beyond their own discomfort and recognize the real suffering of others.
Take a moment to consider the atrocities happening across the world.
In Afghanistan, people are being slaughtered by the Taliban, and women and children face immediate danger. Lebanon is facing economic collapse, with shortages of basic necessities like food and medicine. Haiti, still reeling from political unrest and crises, has been hit with a catastrophic earthquake. Palestinians face continued persecution in Israel. Yemen is enduring the worst humanitarian crisis in the world, with children suffering from severe malnutrition. Syrians remain caught in a brutal civil war that has lasted over a decade.
Even closer to home, Australia continues to inhumanely and illegally imprison refugees and asylum seekers indefinitely. For over eight years, some have been locked in a limbo far worse than our own temporary lockdowns. They sought the same freedom we enjoy—even with COVID restrictions—freedom from fear and persecution, a desperate plea most of us will never have to make.
Where is the outrage for them?
It’s disheartening to see people protesting their "rights" over something as minor as wearing a mask, while refugees suffer in silence, intimidated and bullied by a government more interested in political gain than in helping the most vulnerable.
Where is the fight for these individuals?
The world is bleeding, yet those with privilege continue to magnify their own needs above others’. They place their wants and priorities over the lives of those in serious danger. They choose not to see beyond their own experiences, failing to link their personal outrage to the experiences and abuses faced by others.
Though our own struggles are relative, we cannot use this as an excuse for selective compassion or ignorance of the broader world. Privilege gives us the luxury of choice, but we cannot pick and choose which human rights matter more.
As I wrote in a previous piece, “Empathy Shouldn’t be Selective”:
“Despite the uncertainty of this situation and the fear that may ignite, we mustn’t forget that these sentiments will pass, and we will return to our normal lives of freedom and security. But for many, a foreseeable safe future is not ahead of them. There is no certainty, no ‘normal’, and there is no security waiting for them at the end of a vaccine. These feelings are their everyday experiences, and they are fleeing from situations far more threatening than our situation of lockdown in the comfort of our own homes.”
With these sentiments in mind, it is our responsibility to be aware of our privilege, even in times of struggle. This too shall pass, and we will regain normalcy, but for many, their suffering will not end.
Our position and privilege are products of sheer luck. We are not entitled to them, nor are we superior to anyone else. Of course, we can feel deflated and overwhelmed during these times, but we mustn’t forget our position in life. And with that, we must remember to stand up for others who face much greater dangers—beyond the realm of COVID and our own perspectives.
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