Solidarity of the Oppressed

In a fractured world, marked by domination, marginalization, and layers of structural violence, the solidarity of the oppressed is not merely a slogan but a lifeline, a political strategy, and a moral necessity. When those who suffer under systems of power begin to recognize not only their shared wounds but also their shared capacities, solidarity emerges as both resistance and reconstruction. It is a conscious alignment across different struggles, rooted not in sameness, but in mutual recognition of injustice and the will to transcend it.

To be oppressed is not to be passive. Oppression attempts to reduce people into silence, dependency, or fear. But history shows again and again that even in the most degraded conditions, humans resist. What solidarity enables is the amplification of that resistance — not as isolated uprisings, but as interlinked acts of reclaiming dignity, resources, and meaning. This is a process which we cannot avoid as conscious creatures, even when we know that meaning and stories are constructed socially.

Solidarity does not require identical experiences. It requires an ethical commitment to the freedom and dignity of others, even when their context is not your own. The solidarity of the oppressed must be a relationship of political friendship, where each struggle echoes another, forming a network of care, protection, and shared strategic learning.

A solidarity built on rigid essentialist identities is fragile. It can quickly turn inward, suspicious of difference, or defensive about purity. What is needed is solidarity grounded in critical thinking: one that understands identities — class, ethnicity, gender, religion — as strategic, historical, and constructed, but no less meaningful as "truths".

This solidarity must not be about claiming a universal victimhood. It is about recognizing that all forms of oppression are maintained by hierarchical power, and that liberation in one area is intimately tied to the liberation in others. A feminist revolution that ignores colonial or class oppression cannot succeed. An anti-colonial movement that reproduces patriarchy or silences minorities cannot bring justice.

For a critical thinker, power always demands scrutiny. Even in movements for justice, the seeds of domination can take root if not vigilantly checked. That is why solidarity must remain horizontal, dialogical, and pluralistic. No one group or identity actually owns the truth. No leader is above accountability. Solidarity of the oppressed thrives when it builds structures of participation, not veneration.

Yet, strategic unity is vital. Oppressed groups must sometimes speak with a collective voice to negotiate, bargain, or demand rights. This is not to deny their internal diversity, but to confront power with coordinated strength. Strategic essentialism here becomes a political tool — but one always subject to critique from within.

Solidarity of the oppressed is held not by ideology alone, but by relationships: trust built through shared risks, mutual support, and a willingness to learn from each other’s mistakes. It is forged in protest, in underground organizing, in community care, in refusing to be divided by the tools of the powerful — fear, scarcity, suspicion, and envy.

In the face of absurdity, we must hold onto this moral foundation: No one is free until all are free. Not as a poetic ideal, but as a structural reality. Oppression anywhere reinforces the system of oppression everywhere. The long-term survival of any struggle depends on cultivating a culture of solidarity — across borders, identities, and generations.

In the face of rising authoritarianism, extractive capitalism, nationalist populism, and digital surveillance, the oppressed cannot afford to remain fragmented. Neither can they afford shallow calls for unity that erase real grievances. We must not stop just by hashtags or speeches. What we need is a deep, critical, principled solidarity— grounded in shared commitments to dignity, justice, autonomy, and collective flourishing.

This is the solidarity that builds movements, rebuilds broken societies and creates the conditions for new ways of living. It is not charity, nor pity. It is mutual obligation — and mutual liberation.