NO MORE BAND-AIDS

 Europe has followed a unique path of growth and development. Many Europeans believe their success comes from being efficient and hardworking. When they visit other parts of the world—especially outside the Western global North—they often find the local customs “exotic” and are curious to try new things. But when they see poverty, they feel pity. They go back home thinking that, although people elsewhere may seem happier, they must be poor because they don’t know how to "do things properly."

Historical awareness here is limited, and history is often taught from the perspective of those who "won." In Spain, for example, their national holiday—Hispanic Day—falls on the same day Columbus arrived in the Americas, which were later colonized. I’ve had conversations with Spaniards who truly believe, without much explanation, that their arrival brought development and civilization to those lands, and that independence movements were simply violent and savage uprisings.

In Belgium, people lived comfortably and without guilt while one of the world’s largest genocides happened in the Congo. They were told their wealth came from conquest, but that it wasn’t “very violent.” In the Netherlands, until recently, the king rode in a golden carriage decorated with images of enslaved Black people. Despite years of debate, many still defend the Sinterklaas tradition, where a white bishop arrives on a boat with Black helpers who give gifts to children. People claim the helpers are Black because of chimney soot, but they’re often mocked and dressed in stereotypical costumes—while the bishop remains a symbol of wisdom and purity.

Europe still struggles to fully come to terms with the Holocaust and continues to see the U.S. as its great liberator—often ignoring the much larger role the Soviet Union played in defeating the Nazis. Meanwhile, Hollywood’s version of history, often filled with nationalism and even fascist undertones, is widely accepted without question. That “liberation” eventually led to another tragedy: the founding of the state of Israel on Palestinian land.

Yesterday, during a Nakba remembrance event, we displayed photos of mutilated Palestinian children. Someone walked by, covering their ears and stepping on the photos—literally stepping on pain. It was a strong symbol of how deeply rooted fascist thinking has become after all these years.

Still, there are signs of change. I’ve been to meetings with youth, social, and political groups expressing their frustration and desire for justice. That gives me hope. In many events with mostly local Europeans, people are finally starting to admit that Europe’s development came through colonialism. That’s a big step. But the next step is even harder: understanding that this progress came at the cost of other people’s suffering and lives.

In a conversation with my family—most of whom grew up here, except for my mother and me—someone said that what makes this society work is how emotions are kept out of decisions. In another talk, a Dutch activist asked why I support Chávez, if I’m Bolivian.

But in this system, individualism has become a way of life—and it goes against our human nature. We are social beings. We need each other. We can’t build a real movement for change if it starts from a place of exclusion, from “me” or from “us here” and “them over there.” If we want a better world, we have to come together. And for me to join the fight here, my fight must be acknowledged too—because it’s the same struggle faced by all oppressed people. We don’t want band-aids. We want people to really see deeply our pain. Only then can we move forward together.