Khaberni - In an increasingly unstable world, where crises, wars, economic and psychological crises intertwine, Human Rights Day returns to pose a simple yet profound question at the same time: What remains for us when all assumptions around us are shaken?
No matter how different the interpretations are, the answer revolves around one idea: human dignity and rights are the last line of defense for our humanity, and they are the winning choice when all other bets are lost.
As we commemorate the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, we are not just dealing with a historical text dating back to 1948, but rather reflecting on our reality today: people's fear of the future, their feelings of isolation and frustration, and their search for what restores meaning to the idea of justice and fairness. It is reflective to note that many still see human rights as either idealistic thoughts or slogans for the elite, while in reality, they are vivid details in our everyday lives: in clean water that should reach every home, in the dignity of providing food on the family table, in schools that welcome our children without discrimination, and in our ability to express our opinions without fear.
Reviving this day is an attempt to bring these rights from the shelves of texts back to the pulse of life. To remind ourselves that human rights are not just about confronting torture, arrest, or suppression, but also about the right to hope, to equal opportunity, to decent work, to healthcare, and to the individual feeling that they are not just an extra number in a cold political or economic equation.
Human rights are not just a shield from violations, but also a positive energy that adds meaning and tranquility to life. When a person feels that the law protects rather than pursues them, that institutions are there to serve rather than to exclude them, and that their voice, no matter how small, has weight, they become more capable of contributing and more prepared to participate in public affairs, and less susceptible to extremism, violence, or despair. In moments of doubt and uncertainty, these rights transform into what resembles "roots" that prevent us from completely falling, and remind us that justice is not an impossible dream, but a shared responsibility.
Thus arises the importance of linking this anniversary with the practical effort made on the ground. In Jordan, it is impossible to read Human Rights Day in isolation from the path the state has chosen in recent years, including political, economic, and administrative modernization, attempts to enhance the rule of law and broaden public participation, and ongoing engagement with the international human rights system through the Universal Periodic Review and recommendations from UN mechanisms. This path, despite the challenges and complexities it faces, reflects an understanding that true stability can only be based on upheld rights and more transparent and responsive institutions.
However, the most important—and most humane—aspect in this context appears when we step beyond our geographic borders and consider the Jordanian stance on severe human rights violations in the region, particularly what our people in Gaza are undergoing. At a time when the most basic human rights there are being violated: the right to life, safety, water, food, and medicine, the official Jordanian voice has been present in international forums, condemning the targeting of civilians and collective punishment, and insisting on reminding everyone of the rules of international humanitarian law and the necessity of respecting them. This was not merely a fleeting political stance, but a natural extension of a vision that considers the defense of human rights indivisible, and dignity cannot be divided by borders or nationalities.
Alongside discourse, practical actions have lent this stance its ethical weight: sending aid, focusing on providing water, food, and medicine, supporting the health and relief sector, and working with regional and international partners to alleviate the severity of the siege and suffering. In these efforts, the national dimension meets the humanitarian dimension, and the true meaning of human rights becomes manifest: transforming from beautiful texts into a concrete act of solidarity with a people deprived of the minimum essentials for life.
The connection between the commemoration of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and this Jordanian presence—officially and popularly—is not just a form of embellishment or courtesy, but a call to view human rights as an integrated pathway: starting from internal reform and strengthening the system of rights and freedoms at the national level, and extending to taking clear ethical stances on regional and global issues. The individual we demand respect for in Amman, Irbid, or Karak is the same individual who deserves life in Gaza, Jerusalem, or any other area threatened by oppression and deprivation.
In the end, the essence of the message remains simple despite all complexities: human rights are not a luxury in times of peace, but an urgent need in times of crisis. They are not discourse for the elite, but a language of life for ordinary people. It starts from how we respect each other, from our rejection of injustice wherever we see it, from our readiness to listen to marginalized voices, and from our insistence that fear should not be the only language in the public space.
When we read or hear about the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, it might be helpful to ask ourselves one question: What is the distance between these principles and what we and those around us live? The more we succeed in reducing this distance, even by a small step, we contribute to ensuring that human rights, in fact not just in word, remain the winning choice for humanity... and for us before anyone else.
