By: Ezra Nadav

---

In a time when political conviction is often measured by volume and visibility, it’s easy to forget that how we speak can matter just as much as what we say. This piece isn’t a defence of power or politeness—it’s a call to think more critically about the ways our methods can sabotage our message. Because somewhere between our rights and our responsibilities, between protest and provocation, we risk losing not just the argument—but the point entirely.

I know this won’t land the same for everyone—and that’s kind of the point.
Read it. Sit with it.
Then share your take.
I’d love to hear where this resonates, where it challenges, or where you think I’ve missed the mark.

---

There’s a strange kind of alchemy that happens in public life: Where the louder someone insists on their rights, the less they seem to care about the responsibilities that come with them.

I wonder when people—all people, or at least more people—will recognise that their personal interpretation of the constitution (or any founding document) does not grant them the right to disrupt, disturb, interfere with, or undermine the safety and dignity of others.

Because that is not protest.
That is performance.

We are told someone was “forcibly removed” from a meeting.
But the footage tells a different story:
They were asked to leave.
They refused.
They escalated.
They incited.
And when the process of removal began, they became the symbol—not of resistance, but of belligerence.

And suddenly, the very thing they claimed to care about—transparency, accountability, civic engagement—was lost in the noise.
The message was swallowed by the method.

I believe in holding public officeholders to account. Fiercely. Relentlessly. With moral clarity.

But not like this.

Because behaviour like this doesn’t lead to justice. It leads to justification—for greater control, for censorship, for treating the public like a threat.

And here’s the part people don’t want to hear: If your mode of protest reinforces the narrative used to discredit you, it might feel good—but it won’t do good.

Civility is not compliance.
It’s strategy.
Rights are not weapons.
And democracy is not a game of “whoever shouts loudest wins.”

So when will we learn?

Shalom Aleichem