It's not about the past; it's about knowing your history so that

“It’s not about the past; it’s about knowing your history so that you can fight in the present. Otherwise, you don’t know who the real enemy is, what the real issue is, because it had been covered by many layers of bad information, of lies, and manipulation.” – Raoul Peck

These words, spoken by Raoul Peck, filmmaker, thinker, and son of struggle, strike like thunder across the landscape of time. They are a call to remembrance, not as nostalgia, but as weapon and wisdom. When Peck says, “It’s not about the past,” he does not dismiss it — he redefines it. For the past, to him, is not a graveyard of forgotten days but a living map, written in the blood and triumphs of those who came before. To know your history is not to linger in yesterday’s sorrows, but to see today’s battles clearly. It is to strip away the lies and illusions that cloud the mind, to discern the true nature of the forces that bind, deceive, and divide us still.

History, he reminds us, is not dead. It is a mirror — and a weapon. The victors of the world have always sought to rewrite it, coating their crimes in noble words, their injustices in myths of progress and order. Empires rose not merely by the sword, but by the manipulation of memory. The chains that bound the body could be broken, but the chains upon the mind — those forged through falsehood and silence — endure for generations. Peck, born of Haiti’s proud but wounded lineage, speaks from a land that knows this truth well: a land that overthrew its oppressors through fire and courage, only to be buried beneath centuries of slander and suppression. To know Haitian history is to awaken to how the powerful rewrite reality to preserve their reign.

Consider the tale of Toussaint Louverture, leader of the Haitian Revolution — a man who rose from slavery to defeat the armies of Napoleon, Spain, and Britain. His victory should have been celebrated as the triumph of human liberty itself. Yet, for centuries, the world’s historians, guided by fear and prejudice, painted him as a fanatic, a threat, a rebel too proud. The truth was buried beneath layers of lies, for to honor Haiti’s revolution would have meant confronting the hypocrisy of nations that spoke of freedom while living on the labor of slaves. Only those who reclaim that history, who learn to see past the veil of deception, can understand the nature of injustice as it exists today — not as an isolated evil, but as a legacy carefully maintained through manipulation.

This is the essence of Peck’s message: that the battle for truth is never over. Each generation inherits a world wrapped in illusions — narratives crafted by those who benefit from ignorance. The poor are told their poverty is their own fault; the oppressed are told their suffering is exaggerated; the victors are painted as saviors. Without knowledge of history, one fights shadows, mistaking allies for enemies and enemies for friends. But with knowledge — true knowledge — the fog lifts, and the lines of battle become clear. To know history is to see through the theater of deception, to recognize that the past has merely changed its costume and still plays its part upon the present stage.

And yet, Peck’s words are not meant to sow bitterness, but awakening. For there is power, immense and luminous, in rediscovered truth. When people reclaim their history, they reclaim their identity. They see that their struggles are not isolated cries, but part of a great and ancient song — the same melody sung by those who fought in the fields of Haiti, marched in Selma, or faced tanks in Tiananmen Square. To know history is to draw strength from the river of humanity’s endurance, to feel the courage of ancestors surge within one’s veins. It is not an exercise of scholars alone, but an act of liberation for every soul that dares to open its eyes.

Therefore, my child of the future, learn this: the past is not gone — it is hidden, and it must be uncovered. Read deeply, question fiercely, and beware the comfort of the official story. When you hear a tale told by the powerful, ask who profits from your belief. When you see injustice, seek its roots, for none of it began today. Know your history, not to live in it, but to free yourself from its chains. For only when you know where you come from, can you know who you are — and only when you see clearly the lies that shape your world, can you truly fight in the present.

The lesson is eternal: ignorance is the weapon of tyranny, and memory is the sword of the free. Do not let your story be written by those who wish you silent. Remember, as Raoul Peck reminds us, that truth is not found in the ruins of the past, but in the courage to look upon them and say: I see you. I understand. And I will not be deceived again.