My only fixed truth is a belief in people: a conviction that if

The words of Saul Alinsky—“My only fixed truth is a belief in people: a conviction that if people have the opportunity to act freely and the power to control their own destinies, they'll generally reach the right decisions.”—stand as both a declaration of faith and a challenge to the ages. In them, he affirms that the foundation of all lasting progress is not in kings, nor in elites, nor in the commands of distant rulers, but in the collective wisdom of ordinary people. For Alinsky, the true wellspring of justice flows not from decrees, but from the moment when men and women are entrusted with their own destinies and act from freedom rather than fear.

The origin of this conviction lies in Alinsky’s life as a community organizer in the neighborhoods of Chicago. He saw firsthand the despair of the poor, the neglected, and the voiceless. Yet he also saw their resilience, their ingenuity, and their strength when given the chance to unite. Out of these experiences grew his fixed truth: that people, when trusted with power, can and will shape a better destiny than any imposed upon them from above. His words stand as a rebuke to the arrogance of those who imagine that wisdom belongs only to the few.

History confirms his vision. Consider the American Revolution. The mightiest empire of the age believed that common colonists could not govern themselves, that they required the guiding hand of distant kings and parliaments. Yet when the people rose, declaring their right to act freely and control their own future, they birthed a nation that became a beacon of liberty. Their decisions were not perfect, their path not without flaw, yet the act of self-rule itself unleashed creativity, innovation, and endurance beyond the imagination of their rulers.

So too in India, when Mahatma Gandhi called upon millions of ordinary men and women to resist the British Raj. Skeptics doubted the capacity of the masses; they expected chaos or failure. Yet when people were given the dignity of action—marching to the sea for salt, spinning their own cloth, standing firm without violence—they proved that freedom’s wisdom dwells not in palaces, but in the villages and fields of the nation. Their decisions, though simple, were powerful, and they broke the grip of empire.

Alinsky’s words also carry a warning. For if people are denied the opportunity to act freely, if they are silenced, manipulated, or bound by fear, then even their best intentions may falter. Freedom is the soil in which right action grows; without it, corruption festers. Tyrants and oppressors often justify their domination by claiming that the masses cannot govern themselves, that they must be guided. But Alinsky turns this claim upside down: it is precisely when people are given control over their destinies that the soundest decisions emerge.

The lesson for us is clear: trust in the wisdom of the many, and work to ensure that all have both freedom and power. Do not imagine that the great decisions of life and society must always be left to the experts or the powerful few. Remember that truth is revealed not only in the halls of authority, but in the lived experience of the people. And if their voices are heard, if their hands are free, if their dignity is honored, they will rise to meet the challenge of history.

Therefore, take these actions: listen to those whose voices are often ignored. Share power rather than hoard it. Build communities where decisions are made together, and trust that the collective will, when free of chains, will bend toward justice. In your own life, honor the choices of others, and give space for their freedom, just as you claim your own. For as Alinsky has shown, the only fixed truth worth clinging to is faith in people themselves—and in their capacity, when free, to find the path of wisdom.