The U.S. Declaration of Independence enshrines the right to life

“The U.S. Declaration of Independence enshrines the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Alas, that is not the case everywhere in the world.” — Haris Pašović

In these sorrowful yet clear-eyed words, Haris Pašović, a Bosnian theater director and witness to the tragedies of war, reflects upon one of the most luminous ideals ever written by humankind — the Declaration of Independence, and its immortal promise of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. He honors this vision, yet laments the cruel truth that for much of the world, these rights remain not laws of being, but dreams deferred. His voice speaks from experience — from a land where the streets once echoed with the thunder of shells, where neighbors became enemies, and where freedom, that sacred breath of humanity, was rationed like bread. In his tone, there is both admiration and grief: admiration for the courage that enshrined such ideals, and grief for the world that still fails to honor them.

The meaning of this quote lies in the contrast between principle and reality, between the eternal ideal of human dignity and the harshness of a world still divided by tyranny, greed, and violence. Pašović reminds us that the right to life, the right to liberty, and the right to pursue happiness are not merely American rights — they are human rights, bestowed not by governments, but by the nature of existence itself. Yet in many lands, these truths are not self-evident. There are still places where life is cheap, where liberty is a luxury, and where happiness is seen as rebellion. His lament, “Alas, that is not the case everywhere,” carries the weight of centuries of suffering — a cry for justice that transcends borders and generations.

The origin of Pašović’s reflection is deeply rooted in the history of his own people. During the Bosnian War of the 1990s, the city of Sarajevo — once a symbol of coexistence — became a graveyard of hope. Pašović lived through the Siege of Sarajevo, the longest siege in modern history, where men, women, and children were trapped for nearly four years under bombardment, their only crime being their desire to live in peace. Amidst destruction, he continued to create art — plays, performances, and stories that affirmed the value of humanity when the world seemed to forget it. His words emerge from that crucible: they are not theoretical, but born from lived truth. To someone who has seen liberty stripped away, the ideals of the Declaration of Independence are not abstractions — they are lifelines, proof that humanity is still capable of moral beauty.

Consider, for a moment, another such voice from history: Anne Frank, a young girl whose diary became the anthem of innocence in an age of cruelty. She too dreamed of life and happiness, though her world was surrounded by barbed wire and fear. Like Pašović, she understood what freedom meant only by its absence. When she wrote, “In spite of everything, I still believe that people are really good at heart,” she was, in her own way, affirming the spirit of the Declaration — that human beings, even in darkness, are born with an unyielding will toward light. Her fate, like that of millions, reminds us that the right to live freely and fully is still contested — that the words written in Philadelphia in 1776 remain unfinished across the earth.

The power of Pašović’s statement lies in its universality. He does not diminish the greatness of the American Declaration, but rather lifts it up as a mirror for the world. It is both praise and challenge. For if one nation could envision such rights at its birth, why should others not do the same? If one people could declare that liberty is inherent to the human condition, why should others still deny it? His words awaken conscience: they remind us that freedom is not complete until it is shared by all — that the promise of the Declaration is not a closed chapter, but a living covenant between all who walk this earth.

The lesson we must draw is this: that it is not enough to admire freedom — we must extend it. Not enough to speak of rights — we must defend them, in our homes, our nations, and in the silent corners of the world where voices are still stifled. The pursuit of happiness is not a selfish chase for pleasure, but the duty of every soul to create a world where others, too, may breathe without fear. The ideals of life and liberty cannot remain confined to parchment; they must be written into our actions, our compassion, and our courage to stand against injustice wherever it appears.

And so, as the ancients would say, let us remember that the measure of a civilization is not in its wealth or power, but in how fully it honors the dignity of the human spirit. Haris Pašović speaks as a witness — one who has seen what happens when these rights are denied. His words are a call to remembrance, and to renewal. Let every generation read the Declaration of Independence not as a relic, but as a challenge: to ensure that its promises are made real “everywhere in the world.” For when life is sacred, liberty is shared, and happiness is possible for all, then, and only then, will humanity have fulfilled the purpose for which it was born.