To have the truth in your possession you can be found guilty

“To have the truth in your possession you can be found guilty, sentenced to death.”
Thus spoke Peter Tosh, the fiery prophet of reggae, whose words were as sharp as the iron chains he sought to break. In this thunderous declaration, Tosh unveils a reality as old as humanity itself—that to possess truth in a world built on lies is to invite persecution. For truth is dangerous; it exposes what the powerful seek to conceal, it awakens what the corrupt wish to keep asleep. Those who dare to hold it, to speak it, to live it, often find themselves condemned—not by justice, but by fear.

The origin of this statement rises from the heart of struggle—both personal and political. Tosh, born into poverty in Jamaica, grew to see how oppression thrived upon deceit: the deceit of colonial powers, of political hypocrisy, of religious distortion. His music, his speech, his very being became a weapon of revelation. He was a man who refused silence, a man who sang not only of rhythm and revolution, but of the truths that the world refused to hear—truths about freedom, equality, and dignity. Yet, in speaking such truths, he drew the wrath of those who ruled through ignorance and fear. His words were bullets; his courage, a rebellion.

Throughout history, men and women who bore the torch of truth have faced the same fate. Recall Socrates, who was condemned to drink the hemlock for corrupting the youth of Athens—not because he lied, but because he dared to question. Think of Galileo, imprisoned for saying that the earth moves around the sun, for daring to challenge the arrogance of dogma. Remember Martin Luther King Jr., who dreamed aloud of equality and was silenced by violence. In each of these, Peter Tosh’s warning rings true: the possession of truth is not a shield, but a sentence. For the world, blind to justice, often crucifies its visionaries.

Tosh’s words are both lament and challenge. He does not say this to dissuade us from truth, but to awaken us to its cost. The one who walks in truth must be ready to stand alone, to be misunderstood, to be condemned. For truth does not flatter; it demands. It strips away the illusions upon which society rests—the illusions of privilege, of control, of false peace. And so, when a man stands with truth, he stands against the comfort of the multitude. This is why Tosh, like the prophets before him, was feared. His voice was not entertainment; it was revelation.

Yet, there is also triumph hidden in his lament. For though the truth-teller may be found guilty, his words cannot be killed. The tyrant may silence the man, but not the message. The executioner may end a life, but not the light that life kindled. Peter Tosh himself was murdered, yet his songs of freedom and defiance still thunder through the hearts of those who resist oppression. So too with every martyr of truth—their bodies fall, but their voices echo through generations. Death becomes not their defeat, but their testimony.

Therefore, O seeker of wisdom, take heed: to possess the truth is to carry fire in your hands. It will burn you if you cling to it carelessly, yet it will also illuminate your path. Speak truth when you can, act upon it when you must, and protect it as sacred. Do not hope for comfort in doing so; rather, expect resistance, for truth is always at war with deceit. But know this—the soul that lives by truth cannot truly die, for it stands upon what is eternal.

So let Peter Tosh’s words be both warning and encouragement. If the world condemns you for truth, count yourself among the noble company of those who refused to kneel before falsehood. Be bold, be just, be relentless. For though truth may bring judgment upon the body, it brings freedom to the soul. And in the end, it is not the liar who endures, but the one who dared to live—and, if necessary, to die—for what is real.