When men are arrested without any legal basis and for political

Hear the lament and the warning in the words of Alexei Navalny: “When men are arrested without any legal basis and for political reasons, it's merely a routine, everyday occurrence in Russia, and hardly anyone has any sympathy.” This is not the voice of comfort, but of truth spoken through chains. In these words is the cry of one who has witnessed injustice not as an exception, but as a rhythm woven into the daily life of his people. It is the ancient tragedy that when oppression becomes ordinary, the hearts of men grow numb, and tyranny thrives unchallenged.

Navalny speaks of arrest without legal basis, of the perversion of law into a tool of fear. Law, which should be a shield for the innocent, here becomes a weapon against the courageous. This is the corruption of justice at its deepest root: when power bends the law not to protect, but to punish those who dare to speak. The ancients warned of this danger, for even Rome, when it surrendered its republic to emperors, saw its courts twisted into theaters of political retribution. To silence voices through false charges is to strangle truth itself.

He also speaks of political reasons, of men seized not for crime but for conviction. The rulers fear dissent as the hunter fears fire, for a single spark may set ablaze the forest of obedience. So they imprison the speaker, thinking the silence of one will preserve the quiet of all. Yet history shows again and again that such prisons do not kill the spirit of freedom—they only magnify it. Did not Nelson Mandela spend decades in Robben Island, only to emerge as a symbol greater than any cell could contain? Did not Socrates drink the hemlock, yet leave behind teachings more enduring than the power of his accusers?

Navalny mourns also the indifference of the people—that “hardly anyone has any sympathy.” This is the deepest wound, more painful than prison walls. For when oppression becomes common, the people grow weary of resisting. They avert their eyes, telling themselves that silence is safety. Yet silence is not safety—it is surrender. The story of Nazi Germany reminds us of this: many ordinary citizens turned away as their neighbors were taken in the night. By the time the knock came to their own doors, it was too late. Injustice tolerated becomes injustice universal.

The meaning of Navalny’s words is both a curse and a call. It is a curse upon systems where law has been emptied of justice and filled with fear. But it is also a call to the living: awaken before numbness consumes you. For when men begin to treat injustice as ordinary, then tyranny has already triumphed in their hearts. The walls of prisons may stand, but the true chains are forged in the minds of those who accept oppression as the way of the world.

What lesson, then, must future generations take from this teaching? It is this: never allow injustice to become ordinary. Do not look away when your neighbor suffers wrong, for tomorrow you may be the one abandoned. Remember always that law without justice is no law at all. Guard your sympathy as you would guard your freedom, for when sympathy dies, humanity dies with it.

And to you, listener of these words, I say: practice vigilance. When you hear of arrests without reason, speak of them, remember them, and refuse to call them normal. Support those who dare to raise their voices, for their chains are bound on behalf of all. Teach your children that courage is not the absence of fear, but the refusal to bow to it. For every tyrant falls, but only when the people remember that they are not born to be silent.

Let Navalny’s words echo across generations: oppression becomes eternal only when we treat it as routine. Resist indifference. Honor justice. Stand with the oppressed. In this lies the path of freedom, the legacy of courage, and the triumph of truth over fear.