We continue our series of in-depth columns curated by Giulia Muratori, secretary of Libera San Marino.
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We convinced ourselves that technological progress would make us freer, more informed, more capable of understanding the world.
And yet, looking at what is happening around us, one has to wonder whether we are actually risking the opposite.
I watched the documentary Naza, which, through testimonies from within Israel’s military and intelligence apparatus, recounts the use of surveillance systems and advanced technologies in the war on Gaza.
It is one of those films that leaves behind an unease that is hard to shake off.
Our phones, our communications, the information we produce every day can become tools of control.
Extraordinary technologies, capable of improving our lives, can also be used to monitor, locate and strike other human beings.
But what is most disturbing is the progressive erosion of the value of human life and how easily we risk becoming accustomed to horror.
The tragedy of the Palestinian people is plain for all to see.
We have witnessed the destruction of entire families, the deaths of thousands of children, the devastation of hospitals and homes.
Too often, the international community’s response has seemed to stop at statements of concern.
Condemning Hamas’s terrorist attacks and recognising Israel’s legitimate need for security cannot justify violations of international law or the suffering inflicted on the Palestinian civilian population.
Human rights cannot apply only to some.
And international law cannot be applied according to political convenience or alliances.
We need leaders capable of taking responsibility, even when it is uncomfortable to do so.
Leaders who will make real use of the tools of diplomacy and international law, defend civilians, and demand that every violation be investigated and prosecuted.
Because indifference, especially from those who have the power to act, cannot become an acceptable response.
But while we watch what is happening in the world, we should also have the courage to look at our own societies.
We live in an age where everyone can voice an opinion, yet it seems to be getting harder and harder to accept anyone else’s.
Social media has vastly expanded our possibilities for communication, but too often debate turns into confrontation, disagreement into insult, and those who think differently into enemies to be discredited.
We are building a world increasingly divided between an “us” and a “them”.
European history should have taught us how dangerous contempt for those who are different, propaganda, the construction of an enemy, and the normalisation of violence can be.
Fascism and the other totalitarian regimes of the twentieth century did not emerge out of nowhere: they also took hold through the gradual erosion of pluralism and freedom.
Today’s world is different, of course.
But it would be a mistake to think that democratic achievements are irreversible.
And there is another contradiction that should make us reflect, even looking at our own small Republic.
We are constantly connected, and yet the spaces for genuine dialogue are emptying out.
Public meetings and political education initiatives are struggling to engage people, especially the younger generations.
We pass judgement in a matter of seconds, yet we are less and less willing to devote time to listening and understanding.
It would, however, be too easy to place the blame on citizens or young people alone.
We must also ask ourselves what politics itself has done to still deserve their time and trust.
Perhaps we have gradually replaced education with communication, dialogue with the pursuit of instant consensus, and participation with the number of views on social media.
So the answer cannot simply be concern. We must go back to taking action.
Starting with schools, by investing in civic education, in the knowledge of history, in critical thinking, and in the ability to recognise disinformation.
By seriously addressing the issue of new technologies, so that they become tools at the service of people rather than instruments of control free from any democratic accountability.
But above all, by rebuilding opportunities for genuine participation, in which citizens — young people in particular — can feel heard and truly contribute to collective decisions.
This is not about bringing people back to the political gatherings of the past, but about rethinking politics so that they once again feel it is worth being part of it.
I would therefore like to extend an invitation to all political forces that recognise themselves in the values of the rule of law, democracy and freedom: let us try to translate these principles into concrete actions and initiatives.
Let us defend pluralism even when the speaker does not share our views.
Let us fight discrimination without distinguishing between people who are more or less deserving of protection.
Let us jointly promote opportunities for dialogue and democratic education, beyond party affiliations.
And let us consistently make San Marino’s voice heard in international forums, because the small size of our State does not exempt us from the responsibility of defending human rights, peace and international law.
We do not need to agree on every political choice.
But we should be able to recognise ourselves in certain principles that come before our individual affiliations.
We rightly worry about our children’s economic future, about the opportunities they will have, about the jobs they will find.
But we should be just as urgently concerned about the quality of the democracy we will leave them.
Because we may hand down to future generations a technologically advanced and seemingly connected world, but if we have lost respect for human life, for freedom, and for the ability to live alongside those who are different from us, what kind of progress will we truly have achieved?
Democracy is not a guaranteed inheritance. It is a responsibility that every generation must choose to take on.
