They Arrested Peace
It happened quietly, almost casually, as though democracy itself were being dismantled in plain daylight. Julia, a young staffer for CODEPINK in Washington, D.C., wasn’t chanting, wasn’t holding a sign, wasn’t disrupting anything. She was simply walking out of a congressional hearing room when Capitol police moved in, arrested her, and held her overnight.
Her crime? Being a recognizable activist for Palestine.
Let that sink in. In the heart of a country that never tires of preaching freedom, a woman was jailed not for what she did, but for who she is. Hours later, Ann Wright — a retired U.S. Army colonel and diplomat turned peace activist — was also arrested. The message was unmistakable: in today’s America, if you speak too loudly against Israeli war crimes, you don’t just risk being ignored. You risk being silenced.
For over 20 years, CODEPINK has been the stubborn conscience in Washington’s marble halls, interrupting hearings, unfurling banners, demanding accountability. They’ve been mocked, ridiculed, and escorted out more times than anyone can count. But even they admit they’ve never seen anything like this: activists jailed for merely existing as critics of genocide.
Think about the context. While Israel rains bombs on Gaza and deliberately engineers famine — the world’s first Category Five famine, man-made and livestreamed — American officials nod along, veto ceasefires, and now, arrest their own citizens for objecting. As two million Palestinians teeter between hunger and death, the U.S. Congress is not only writing checks for more weapons, it’s criminalizing dissent against them.
There is a cruelty in silence, but there is something even more terrifying in enforced silence. When walking out of a hearing room is enough to get you jailed, when activists like Julia and Ann are treated like criminals while war criminals are feted at the White House, what does it say about the moral compass of a nation?
It says the mask is slipping. That the land of the free has grown hostile to freedom when freedom threatens empire. That solidarity with the starving, the bombed, the blockaded, has become subversion.
They arrested Julia. They arrested Ann. Tomorrow, it could be anyone who dares to whisper that Palestine is human, too.
But history has never been kind to those who jail peacemakers. And it never will.
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