Global Dialogues

Human fraternity is not a concept I learned from books. I first came to understand it in quiet, familiar moments, like during Ramadan evenings in Jordan, when neighbors we barely knew insisted we join their table. It was unspoken, and felt natural: the idea that our wellbeing is linked, that dignity doesn’t stop at the edge of our struggle. These moments have become bittersweet. Growing older in a politically unstable region, I came to see how easily that sense of shared responsibility can erode, replaced by fear, bureaucracy, and distance.

To reimagine human fraternity now means acknowledging that we live in a world where our crises—climate collapse, displacement, inequality—are collective, but our responses remain divided. We have globalized trade, media, and technology, yet we hesitate to globalize care, accountability, or simply our compassion.

During my studies and research, especially through fieldwork in Indonesia, I have seen both the fractures and the quiet solidarities that form in their wake. In Jakarta, for example, the legacy of colonial infrastructure still determines who has access to clean water, but I also witnessed determined locals working to rebuild trust and protect shared resources. These moments reminded me that fraternity is not born from policy documents, but in daily acts of cooperation, repair, and refusal to accept exclusion as normal.

In my work with policy writing and publication, I have come to believe that what we choose to amplify shapes the ethical landscape we operate in. If we truly want a more connected and just world, we have to expand who gets to be heard and who we are willing to hear.

Fraternity is not about sameness. It is about an intentional commitment to others' dignity, even when there’s no immediate benefit to us. Especially then. Reimagining it starts with recognizing interdependence not as a risk, but as a resource—a starting point for systems that are more just, inclusive, and humane.

We may never fully arrive at universal fraternity. But in a world as divided as ours, the act of striving for it, deliberately and collectively, is not only meaningful. It is necessary. And perhaps, in doing so, we return to something we’ve always known in our quietest, most human moments: the instinct to care for one another, even when no one is watching. That is where fraternity begins.

Lo'ay Ramadan (SFS'27) is a sophomore at Georgetown University in Qatar.