Global Dialogues

Where do we turn when the world feels morally lost? This question has stayed with me for years, especially as someone who grew up between cultures and has been caught in war multiple times, I have asked that question over and over again, often feeling like I was hearing only half the story. I remember sitting alone in my room, and imagining how the future will turn out and what my youth will look like. I began to wonder: who gets to decide what’s right or wrong in this world?

For a long time, I believed international organizations were the answer. I thought the United Nations and other global leaders had the power—and the heart—to protect people and promote justice. But as I got older, I saw that their decisions often reflect politics more than morals. I noticed that some voices were always louder than others, and some tragedies were always more visible. Coming from a region where people have waited decades to be seen and heard, I realized that moral authority can’t rest with institutions that only listen when it’s convenient.

Religious and community leaders have helped shape my values, but I’ve also learned to be cautious when belief is used to justify harm. In a world so diverse, no single belief system can guide everyone, but the shared values of dignity, care, and justice can. I’ve seen these values most clearly not in powerful figures, but in the actions of students, educators, and ordinary people who refuse to stay quiet.I’ve seen classmates organize fundraisers for war victims when no one else was talking about it. I’ve volunteered with students who fled conflict, and their resilience taught me more about moral courage than any textbook ever could. I’ve heard professors at Georgetown challenge harmful narratives and invite us to think critically, even when the truth is uncomfortable. 

To me, moral authority today comes from those who speak honestly, act with empathy, and stay grounded in the realities others try to ignore. This is not as simple as it sounds. It requires bravery to challenge narratives and uncover the other side of a story. It lives in young people demanding change, in activists who risk safety to speak the truth, and in thinkers who are rebuilding conversations. We may not wear suits or sit at negotiation tables, but I believe our voices matter. And if moral authority is about guiding others toward justice, then maybe it starts with being brave enough to ask hard questions, and to listen, even harder, to those who’ve been left out for too long.

Shahid Usman (SFS'28) is a freshman in the School of Foreign Service at Georgetown University in Qatar.