Suspending Humanity from Humanitarian Crises: A Case of Testimonial Injustice

Recording the Voice of the Silenced

Until the nineteenth century, historians relied on eyewitness testimonies to document events.

However, with the development of history as an academic discipline, the availability of archives and documentary sources gradually replaced the oral accounts of eyewitnesses with written documents (Thompson, 2000). The prioritization of written archives and documentation has contributed to the marginalization of substantial groups within society— those who played a role in experiencing history, rather than in documenting it. Oral history is the medium throughout which one can bring back the silenced voice of those who did not participate in building monarchies and reigning peasants, but those who participated in living under the conditions of the socio-political circumstances forced on them. Raw reality can be taken from the mouth of those who lived rather than those who reigned.

In oral history, narrators are not figures of political or social prominence; but individuals devoid from any form of political and social titles. They are people who have lived through and survived significant events—those who endured monarchies, the Rwandan genocide, Armenian genocide etc. These individuals did not influence the geopolitical circumstances that shaped their conditions, but their voices are essential. They shared their lives with neighbors, friends, family, and their communities. Although they did not actively shape history, they embody the very foundation that makes historical documentation possible. When oral history brings forth the perspectives of those from the underrepresented— individuals without privilege or titles—it enables a more realistic reconstruction of the past.

Building on the preceding points, the power of oral history lies in its ability to amplify the narratives of the oppressed, challenging the dominant discourse of the oppressors. On a microscopic level, oral history serves as a vital tool to privilege the voices of marginalized communities, providing a means to articulate the struggles of indigenous nations within colonial and post-colonial contexts. Linda Tuhiwai Smith states in Decolonizing Methodologies, oral histories are not only repositories of knowledge but also acts of resistance, that allows indigenous communities to reclaim their narratives and challenge the frame imposed by colonial powers (Smith, 2012). On a macroscopic level, these testimonies contribute to the reconstruction of the collective identity of the oppressed, enabling them to decentralize the hegemonic narratives imposed by their oppressors. Elizabeth Jelin's work in State Repression and the Labors of Memory, emphasize the importance of memory work in shaping collective identities, particularly in societies recovering from repression (Jelin et al., 2003). Thus, oral history has been the mean through which the colonized resist and counter discursive and epistemic violence.

Oral History in Colonization: The Case of Palestine Between Past and Present

Based on the previous subsection, oral history gives voice to the narrative of indigenous nations and has been a powerful tool throughout history for the natives to reclaim power over their discourse. In this subsection of the paper I will redirect the discipline of oral history in the time of colonization and contextualize it by applying the former to the experiences of Palestinians, particularly during the 1948 Nakba. My focus on the testimonies of the survivors, through public news, interviews and social media outlets. Their voices offer an unfiltered reflection of life in Palestine in 1948. Palestinian oral history archives contain over 1,000 h of oral testimonies from both first-generation Palestinians and displaced Palestinians now living in Lebanon. In studying the testimonies of first-generation Palestinians, I have observed the raw portrayal of lived experiences often missing from the narratives provided by news outlets and history books.

One example is the interview with Fatime Abd al-Salam al-Hanafi, recorded on July 16, 1997, ³ recorded in the Palestinian Oral History Archives (POHA), in which she recounts her experience in Haifa at the onset of the conflict. Her testimony about the bombing of her home and subsequent displacement to A’akka draws the image of resilience. Despite the bombing, she refused to leave her home until she had retrieved all the corpses buried under the rubble. When pressed to evacuate due to increasing danger, she responded ﺑﯿﮫ أﻗﻮم ﻻزم واﺟﺑﻲ ھﺪا (“This is my duty, and I must fulfill it”). She further explains that she felt empowered by God to carry the injured from beneath the rubbles. Her oral testimony is marked by the warmth of her voice when she describes how life was before the occupation, the courage in her voice when she restates the targeting of her house and the anger in her voice when she was retelling her story of displacements. These different layers presented in Fatime's story cannot be portrayed by a written narrative. They provide data for a new epistemic background in understanding the lived experience of Palestinians under the Nakba.

On a broader level, the tradition that prioritizes the voices of witnesses enables a more equitable reconstruction of history. The history derived from such testimonies is more realistic, closer to lived experiences, and, crucially, free from sociopolitical hierarchies. By extracting testimonies, we free ourselves from the social categorizations that fragment societies and privilege certain lives over others. These testimonies do not only reincarnate the personal but also the collective identity.

An example of this is the story of Nayfah Abd al-Tayih, found in the Palestinian Oral History Archives’ Al Jana collection. In her testimony, Nayfah recounts her father's observations as a Palestinian shipper witnessing the influx of foreign ships arriving at the port.

She goes on to describe the reaction of the people in Old Haifa as the battles began, saying, ﺑﺘﺰﻛﺮ ﻟﯿﻠة ﺑﯿﻦ اﻟﻌﺸﻰ واﻟﻤﻐﺮب, ﺑﺎﻟﺠﺴﺮ ﯾﻠﻲ ﻛاﻦ ﻓﻲ رزق أﺑﻮي اﻟﻮ ﻋﻠﻘﺖ اﻟﯿﮭﻮد ﻣﻊ اﻟﻌﺮب (I remember the night between evening and night, on the bridge)—referring to Rushmiyeh bridge—“where my father's business was located; this is where the battle between the Arabs and the Zionists began”). She describes how Palestinians gathered and prepared their weapons, even collecting money to buy arms for self-defense. Reflecting on the imbalance of power and military support, she concludes with, علينا نترك بلدنا ﻋﺎر “Shame on us if we leave our homeland”. Nayfah's testimony not only conveys her personal experience but also captures the collective attitude of the people she was surrounded by back then. Thus, for a fairer representation of individual experiences within a specific historical period and a deeper understanding of the emotional reality of the past, oral history offers a uniquely privileged means of reconstructing history.

On Self Recorded Testimonies

Back to the present, social media and news outlets serve as vital platforms for individuals affected by humanitarian crises to document and share their experiences. Numerous examples demonstrate how these personal testimonies provide the world with an accurate reflection of specific situations. In the ongoing genocide in Gaza, figures like Plestia, Motaz and Bisan, ⁴ along with many others, have used their platforms to convey their lived experiences. Through reels, videos, and photographs, they have documented the atrocities they have endured, using social media as a means of informing the world. To analyze this content, I employed a narrative and thematic analysis approach, focusing on how these testimonies construct a collective narrative of resistance and survival while challenging dominant discourses. By examining recurring themes, such as calls for solidarity, expressions of loss, and assertions of resilience, I sought to highlight how these self-recorded testimonies function not only as a means of communication but also as acts of defiance against epistemic erasure.

These testimonies, much like those preserved in oral history archives, offer data that enriches the field of oral history. As discussed earlier, these data in question are crucial for a fairer reconstruction of the past, as it mirrors the reality of those who lived rather than those who reigned. Self-recorded testimonies, however, provide a perspective that formal interviews may not capture, as the immediate display of emotions—tears, anger, and despair—emerges in the spontaneous recording of their experiences. This unmediated portrayal grants the audience a direct and unfiltered interaction with the individuals in question, delivering a raw authenticity that surpasses any secondary narrative.

The value of oral history lies not in recounting events exactly as they occurred, but in revealing how these events were experienced and interpreted by those who lived through them. Other than the archives that address the past, oral history in portraying the present in humanitarian crisis, is particularly impactful in self-recorded testimonies, where individuals document their own narratives without the mediation of an interviewer. The act of preserving and sharing these testimonies offers invaluable data. Here, the narrator is on the ground, independently capturing their experience. No set of questions could elicit the unfolding truth as effectively as their autobiographical memory a memory that is fresh, immediate, and capable of conveying the direct impact of their experience.

The phenomenon reinforces the reliability of memory as a historical source, supporting the prioritization of self-recorded testimonies over mediated ones, in times when mediated interviews need to be postponed. As noted, “our discovery was prompted by survey findings that highly memorable events tend to be told soon after the event occurs and on multiple occasions thereafter, presumably to clarify the emotional meaning of the event” (Thorne & McLean, 2003). ⁵

In the midst of a humanitarian crisis, researchers who focus on conducting interviews or building theories are often not effectively aiding those affected by the crisis. In such conditions, the primary role of researchers should be to listen to the voices of those directly impacted, rather than approaching them solely as subjects of study. Any fieldwork involving interviews during a crisis not only is unproductive but also risks being inconsiderate to the lived experiences of individuals enduring such suffering. Therefore, when documenting history in times of war, particularly concerning individuals affected by a humanitarian crisis, one of the ethically permissible sources is self-recorded testimony. Any attempt to construct theories by interviewing people currently in distress could be viewed as morally insensitive. While archival records are essential tools for understanding past humanitarian crises, self-recorded testimonies are crucial for understanding crises in the present.

In the previous section, I established the significance of oral history, particularly during times of humanitarian crisis. I identified the unique approach of prioritizing self- recorded testimonies over interview-mediated accounts in the times of present crisis. This choice is rooted not only in the ethical limitations of conducting interviews in crisis contexts but also in the fact that the subject's memory, immediately following an event (and sometimes while it unfolds), is a reliable source. While oral history holds the potential to drive a radical shift in events, I argue that the audience that is, the ones on the receiving end, play a crucial role in either enabling such change or, conversely, aggravating this crisis further. I categorize the audience into two groups: first, those who responded to the force of the testimonies with solidarity, engaging in protests and acts of support; and second, the complicit audience, who align with the colonizer's agenda and uphold existing systems of power. Throughout this paper, whenever I refer to the “audience,” I am specifically referring to the latter group. In the following section, I turn to the role of the audience within this dynamic. To support this, I contend that oral history functions as a form of speech act, where distorting the uptake of this act leads to misrepresenting of the historical memory of the individuals involved and the discrediting of their testimonies. Such distortion presents the world with an altered version of the story—one that not only justifies but also reinforces the humanitarian crisis, effectively diminishing any hope for change for the oppressed.

Oral Testimonies: On the Uptake

These self-recorded testimonies can be regarded as valuable data for constructing a narrative. However, since I treat these testimonies as instances of speech acts, the tripartite ought to be illustrated. On the one hand, we have discussed the input—namely, the set of conditions that establish the speaker's credibility. On the other hand, we have examined the normative output, the conventions which follow a cry for help. Thus, assuming the input is fulfilled and the output should conventionally follow. If these conditions are met, we can argue that the uptake should align with the intended output (Grice, 1989). ⁶

Certain conditions can justify a listener's failure to provide the intended uptake that the speaker aims to elicit because of the ambiguities pertaining to the set of entitlements. In the context of a humanitarian crisis, however, the transition to this output is facilitated by the speaker's memory, empowered by the immediacy of her lived experience.

This autobiographical memory grants her a proper input. These testimonies are not only verbal but are also visually documented through reels and videos. The combined power of imagery and the speaker's voice creates the ideal conditions that should, in theory, align with the conventional output and the proper uptake.

Yet, despite the inherent power of these testimonies, the genocide in Gaza has continued unabated for over a year and has even expanded to impact Lebanon. In this time, internationally banned weapons have been deployed, and Zionist soldiers have targeted paramedics, used phosphorus weaponry, demolished hospitals, and set fire to refugee camps. Bisan's post from October 19, 2024, marking a year since the ongoing genocide began, carried a caption expressing her disappointment: “I don’t know if this post is to ask for your solidarity. We tried it, and nothing stopped Israel's thirst for the blood of my people, or it was not enough for that. But this is to show how horrific our world is, and how alone my people are in the face of the monster.” ⁷ The expected uptake from her testimony is a collective expression of solidarity and a call to unity against the oppressor which has been received by the first category of audience which I have referred to earlier. However, the complicit audience which is inherently built on the systems of power that are hindering any real change render the uptake of solidarity less efficient than it should be. The rest of the paper will analyze the different reasons that makes the distortion of the uptake by the hegemonic power possible.

Violating the Right of Input

“The derealization occurs in language as well, and specifically in the use of certain kinds of descriptors that work to produce the dehumanization of the target population” (Butler, 2009). Language is often viewed as a tool for describing the world, yet it also possesses a performative function, where uttering a word equates to performing an action. Applying both of these functions alongside Butler's insight, we see that in the colonizer's discourse about the native, these two functions intersect.

On the one hand, the colonizer describes the native, but this description is normative and carries normative consequences. When the colonizer's lexicon draws from zoological terminology, the power of this language is to dehumanize the native. Such descriptions produce profound normative consequences: once the native's humanity is stripped away, their moral standing is similarly eroded. As Frantz Fanon observes, “at times this Manichaeism goes to its logical conclusion and dehumanizes the native, or to speak plainly, it turns him into an animal. In fact, the terms the settler uses when he mentions the native are zoological” (Fanon & Philcox, 2004). Descriptions that invoke animalistic characteristics erase the native's humanity, facilitating a suspension of ethical values and thus rendering the native as morally insensible. This deprivation removes the native's status as a being with intrinsic moral worth.

Here, we witness the emergence of new terminology such as “enemy combatant” or “human animals” to describe the native. This language, as Butler observes, “discursively suspends the conventions of humanness, construing a figure whose ‘destruction’ is deemed necessary” (Butler, 2009), Israel fired a missile into the courtyard of Al Ahli hospital, killing 483 people instantly. ⁸ How could such cruelty be justified? This is achieved by characterizing the victims as “human animals.” Defense Minister Yoav Gallant stated in October 2023, “We are fighting against animals and we act accordingly”. ⁹

This framing allows the perpetrators to justify war crimes by ethically suspending values in their treatment of Palestinians. Terminology such as “collateral damage” further obscures the reality of these actions. The deaths of innocent civilians, including children, the elderly, and individuals with disabilities, are portrayed as the necessary “collateral damage” in an operation supposedly directed at Hamas. The power of this language lies in its ability to discursively legitimize this abuse of power. An invader equipped with material advantages and pursuing self-interest wields significant discursive authority. This discursive weapon is used to strip the native of moral standing, thereby excluding them from full participation in linguistic and ethical discourse.

In this instance, we see that it is not the uptake of the native that becomes distorted; rather, the colonizer's act of reducing the native to “human animals” strips them of the entitlements that grant them the right to make an expression. This can be understood as suppressing the voice of the native by depriving them of the fundamental rights necessary for legitimate input. As discussed earlier, input refers to the set of entitlements that enable the speaker to produce a meaningful expression. The most basic input and precondition of speech is the recognition of the speaker as a proper participant in linguistic practices—someone capable of engaging in the normative, inferential aspects of language and effecting normative change within social practices.

However, if the native is alienated from their humanity, they become incapable of possessing the fundamental entitlements required to produce an expression. In this context, their testimonies are reduced to a mere sequence of words lacking any semantic value. The force of the speech act is thus removed from the speaker; although they may still use utterances, the colonizer perceives only a syntactically ordered expression devoid of meaning and therefore incapable of instigating normative change within the situation.

Language, therefore, plays a critical role in shaping the hermeneutical approach to the speaker's testimony. If the speaker is described solely through animalistic characteristics, their testimonies are stripped of value. The colonizer's power, effectively removes the speaker's right to proper input and excludes them from the realm of inherently normative discursive practices. Consequently, these testimonies lose their function as a means of conveying information and raising awareness of the suffering endured by the native. Their speech is reduced to mere words without illocutionary force. Another form of uptake distortion occurs not only at the hands of the colonizer but also through those who are complicit in advancing the colonizer's agenda.

Violating the Right of Uptake

“The native discovers that his life, his breath, his beating heart are the same as those of the settler. He finds out that the settler's skin is not of any more value than a native's skin; and it must be said that this discovery shakes the world in a very necessary manner (Fanon & Philcox, 2004). After years of violence and oppression, Fanon describes the process of decolonization as leading the native to reclaim the humanity that was stripped from them. Upon recognizing the equal worth of their own human skin, the native is compelled to restore their status within the moral community, seeking to shake the world that once degraded their moral standing. At this stage, the native realizes their equal worth with the oppressor and is driven to reclaim that which was taken from them: the right towards input.

This recognition motivates the native to record their testimony, affirming their set of entitlements and their knowledge of a history marked by cruelty under colonial rule. In doing so, they revive their collective memory—a memory embedded with trauma and oppression.

With this restored right to input, the native now establishes their voice as a participant in discursive practices, a voice that deserves to be heard. This is why we observe a rise in self-recorded testimonies, especially amidst the recent genocide, as the native seeks refuge in these testimonies with the conviction that their voice must resonate.

Having established their entitlement to speak, they anticipate an uptake that aligns with the normative output. Through these testimonies, they bring their suppressed voices to the surface, creating credible narratives that meet the conditions of genuine expression. At this stage, their speech is infused with an expectation that a corresponding normative change will follow. Those who are complicit in the colonizer's agenda may not actively dehumanize the native. Instead, they might regard the native as a credible speaker, while justifying the colonizer's cruelty as a necessary means to suppress resistance. Despite this justification, they still treat individuals such as Motaz, Plestia, and Bisan as legitimate testimony givers. As credible witnesses, these individuals meet the set of entitlements that validate their expressions. These entitlements include their participation in discursive practices, their direct experience of events, and, as noted earlier, the self-recorded nature of most of these testimonies. The immediacy of their fresh memory further reinforces their status as speakers.

However, distortion arises in the level of the uptake. The complicit audience fails to grant a proper uptake to these testimony givers—an uptake that should align with the intended output. Through their testimonies, these speakers seek to alert the audience to the atrocities they endure, with the goal of prompting constructive action to halt the colonizer's aggression. As Fanon writes, “at the very core of the oppressing nation voices are raised, and listened to, which draw attention to the gravity of the situation” (Fanon & Philcox, 2004). While the voices of the natives are indeed raised, as proved by social media and news outlets filled with their testimonies, these voices are, tragically distorted by the hegemonic power.

To genuinely listen to the expression means to provide it with the proper uptake. If a call for solidarity and action is dismissed, the speaker's right to proper uptake is denied. For decades, since the Nakba, the native's agency has been dehumanized by the colonizers and their discourse through the exercise of discursive and epistemic violence.