In the Silence of War, Let Art Be Our Voice.
In a world torn by wars, climate crises, and rising fears of what tomorrow might bring, our collective soul feels heavy. The news cycles churn with unrest. Borders are tense. Trust is fraying. And in the midst of all this uncertainty, one question quietly echoes through us all: What can bring us together?
The answer, surprisingly yet profoundly, might be: art.
Not as decoration. Not as distraction. But as a force of connection, a language of empathy, and a mirror to our shared humanity.
Art is Humanity’s First and Most Honest Language
Before we had words, we had drawings. In caves across the world—from Bhimbetka in India to Lascaux in France—our ancestors painted not just animals and hunts, but emotions, rituals, dreams. Art is the oldest language we know—one without grammar, yet full of meaning.
Today, when global politics divide us, art remains borderless. A painting by a Syrian child, a poem by a Ukrainian refugee, a dance in a war-torn African village—these aren’t just acts of survival; they are acts of reclaiming humanity. They remind us that beyond our flags, faiths, and fears, we are all trying to say the same thing: “I exist. I feel. I hope.”
Art Connects Before It Corrects
We live in a time when talking often turns into shouting. Art doesn’t argue. It invites. It opens a door. Whether it’s a photograph, a melody, a mural, or a handmade craft, art doesn’t need translation. It touches something primal—our ability to feel. Imagine a gallery where a Palestinian sculptor and an Israeli painter exhibit side by side. Or a film that tells the story of migration from both ends of the ocean. These aren’t fantasies—they’re happening already. And in these moments, art succeeds where diplomacy fails: it helps us listen.
The Emotional Architecture of Peace
Peace isn’t just the absence of war—it’s the presence of understanding. Art builds that foundation by helping us:
See each other without judgment
Respect stories different from our own
Express grief, anger, and love in ways that don’t harm others
Heal from trauma with beauty instead of bitterness
Art gives people—especially children and those silenced by conflict—a safe way to express what can’t be said out loud. When someone paints a broken home or writes a poem about loss, they are not just telling their story. They are asking the world to feel it.
Art as a Bridge, Not a Weapon
In history, art has both divided and united. Propaganda can incite hate. But true art—made with empathy and truth—bridges worlds. It reminds us that behind every uniform is a heartbeat. Behind every difference, a desire to be seen.
We need more murals on streets and fewer monuments to violence. More cultural exchanges and fewer trade wars. More investment in art education and less in arms. Because the child who learns to draw may never learn to destroy.
Hope, One Creation at a Time
In moments of deep despair, we don’t need grand revolutions—we need small, honest creations. A song sung at a protest. A dance performed in rubble. A painting gifted to a stranger. These quiet offerings say: I believe in something better. Artists are not just entertainers. They are the emotional architects of a better future. They don’t just reflect the times—they reshape them.
Final Brushstroke
As a global art community, we must rise—not just in skill, but in spirit.
Let us not underestimate what a sculpture can symbolize, what a gallery can gather, what a theatre performance can transform. In these chaotic times, art is not a luxury. It is a necessity. It is not just beauty—it is bravery. It is the soul’s refusal to surrender. Let us hold our brushes, cameras, words, and voices like lanterns in the dark. Not to escape reality, but to light a new path through it—together.
With love and fire,
ASIF AKBAR