In the summer of 2009, I traveled with my family to the crown jewel of Arab entrepreneurship and advancement, the metropolitan emirate of Dubai. Known for the sudden and explosive expansion of its tourism industry, Dubai has established itself as a prime vacation spot for world travelers within the last couple of decades. As a tourist myself, I was held in rapture by its glittering architecture and record-breaking monuments. The lure of the city veiled my eyes from the corruption of its creation, itself an expression of the failure of humanity to recognize and support the rights of its members.
Upon arriving home in the States, I decided to delve into the history of Dubai. After some research on this supposed “City of Wonders,” I realized that undercurrents of depravity had surrounded me as I walked among its skyscrapers and shopping centers. What I uncovered was that Dubai was essentially built by a slave class. The multitudes of construction workers I had seen were part of a social stratum of trafficked humans, former residents of underdeveloped countries taken advantage of and abused by corporations looking to make a buck. Dubai’s acceptance and implicit approval of this practice marks it as an epicenter not of human excellence, but of vice and corruption.
I never really thought I would run into human trafficking again, or at least not for a while. Little did I know that I would not have to step outside the boundaries of my home country to encounter modern day slavery again. In a recent discussion about social justice with one of my friends (a circumstance which I have realized occurs frequently here at Georgetown), I was told about the ventures of my friend’s mother, a social worker working with a group of Indian trafficking victims. What really struck me was that this case did not occur in some underdeveloped, authoritarian country, but in our own nation, victims exploited by U.S. citizens. Apparently, this was not an extraordinary case; trafficking in this country is a major problem, albeit one that is incredibly under-vocalized.
We tend to think of slavery as a relic of the past, an antique element of social life that should provide for us, in retrospect, a greater understanding of the moral responsibilities we have as humans. After a brief reflection, we usually proceed to revel in the liberties we now have living in the United States. With the values our country upholds, and with a history already tainted by slavery, it is absurd to think about the blatant human rights violations that occur right under our noses.
How can a country with liberty at its foundation account for such atrocities within and outside its borders, committed by both government policy and government neglect? I may be accused of not giving the government enough slack, or adding to the already extensive list of troubles our country is facing. But I don’t think our real issue is the enormity of the problems we face, but the way we face them. It’s time to straighten out our priorities by placing morality first and foremost in our decisions. What if our policies, instead of focusing on the perpetual struggle for power that defines Congressional activity, were designed to protect human integrity?
When the United States was formed as a country for justice, it made great strides towards that central ideal. But there came a point where we seemed to have jumped the gun in thinking we achieved it. The quest for justice is really never-ending, and policies should continually be created with the intent to strive towards justice. The termination of slavery as a social institution was a huge step in the right direction; the emergence of human trafficking is the equivalent of walking backwards. Our neglect of this social issue, and countless others, suggests a disconnect between the current-day United States and the principles it was founded on. In order to be the country we are meant to be, we have to once again embrace the values of morality in our actions as well as words, so that each step taken will be with the right direction and intent: to achieve justice.
Insightful and eloquent. Enough said.