Rethinking Institutional Engagement: Between Morality and Strategy

Published in The Georgetown Gazette, Ameer Sadi’s recent article, “When Representation Becomes Collusion,” is an emotionally charged, rhetorically populist, and compelling denunciation of the political scene at GU-Q. It resonates with moral passion and stance against oppression, whether it’s the war on Gaza, the invasion of Iraq, or the recent military acts against Yemen. Sadi raises important moral questions; however, his framework risks collapsing under the weight of its own binaries and lack of a strategic, pragmatic, and applicable vision. Sadi argues that Arab and minority students who engage with institutions like the U.S. State Department or NATO are not only mistaken but complicit in the very imperial systems they claim to oppose. He labels such efforts as “naïve,” “dangerous,” and “delusional,” accusing the aspiring diplomats of color of selling out on the communities they represent in order to grab themselves a seat at the American table. 

The world is not neatly divided between revolutionaries and traitors. This binary, while emotionally satisfying and pleasing, is intellectually inaccurate. Change has always involved a struggle within institutions as well as outside them. Suggesting that every Arab or person of color working within these institutions is a slave of the empire is not only unfair, but it also refuses to understand how systemic change actually takes place. For instance, Susan Rice, an African-American diplomat, served as the U.S. Ambassador to the United Nations and later as National Security Advisor. During her career in American Foreign Policy, she played an important role in shaping U.S. foreign policy towards the African continent, including backing democratic transitions in countries like South Africa and Nigeria, and increasing U.S. support in combating HIV/AIDS on the continent. George J. Mitchell, a Lebanese-American, served as the U.S. Special Envoy for Northern Ireland, where he contributed to the application of the Good Friday Agreement, effectively ending decades of deadly conflict. Was Colin Powell complicit in a catastrophic war against one of the most important nations in the Middle East? Yes. Does that mean every Rangel Fellow is a cog in the same machine? Absolutely not. Does that mean all of them are actually trying to push for change? Also no. 

We cannot collapse the acts of a handful of high-ranking spineless officials into a blanket accusation of treason against every minority diplomat trying to make an impact on these institutions from within. By doing so, we trade historical accuracy for emotional trumpet effects. The luxury of outsider purity gives an easy way out through comfort in rejecting institutions altogether, allowing one to maintain ethical superiority in front of others without the burden of responsibility and thinking about the landscape with its current system. Declaring institutions “irredeemable” while offering no actionable alternative is not just radical, it’s impotent and does nothing to the cause but emotionally hype the audience to stand up and clap. Sadi decries representation as a trap, yet offers no rite of passage for how structural change might realistically occur, just like in South Africa and many other places. Should we abandon diplomacy altogether? Should we refuse to learn how NATO, the current unipolar force of this planet, works? If so, what is the path forward? Throw ourselves into Russian arms filled with Syrian and Ukrainian blood? Jump into Iran’s lap, which has similar imperialist intentions to NATO? Or perhaps endorse China, which still holds millions of Uyghurs hostage in modern-day gulags? If revolution is the goal, then what kind of revolution, and how will that even be successful in the middle of a very politically weak Arab world? Who leads it? These are questions Sadi never tries to discuss, because it is easier to shout and scream than to analyse the chessboard. 

It is necessary to criticize Western foreign policy, to mourn its victims, and to recognize the harms it has inflicted in Iraq, Palestine, Yemen, and beyond. But it is also necessary to make room for those who seek to prevent future harm by entering the very halls of power Sadi wants us to abandon. A Palestinian-American working in the State Department is not a traitor. They may be one of the few voices in the room reminding others that a human life in Gaza is worth no less than a life in Tel Aviv. To reduce such people to pawns of the empire is not only inaccurate, it is dehumanizing. GU-Q exists precisely to engage with difficult, morally complex questions like these. That includes NATO events, U.S. State Department talks, and yes, protest movements in solidarity with the innocents being massacred in Palestine in front of the world’s hypocritical eyes. The idea that we should cancel one in favor of the other is shortsighted and self-defeating. You don’t have to join the Israeli army to learn about its tactics, but if you want to stop it, you’d better understand how it operates. This is the same with NATO’s functionalities. Knowledge is not complicity; it’s ammunition.

While Sadi’s criticism of representation in Western institutions comes from a place of moral concern, it risks oversimplifying a very complex issue, which is global politics. It’s not enough to call for a full-scale rejection of such institutions without offering a practical, strategic roadmap for what could replace them or how to bring about substantial change. Working within the system, even with everything inside of it, is not an act of collusion or hypocrisy; it can be a necessary means of advancing the causes we care about.