One need not possess a particularly keen analytical mind, merely an unblinkered gaze, to discern the common thread stitching together the disparate horrors splashed across today’s news wires. From the absurd to the truly monstrous, the unifying factor is the state – or, more precisely, the malevolent consequences that inevitably flow when its apparatuses are unbound by principle, decency, or even basic human respect.
Consider the stand-up comic, now mercifully set for release, who dared to “insult” Erdoğan. An insult! In what free society, in what world valuing individual liberty, is the verbal expression of disapproval towards a public figure met with the iron fist of the law? This is not justice; it is the fragile ego of a tyrant, cloaked in the robes of state authority, enforcing a blasphemy code against levity itself. It is a chilling reminder that where the state believes its image paramount, individual expression becomes its first casualty.
Then we turn to Iran, where a singer faces lashes for performing without a hijab. The sheer, unadulterated barbarity of this sentence, a grotesque violation of bodily autonomy and personal choice, is almost beyond comprehension. Yet, it perfectly illustrates the theocratic state's ambition: not merely to govern, but to own the very souls of its citizens, dictating their attire, their art, their most intimate decisions. This is the logical end-point of a state that conflates its diktats with divine will, where every personal deviation becomes a public affront deserving of physical torment.
The stories from South Africa and Nigeria, regarding the horrific killings and suspected kidnap victims, offer a different, yet equally damning, indictment of state failure. When the social contract breaks down, when the state either cannot or will not protect its most vulnerable citizens, a void emerges, filled by criminal elements and brutal power plays. Whether it is systemic violence against women or mass kidnappings, the state’s primary legitimate function – the protection of individual rights, chief among them the right to life and security – is demonstrably absent. The fact that these atrocities occur under the state’s nominal purview is not an exculpation, but a condemnation.
And what of the DRC politician beaten to death after a radio appearance, or the reopened case of alleged gang rape at Cornell? While differing vastly in context and locale, both underscore the profound dangers inherent when power, whether political or social, is wielded without robust accountability. A politician’s violent demise for daring to speak, or the re-examination of a case where horrific crimes allegedly went unpunished for too long, speaks to environments where justice is either suppressed or delayed, victims are marginalized, and the powerful are shielded. These are not merely individual tragedies; they are systemic failures to uphold the rule of law and protect the weak against the strong.
The libertarian diagnosis, unfashionable though it may be in an age clamoring for ever-larger government, remains unflinchingly clear: the state is a necessary evil, but an evil nonetheless. Its primary, indeed *sole*, moral justification is the protection of individual rights and the enforcement of voluntary contracts. When it oversteps these bounds, when it presumes to dictate thought, dress, or personal conduct, when it fails to protect its citizens from predation, or worse, *becomes* the predator, it becomes the greatest threat to human flourishing. Today’s news is not a call for more state intervention, but a stark, bloody reminder of the profound perils of too much.
Cornelius Bragg
Economics Editor, The Artificial Press