Dr. Ahmed Amara
Anyone who attends a session at the United Nations Human Rights Council in Geneva, Switzerland, for example, will be struck by the amount of empathy shown for the Palestinian cause in particular, and for the causes of oppressed peoples in general. One is left bewildered as to how Palestine was allowed to be destroyed, how its liberation has been delayed, and why the rights of its people—including their return to their homeland—have yet to be secured. These sessions are not only attended by those who support the cause, such as civil society organizations striving for justice, but also by officials holding high positions in the UN human rights framework. And who among us does not associate Switzerland with peace, human rights (and also chocolate, cheese, and watches)? This was the general feeling of the fourth group of the Mizan Human Rights Foundation, consisting of lawyers and activists, whom I trained in advocacy and international human rights law last March. In addition to the lofty texts aimed at ensuring human rights, the sessions and meetings hinted at a disjointed reality, separate from what we are familiar with and accustomed to. It is impossible to deny that it was a good feeling, even though it was illusory and misleading.
I had to leave Geneva on the last day of the training to attend a workshop in Accra, Ghana, in West Africa, on the post-colonial city and its development, hosted by New York University’s branch in the Ghanaian capital. I was passing through Lisbon, Portugal, on my way to Ghana. Those details were not significant until I visited the Cape Coast Slave Castle in Ghana, one of forty castles built along the coast of Ghana between the 15th and 19th centuries. These castles, originally established as forts, were later developed into castles used in the European struggle for dominance over Africa’s resources. The Portuguese, who were the first to colonize the “Gold Coast” (now Ghana) in 1471, played a key role in this colonial history, along with other European colonial powers such as Sweden, Denmark, the Netherlands, Germany, Britain, Belgium, and France. These powers established these castles, initially centers for managing the trade of wood and gold, and later used for the horrific trade of human beings—African men, women, and children—who were gathered in these castles and shipped to Europe before being distributed to the “New World”—the Americas. The slaves were commodities, just like gold, wood, sugar, and spices, fulfilling the insatiable greed of European powers.
This forms the triangle of injustice and destruction between Africa, Europe, and the Americas—a triangle of genocide and colonization, a triangle of constructing and destroying civilizations that continues to impact Africa’s tragedies as well as Western progress to this day. The crime of slavery and colonization remains the greatest crime in history, a crime of annihilation and the destruction of hundreds of millions of human lives! We must not forget this crime or fall into the trap of emphasizing newer, grotesque crimes—such as the Holocaust and the crimes of World War II—which brought about the development of the human rights discourse we discussed in Geneva. These newer crimes, however horrific, should not overshadow the scale and impact of historical crimes that are often ignored.
I traveled with friends for three hours west of the capital, Accra. The landscape was stunningly green and tropical, a part of Africa rarely imagined—one that contrasts sharply with the more common images of poverty, desert, and violence. This shift in scenery was particularly noticeable after leaving Accra, which is densely packed with narrow streets, widespread poverty, and sprawling waste sites. Despite the apparent chaos in the streets with vendors selling their goods, there was an unexpected sense of balance and tranquility, marked by mutual respect and high morals—something not commonly witnessed in our own crowded, congested conditions with poor infrastructure. We reached the Cape Coast region and entered the castle, which has since become a major tourist site and a pilgrimage destination for African Americans and others from the Americas. The view was one of desolation and grandeur, and during the tour, the full scale of the crime slowly unfolded before us.
The Cape Coast Castle was one of the central points in the brutal transatlantic slave trade, where enslaved Africans were kept before being shipped to the Americas. As I walked through its dark, cold corridors and looked out over the Atlantic Ocean, I could not help but feel the weight of history pressing down on me. The castle itself, now a museum, bears witness to the unimaginable horrors endured by millions of Africans during their forced journey across the ocean—a journey that left an indelible scar on the African continent and the entire world.
The atrocities of slavery and colonialism are often relegated to the margins of history, overshadowed by other, more recent horrors. Yet, these crimes shaped the world we live in today. The legacy of slavery is still evident in the socio-economic realities of many African countries, in the continued marginalization of indigenous populations, and in the systemic inequalities faced by people of African descent globally. The human rights framework that we discuss today must reckon with these historical crimes and ensure that they are not forgotten.
The journey to Cape Coast was a reminder of how much remains unresolved in the fight for justice for the descendants of those enslaved. It is not enough to simply acknowledge the past; we must actively work to right the wrongs that were committed. This requires not only confronting the history of slavery and colonization but also addressing the ongoing legacies of these crimes, which continue to shape the lives of millions of people today.
This triangle of injustice—the relationship between Africa, Europe, and the Americas—is not merely a historical relic; it is a living legacy. And as long as we continue to ignore the deep scars left by this history, the cycle of oppression and exploitation will continue to haunt us all. The struggle for justice, equality, and dignity must encompass not only contemporary issues but also the deep, unresolved wounds of the past. We cannot afford to forget the greatest crime in history—the crime of slavery and colonization—or the profound impact it continues to have on the world today.