Fleeing Political Violence & The Pain of Watching Others Look Away
Fleeing is not just about physical survival; it is an existential rupture. It demands a reckoning with the knowledge that the place, the people, or the system that once provided safety and belonging has become a site of danger. This shift is profoundly disorienting.
The psychological and personal toll of fleeing a politically violent situation is profound, yet often overlooked in discussions that focus more on the logistics of escape or the broader political ramifications. The act of leaving—whether it’s leaving a home, a country, or even just a community where authoritarianism has taken root—forces individuals into a position where they must confront not just external danger, but also deep betrayals, isolation, and moral fractures that shape the rest of their lives.
The Psychological Toll of Fleeing
Fleeing is not just about physical survival; it is an existential rupture. It demands a reckoning with the knowledge that the place, the people, or the system that once provided safety and belonging has become a site of danger. This shift is profoundly disorienting.
1. Cognitive dissonance & emotional paralysis
- Many people hesitate to leave because they struggle to reconcile the severity of what is happening with their emotional attachment to their home or loved ones.
- Even when the signs are clear, the human brain resists upheaval. It seeks stability, even in oppressive conditions, because the known is psychologically easier to manage than the unknown.
- Those who recognize the danger early often experience frustration and despair when they see others refusing to acknowledge it.
2. Mourning the loss of home & identity
- Home is not just a place; it is a psychological anchor. Leaving means severing the ties that ground a person’s sense of self.
- The loss is compounded when fleeing is not just a matter of physical safety but also of ideological exile—realizing that the people around you do not share your sense of urgency or moral clarity.
- There is often a feeling of mourning for the person you used to be before the crisis forced you to see the world differently.
3. Guilt & survivor’s syndrome
- Those who leave often carry immense guilt, feeling as if they have abandoned the fight, their people, or the place they loved.
- There is also the painful knowledge that others are trapped, and that some will suffer in ways they have been spared.
- This guilt can be compounded if they had to leave loved ones behind, especially if those loved ones didn’t (or couldn’t) recognize the danger in time.
The Pain of Watching Others Look Away
One of the most psychologically excruciating aspects of fleeing is witnessing how many people—including friends and family—refuse to see what is happening. This is not just painful because of the political stakes; it is painful because it forces a moral reckoning with people you once trusted.
1. The betrayal of silence
- When those you love refuse to acknowledge the crisis, it can feel like a deep personal betrayal.
- Some may dismiss your concerns as paranoia, accuse you of overreacting, or outright deny the facts in front of them.
- This indifference is sometimes more painful than the violence itself because it confirms that, when tested, your bonds with these people do not hold.
2. The protective instinct vs. the reality of denial
- Those who recognize the danger early often feel an overwhelming need to warn and protect those they care about.
- But when these warnings are dismissed, it creates a devastating realization: some people will not leave until it is too late, and some will never accept that they are in danger at all.
- This realization forces an agonizing choice—do you stay longer, risking yourself to try to convince them? Or do you turn your back, knowing you may never see them again?
3. Breaking away from those who refuse to see
- Leaving often means severing ties with those who choose willful ignorance.
- This is not just about cutting off individuals—it is about accepting that an entire world, a community, a shared history, is no longer accessible.
- The psychological cost of this break can feel like an amputation—a forced detachment from people who once defined your sense of self.
Aftermath: The Permanent Exile
Even after fleeing, the psychological toll does not end. Political violence does not just expel people from their homes; it creates permanent exiles, both physically and emotionally.
1. The Emotional alienation of awareness
- Those who left early often find themselves in a state of emotional exile—disconnected not just from their homeland but also from those who stayed behind.
- There is a strange, liminal existence where they no longer belong fully to the place they left, but they also do not belong in their new home.
- Even if the people they tried to warn eventually recognize the truth, the bond is never quite the same.
2. The ghosts of the past
- There is always the haunting knowledge of what was left behind—the people, the memories, the versions of oneself that could have existed in a different world.
- Those who flee sometimes feel like ghosts in their own lives, forever shaped by the knowledge that the people they loved were unable (or unwilling) to make the same choice.
3. The guilt of survival
- For those who successfully flee while others suffer, survival can feel like an unearned privilege.
- Many exiles experience a lingering sense of debt; a compulsion to fight from afar, to document, to bear witness, as if trying to atone for the act of leaving.
How to Survive the Psychological Toll
For those who are facing these choices now, or for those who have already left and are struggling with the weight of it, there are ways to navigate the psychological trauma.
1. Accept that some people will never see it until it's too Late
- The hardest part of waking up to a crisis is realizing that not everyone will wake up with you.
- You cannot force people to see what they refuse to see, and you cannot destroy yourself trying to save those who won’t save themselves.
2. Recognize that leaving is an act of resistance
- Authoritarianism thrives on fear and isolation. Every person who flees carries truth, history, and testimony with them.
- To leave is not to surrender. It is to preserve the ability to fight another day.
3. Find new communities that understand
- The loneliness of leaving can be overwhelming, but you are not alone.
- There are others who have walked the same path—connect with them. Exile can be survivable when shared.
4. Honor those you left behind without letting guilt consume you
- Survivor’s guilt is common, but it is not a punishment you must bear.
- The best way to honor those who could not leave is to live, to tell the truth, and to resist in whatever way you can.
The Quiet Violence of Looking Away
Fleeing political violence is not just about escaping danger. It's about navigating loss, betrayal, and survival in ways that fundamentally change who you are.
The hardest truth is that authoritarianism does not only survive through violence—it survives through silence. The people who choose to look away may not be carrying weapons, but they enable the violence all the same.
For those who flee, the most painful part is often not just leaving home, but realizing that some people—sometimes the ones you love most—were never willing to fight for it in the first place.
And so, our choice becomes: to turn away from the ones who turn away, even when it breaks our hearts.
Final Thoughts: Why This Matters for Resistance
Understanding why people stay is not just about historical curiosity—it’s about recognizing how authoritarianism psychologically traps people so that history keeps repeating itself.
- Some will stay because they don't have the means to leave.
- Some will stay because they believe the worst won’t happen.
- Some will stay because they don’t want to abandon their people.
- Some will stay because leaving feels like giving up.
Knowing this helps shape resistance strategy
- Education & media literacy: People need to recognize authoritarianism early before the choice to leave disappears.
- Building escape networks: Authoritarians restrict movement; resistance efforts must create ways for people to leave before it’s too late.
- Moral support for exiles: Those who leave often feel guilt and alienation. They need to know that leaving is a legitimate form of resistance.
Books That Cover It All
If you want one or two books that cover multiple angles, I’d suggest:
- They Thought They Were Free by Milton Mayer (on denial & staying)
- Exit, Voice, and Loyalty by Albert O. Hirschman (on why people stay in broken systems)
- Bloodlands by Timothy Snyder (on what happens when people stay too long)