It is an understatement to say the first months of 2026 have been difficult for human rights and international law. From the reignition of armed conflict, the killing of civilians by state officials, protests about the disrespect for human dignity, withdrawals from international institutions to the implicit endorsement of génocidaires in diplomatic visits. All in all, the first quarter of the year was a time when the pillars I believe sustain our collective humanity seem to have been rendered obsolete.

These months were challenging as well on a very personal level. At the end of January, I learned that a valued member of my family had been diagnosed with a rare type of cancer for which there is little to no expertise in our home country. Against this background, doctors recommended we travel abroad, where experts would be able to provide a more rigorous treatment in Houston, Texas. My personal embargo on travel to the United States in current times was over, as the situation required immediate action. It reflected a moral conflict where our options were limited.

Upon our arrival, the first person we met was a Venezuelan uber driver who had been living in Houston for over 12 years already. He was a friendly man in his late 30s, polite and kind. Being in traffic for over an hour allowed us to have a thorough conversation in which we were able to get to know each other better. We covered a lot of ground, from the most trivial topics, such as supermarkets in the area and accessible nearby restaurants, to the grave homelessness crisis, politics and the current administration’s stance on minorities.

Soon in the conversation, he revealed he had 2 children of primary school age, who, he worried, are exposed to “too much liberalism”. When we asked what he meant, he narrated how one day, one of his children came home from school confused by an interaction they had had with a classmate. The child wondered how it was possible for their classmate to have two mothers instead of a mother and a father. Our driver seemed quite hurt when retelling this story, as he could not find the right explanation, limiting himself to telling his child that such a situation “was not normal” and to try to stay away from that classmate. To him, a lesbian couple with a child was not only “not normal”, but also not acceptable whatsoever. The possibility of his child interacting with “people like that” posed heavy preoccupation on him.

This preoccupation was consistent with a specific cultural context. His views were in line with the most prevalent narrative across Latin America, where a great percentage of the population would agree that it is not uncommon to hear comments of rejection or discrimination against LGBTQ+ individuals. Machismo is so ingrained in our societies that this behavior is no longer surprising. Rather, I would argue that it is a surprise when strangers let others know that they believe in equality and respect for all, or that, at a minimum, everyone should be able to co-exist.  In most scenarios, nonetheless, the opposite idea predominates. Thus, none of the driver’s comments about the lesbian mothers were shocking to me.

Somewhat more surprising, however, were his views on immigrants that, like him, tried to reach a place where they could enjoy a better life. In his opinion, immigrants, including those coming from Venezuela, were only a nuisance, receiving countless benefits from American society without contributing to it. Not only was he in favor of returning migrants to their countries of nationality, but he was an adamant defendant of keeping everyone out, regardless of their situation. As he explained how irritated he was with other immigrants’ presence in Texas, I could only wonder what made him so different from everyone else, “why you and not them?”

Little did I know that those comments were only progressively building up to ultimately culminate in the most enigmatic comment: “if I had the right to vote, I would have voted for Trump. I am glad he won.” Almost two months prior to this moment, Nicolás Maduro had been abducted by the United States. The reasoning behind his argument could have, perhaps, been explained by the sensitivity of this topic and the general feeling that the dictatorial nightmare was over for Venezuelans, even those living abroad. Nonetheless, without delving on the topic of Venezuela, he continued by explaining how Trump’s policies are not only morally desirable, but also justifiable because he was democratically elected.

His idea of justice and righteousness was almost completely based on an aspect of democracy that is so severely misunderstood that it becomes void of its own meaning. It is the idea that a democratic election can override any access to rights for certain groups; that the opinions of an elected leader, whatever they may be, prevail over adherence to the law and the rights of individuals; and it is permissible for rights to be taken away in democratic elections if the majority chooses to do so. In other words, ‘if this is what we (or they) voted for and decided, then it is valid’.

With this perspective not only are we denying the rights of ‘others’ who may not look like us, but we are also denying ourselves. Not only was the driver rejecting the idea that LGBTQ+ people deserve dignity (and that saying so is justifiable because this is the narrative that dominates in society), but he was also unknowingly admitting that he, as a migrant himself, does not deserve dignity either. The rejection of rights as an ideal in society is so severe in the present that the ‘othering’ of groups is not as powerful as before because it has been overused. Groups in society are no longer pitted against each other, but against themselves. They no longer look outward for blame, but they deny that they themselves are worthy of dignity.

The core of this interaction shone a light on how global tensions and manipulating political narratives have produced an immense misconception of the interconnectedness between democracy and human rights. Perhaps, this notion arguably predates present times, as it is certain that finding an escape goat has been a strategy for centuries when attempting to mask an underlying problem without directly addressing it. However, the mistakes of the past are not at all comparable to those of the present given the abundance of efforts humanity has made to protect itself from suffering. Whereas thousands or even hundreds of years ago all was fair, today international legal standards exist for that mere purpose.

Yet, today’s distancing from those legal standards moves us away from a dignified future for all and back into the law of the strongest. Today the escape goat rhetoric remains, as a result of which tyrannic rule returns and populations grow oblivious of the fact that human rights exist precisely to protect those who may be disadvantaged by majority decisions. It is, therefore, important we consistently remind ourselves of this fact to avoid becoming strangers to human dignity, including our own, because what humanity has paid so costly for is not at all in vain.