They Shouldn't Have Been Silenced
On the DNC and the speech we should have heard.
The 2024 Democratic National Convention in Chicago largely went off without a hitch, a seamless spectacle designed to evoke the joy that the American electorate seemingly craves. The speeches were polished, the rhetoric uplifting, yet I found myself unsettled. Most seemed unwilling to truly address the pressing policy issues that weigh heavily on our collective conscience: gun laws, climate change, police brutality, healthcare, education, the widening wealth gap. These issues, these fractures in our American existence, were sidelined, sacrificed at the altar of collective joy.
The convention was instead a celebration, a reprieve from the relentless grind of reality, not the platform for agenda sharing I would have liked. But I’m sure that was the point.
In an era of fatigue, where the very act of waking up can feel like a victory, it’s not lost on me that joy is a radical act, a form of resistance. But joy without substance, without the grounding force of policy and purpose, is fleeting. It is a flash of light in the dark, beautiful but ultimately swallowed by the void.
Yet, what troubled me most, what I could not accept, was the DNC's silence on the Uncommitted movement. Thirty delegates, representing the hundreds of thousands who cast their ballots for “uncommitted” rather than for President Biden in the primaries, stood in Chicago, their voices muted. These were not fringe elements; they were individuals who dared to demand more, who called for a ceasefire and an end to arms transfers to Israel, who sought to give voice to the voiceless in Gaza. Their ask was modest—allow a Palestinian American or a doctor who has volunteered in Gaza to speak on the main stage. But the DNC, in its pursuit of unity and joy, chose to sideline these voices, to relegate them to the periphery of the conversation.
Even though they allowed the parents of an American hostage held by Hamas to speak, granting them a platform to share their pain and make their appeal, the omission of the Uncommitted delegates from the main stage was not merely a lapse in moral judgment; it was a grave political miscalculation. These delegates hail from battleground states like Michigan, the very foundation of the so-called “blue wall,” vital to Democratic survival. In silencing them, the DNC risks alienating those voters whose support might be the difference between victory and defeat.
To deny the Uncommitted movement a platform is to deny the legitimacy of their concerns, to pretend that their voices do not matter. But they do matter. They matter because they represent a deep-seated discomfort with the status quo, a discomfort that will not be assuaged by speeches alone. If the DNC truly seeks to unite, it must embrace the fullness of the Democratic coalition, even those who dissent, who push, who demand more. Joy is important, yes, but it must be grounded in justice, in a commitment to the values that define us as a party and as a nation. Without that, all the joy in the world will not be enough.
I've decided to share the speech that the Uncommitted movement submitted to the DNC for pre-approval, hoping that Georgia State Rep. Ruwa Romman, a Palestinian American Democrat, would be granted just two minutes to speak. Though the speech was never delivered on the convention's main stage, it speaks to the heart of the movement’s message—one of justice, humanity, and the acknowledgment of those who are often silenced. It was originally shared in Mother Jones, a platform that has long championed voices at the margins.
This speech is not a radical manifesto; it is a plea for recognition, a reminder that the Democratic Party must not only embrace joy but also the uncomfortable truths that challenge it:
My name is Ruwa Romman, and I’m honored to be the first Palestinian elected to public office in the great state of Georgia and the first Palestinian to ever speak at the Democratic National Convention. My story begins in a small village near Jerusalem, called Suba, where my dad’s family is from. My mom’s roots trace back to Al Khalil, or Hebron. My parents, born in Jordan, brought us to Georgia when I was eight, where I now live with my wonderful husband and our sweet pets.
Growing up, my grandfather and I shared a special bond. He was my partner in mischief—whether it was sneaking me sweets from the bodega or slipping a $20 into my pocket with that familiar wink and smile. He was my rock, but he passed away a few years ago, never seeing Suba or any part of Palestine again. Not a day goes by that I don’t miss him.
This past year has been especially hard. As we’ve been moral witnesses to the massacres in Gaza, I’ve thought of him, wondering if this was the pain he knew too well. When we watched Palestinians displaced from one end of the Gaza Strip to the other I wanted to ask him how he found the strength to walk all those miles decades ago and leave everything behind.
But in this pain, I’ve also witnessed something profound—a beautiful, multifaith, multiracial, and multigenerational coalition rising from despair within our Democratic Party. For 320 days, we’ve stood together, demanding to enforce our laws on friend and foe alike to reach a ceasefire, end the killing of Palestinians, free all the Israeli and Palestinian hostages, and to begin the difficult work of building a path to collective peace and safety. That’s why we are here—members of this Democratic Party committed to equal rights and dignity for all. What we do here echoes around the world.
They’ll say this is how it’s always been, that nothing can change. But remember Fannie Lou Hamer—shunned for her courage, yet she paved the way for an integrated Democratic Party. Her legacy lives on, and it’s her example we follow.
But we can’t do it alone. This historic moment is full of promise, but only if we stand together. Our party’s greatest strength has always been our ability to unite. Some see that as a weakness, but it’s time we flex that strength.
Let’s commit to each other, to electing Vice President Harris and defeating Donald Trump who uses my identity as a Palestinian as a slur. Let’s fight for the policies long overdue—from restoring access to abortions to ensuring a living wage, to demanding an end to reckless war and a ceasefire in Gaza. To those who doubt us, to the cynics and the naysayers, I say, yes we can—yes we can be a Democratic Party that prioritizes funding our schools and hospitals, not for endless wars. That fights for an America that belongs to all of us—Black, brown, and white, Jews and Palestinians, all of us, like my grandfather taught me, together.
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Thank you for sharing the proposed speech. I'm wondering when people will wake up to the reality that the Democratic party has been captured by AIPAC and the Israeli lobby. The only reason that no Palestinian voice could be heard is that the Israeli lobby crushes politicians who make even the smallest break with full, genocidal solidarity. You can't get or keep a job nowadays if you question Israel on even the smallest level. This has crushed speech and protest. We need to vote against politicians who have been bought and paid for by Israel, if we ever want to see a stop to the ethnic cleansing. It will take years to do this, but we need to start now.
I´m so disappointed with the DNC and I very much agree with you. Joy needs substance and I feel like we are in a hamster wheel of perpetual gaslighting. We have been under a democratic president these past 4 years and yet rights have been taken away, no headway at all in gun violence, and then the BILLIONS being sent to Israel to continue their horrific apartheid and genocide of the Palestinian people. I´m still ”Uncommitted”.