Why the Opposition Is Missing - and Why We Still Provide It

Anyone who opens X today does not end up where they end up by chance. The homepage feels like a constant barrage of right-wing claims, sharpened misrepresentations, and the same recurring narrative patterns. Minneapolis is declared a supposedly lost city, demonstrators are rebranded as alleged forces of order, state violence is linguistically inverted. What stands out is not only the sheer volume of this content, but the emptiness alongside it. Hardly any opposition, hardly any contextualization, hardly any visible counter-speech. This raises a simple, uncomfortable question: If so many speak of democracy, why do so few act when it is under attack.

Right-wing trash without end, barely confronted, tolerated, hardly any resistance - German politicians too should ask themselves whether their laziness or their deliberate looking away will not have fatal consequences

Part of the answer, of course, lies in the way the platform itself functions. X rewards exaggeration, repetition, and outrage. Those who respond with facts disappear. Those who provide evidence reach fewer people than those who spread fear. This creates a quiet resignation. Many see the nonsense, scroll on, and think it is not worth engaging. That is exactly what this form of propaganda relies on. Added to this is a broader social shift. Opposition is quickly seen as exhausting, as conflict-driven, as something to be avoided. People want to show values, but please without confrontation. Democracy thus becomes a statement in a profile bio, not a practice. The result is a paradoxical calm: everyone is outraged, but almost no one speaks.

Another reason is convenience. Fact-based work takes time. Videos have to be watched, statements checked, sequences reconstructed. Right-wing agitation is faster. One sentence, one image, one alarm. Responding to that means being slower than the lie. Many leave it to others and do not realize that those others are becoming fewer and fewer. We take a different path. We enter the confrontation, directly, visibly, with evidence that anyone can examine. Not because we believe we can convert the loudest spreaders. That is an illusion. But because it is about those who are reading along. About those who are still uncertain. Anyone who sees opposition is not left alone with a claim. Anyone who reads context is harder to capture.

We know this is exhausting. We also know there will be pushback. But the alternative is silence. And silence creates space. Space for distortion, for fear, for simple enemy images. Democracy does not function through absence, but through participation. X is no longer a neutral place. It is a contested space. Anyone who leaves it to the loudest voices should not be surprised when they shape it. Our approach is not comfortable, but necessary. Confrontation with facts, public, verifiable. Not to win, but to draw lines.

The question of why there are so few of us can therefore be answered: fear of conflict, fatigue, false hope that someone else will take care of it. That is precisely why we continue. Not because we overestimate ourselves, but because looking away is guaranteed to prevent nothing.