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# Resistance
- URL: https://cul-de-sac-1.ghost.io/resistance-doina-sandor/
- Published: 2026-10-08T21:02:15.000Z
- Updated: 2026-10-17T17:46:17.000Z
- Author: Cul-De-Sac
- Tags: Issue #4

By Doina Sandor

October 8, 2026

Two gigantic statues guard the entrances of some of the Buddhist temples in Japan. They are called the “Guardians of Truth”: Paradox and Confusion. I remember these imposing figures from my visit two years ago. Their size and dynamic stance (about to jump from—and out of—their pedestals) made them look like ancient monster-soldiers, defendants of the holy temples and the sacred tranquility that lay behind them. It was as if their purpose were to make me feel small and inspire awe (the same I feel when entering a church). At the same time, they seemed out of place, comical and pathetic–clownish—compared with the order and simplicity they were guarding.

The names of the figures these statues represented were revealed to me by a book titled *Buddhism Is Not What You Think* by Steve Hagen. Its key message is that the path to Truth (Truth being here a multitude of things:(self)understanding, (self)acceptance, (self)knowledge–everything we seek and strive for) is to overcome these conceptual beasts: Paradox and Confusion. They exist only because of our need for the world to make sense. That need contorts the complexity of our thoughts and feelings into neat abstractions.

Hagen’s book urges us to try to escape the anxiety imposed impulse to resist confusion through the arid simplifications of abstraction and to rewire our brain to identify conflictual situations and paradoxical states of being as potentially precious. Hagen argues that this disciplined shift in consciousness offers us the ability to act and to be present in the world in a way that is not suffocated or compromised by fear, prejudice, and expectation.

How is this connected to Resistance? I’ve seen myself and others dipping our toes in the unsettling waters of resistance. Our movements are tentative, but the desire to plunge is strong. Then, at the very last moment, a throng of monsters appears to frighten us from following the path we have just glimpsed opening up before us.

Ira Glass, in his radio program *This American Life*, tells his stories in in three vignettes that he calls “acts.” These are mine.

**Act 1:**

The magical and mystical Silk Road is peppered with oppression and resistance.

The prevailing regime dictates how to dress, how to think, how to feel. It intimidates defiance with public executions and with both overt and covert surveillance. It breeds a fear and distrust so deep in the psyche that the chador they choose for you is no longer their imposition but a self-constructed prison. At least this is what I feel on these dusty streets.

At first, I see only the black and grey of the streets of this great capital city. The segregation and sweaty heaviness of the garment are indescribable. Then my more-accustomed eyes see locks of hair casually escaping others’ headscarves. I see bright lipstick and dashing eyelashes, a bracelet glittering on an ankle, a smirky smile. My breathing becomes deeper and lighter witnessing these small rebellions. I taste the freedom of small gestures. But they are bitter-sweet because they are so fleeting. Someone is always looking.

![Exhibition wall reading Miwa Komatsu: Beyond the Eyes](https://storage.ghost.io/c/0f/fb/0ffb780d-0893-4716-b8e5-64f7a6ae13d8/content/images/2026/10/WhatsApp-Image-2026-10-14-at-8.13.09-PM.jpeg)

**Miwa Komatsu: Beyond the Eyes*

Away from peering eyes, on a mountain pass, we stop to admire the view. We are high up, no one is in sight. Another car stops. Young men and women get out, music blasting from their phones. They start to dance. All this is forbidden. The women take their veils down. Everyone holds hands and kisses. (forbidden). Everyone shouts and sings and feels so happy and free. We join in. But very quickly suspicions set in. Theirs, ours... We do not suspect each other, but what if someone sees me? What if a phone photo gets in the wrong hands? What if.... We all smile politely and quickly retreat to our cars. The freedom we have just given to ourselves has just been taken away, including through our own agency

**Act 2:**

Some of us (lucky and unlucky) work in corporations (public or private). Our well-being is getting defined through a very specific and narrow narrative of success (linked to progress and growth) disseminated through voices of men (it’s almost always men).

A typical situation is the following one: someone gets fired; someone gets blamed for a missed deadline; someone is skipped for promotion; someone gets bullied. Not because of their own fault or limitations. Simply, someone in power (“soft power” and “hard power” are being combined here) has made an arbitrary, unjust decision for any one or combination of a myriad of reasons (he is scared, jealous, tired, confused, malicious, incompetent).

All of us witness this injustice and inwardly agree we should do something. But what if we are the next victims of this abuse? What should we do? Send an angry email, complain to HR, quit? Do nothing because of our knowledge that anything we do will make absolutely no difference? And there is so much to lose: our jobs, our incomes, our sense of purpose, our beliefs in community.

I think employers love the idea of an ominous AI replacing the current workforce. Only then will they be free of workers with feelings, opinions, a sense of wrong and right. Only then will they no longer be haunted by the suppressed resistance of their subordinates’ willful, unpredictable, uncontrollable, subversive, and capricious actions and desires. I am often surprised at how very, very close I find myself thinking they are to really achieving this.

Our silence is so very loud.

![Two horned guardian sculptures, one white and one black, each covering its mouth with a paw](https://storage.ghost.io/c/0f/fb/0ffb780d-0893-4716-b8e5-64f7a6ae13d8/content/images/2026/10/WhatsApp-Image-2026-10-14-at-8.12.59-PM.jpeg)

**Don’t Speak Evil AP*, Miwa Komatsu, 2022 (FRP, acrylic, and gold leaf)

**Act 3:**

It’s a hot summer’s night in Zurich. The drought and high risk of fires has led to a ban on open fires. This is especially problematic as the national day is today, traditionally celebrated with barbecues and fireworks. We sit on our terrace watching the sky, thinking someone will probably defy the ban. Maybe some rich people who can pay the fine and need to exercise their right to do as they please; maybe some kids who need to show their friends how cool they are; maybe someone that didn’t read or hear the official safety announcements banning dangerous celebrations. We wait on the balcony with flags, lanterns, and prosecco. The only popping sound comes from awkwardly opened wine bottles.

Until a few minutes past midnight. The fireworks come from a neighborhood in the city known for its anarchist proclivities. This is the place where people are encouraged to pay with cash, in solidarity with immigrant and homeless people who do not have access to bank accounts and in defiance of the entire capitalist banking system with its untold powers of surveillance and control. The more secure residents of this neighborhood often organize protests in support of affordable housing and against far-right projects and pressures for immigration caps.

I am conflicted about the fireworks. Although they last only a few minutes and take place just after the specified time of the official ban has elapsed I find myself thinking they are reckless. What if they start a fire and endanger others? It’s hard to shake the image of firefighters sweltering in apocalyptic clouds of smoke from fires raging across Europe. Rules keep this place clean, safe, and legalistically fair. We all are treated in the same way. In Romania, those that break the rules have power and usurp agency from those who can’t afford to break the rules. I’m not speaking here just of politicians but of most well-connected wealthy individuals who consider themselves above the rule of law.

And at the same time, I greatly enjoy these fireworks. For 30 seconds, someone is disobeying: in a principled way—loudly.

When is resistance a necessary aspect of freedom? Should I attempt to suppress disobedience because it undermines the rule of law? Or should I disobey, intentionally and loudly so I and others don’t forget we have that power?

Maybe it all starts with a bit of lipstick in the presence of the demons guarding the temple.