What would the actual decolonization of the "I" in ICA look like: Lessons from the contemporary global moment

In a world where geopolitical tensions simmer just beneath the surface of diplomatic niceties, moments of rupture expose the fragile scaffolding of global institutions. 

The ongoing crisis in Gaza, intertwined with the seismic shifts of the "Trumpian moment," has peeled back layers of deception in the so-called liberal international order. This revelation extends beyond politics into the realm of academia, particularly challenging bodies like the International Communication Association (ICA) to confront their embedded "I"—the illusion of true internationalism under North Atlantic, white, Western control. 

For decades, ICA has peddled Canadian-European-Australian white hegemony as the international of the ICA. This definition of international has kept power intact in the hands of North Atlantic European whiteness while making claims to beyond US-centrism. 

The hold of whiteness over the codes and terms of the international, very much reproducing the white supremacy of the international liberal order has meant that Global South, Indigenous, Black voices are subjected to intense gatekeeping, with the white core of the discipline determining what and who is the right kind of Global South to be included and/or represented. The right mix of diversity is carefully screened in to offer the appearance of diversification while keeping white power and control intact.

To advance decolonization, we must name these lies and hypocrisies unflinchingly and organize to dismantle the structures perpetuating them. This blog post delves into these interconnected themes, drawing on historical context, current events, and critical scholarship to argue for a radical reimagining of global discourse and academic practice.

The Trumpian Moment: A Catalyst for Systemic Exposure

The "Trumpian moment" isn't merely a footnote in American political history; it's a global inflection point that has accelerated the unraveling of post-World War II international norms. 

Coined to describe the rise of Donald Trump and his brand of populist authoritarianism, this era embodies a rejection of multilateralism in favor of unilateral "America First" policies. Trump's presidency, from 2017 to 2021, and his enduring influence—evident in his 2024 reelection campaign rhetoric—highlighted how the liberal international order (LIO) serves as a veneer for Western dominance rather than a genuine framework for equity.

Consider the LIO's foundational pillars: institutions like the United Nations, NATO, and the World Trade Organization, ostensibly designed to promote peace, security, and prosperity. Yet, Trump's tariffs on allies, withdrawal from the Paris Climate Accord, and disdain for the World Health Organization during the COVID-19 pandemic laid bare the order's selective enforcement. 

Critics from the Global South have long argued that these bodies prioritize Western interests, but the Trumpian bluster made it impossible to ignore. For instance, while the U.S. under Trump lambasted China's trade practices, it simultaneously undermined the WTO's dispute settlement mechanism, paralyzing an institution meant to level the playing field.This moment also amplified domestic fractures that resonate globally. 

Trump's narcissistic communication style—characterized by "alternative facts" and social media tirades—eroded trust in traditional media and expertise. In communication studies, this has sparked debates on post-truth politics, where emotional appeals trump empirical evidence. 

But beyond the U.S., the Trumpian ethos inspired similar figures worldwide, from Brazil's Jair Bolsonaro to Hungary's Viktor Orbán, fostering a network of illiberal democracies that challenge the LIO's moral authority.Defenders of this shift, however, see it as a corrective. From a right-wing perspective, Trumpism represents a "system change from the right," emphasizing nationalism and industrial revival for the working class over elite globalism. This view posits that the LIO's failures—endless wars, economic inequality, and cultural imposition—necessitated such disruption. 

Yet, this defense often glosses over how Trumpian policies exacerbated global inequalities, such as through immigration bans that disproportionately affected Muslim-majority countries, reinforcing Islamophobic narratives.In essence, the Trumpian moment didn't create the lies of the international order; it merely amplified them, making the hypocrisies undeniable. As we'll see, events in Gaza have further illuminated these cracks, showing how the order's rules apply unevenly based on geopolitical alliances.

Gaza as a Mirror: Exposing the Lies of the International Order

The conflict in Gaza, escalating dramatically since October 7, 2023, stands as a brutal testament to the international order's duplicity. Israel's military campaign, resulting in over 40,000 Palestinian deaths, the destruction of hospitals, schools, and entire neighborhoods, has been labeled by some as genocidal intent under investigation by the International Criminal Court (ICC). 

The International Court of Justice (ICJ) has affirmed Gaza and the West Bank's status as occupied Palestinian territory, ordering Israel to halt operations in Rafah and ensure humanitarian access.Yet, the response from Western powers reveals a glaring double standard. 

The U.S., a veto-wielding permanent member of the UN Security Council, has blocked multiple resolutions calling for ceasefires, while providing billions in military aid to Israel. Contrast this with the swift, unified sanctions against Russia following its 2022 invasion of Ukraine. 

Both conflicts involve civilian casualties and territorial disputes, but the West's empathy extends robustly to Ukraine—framed as a defense of European sovereignty—while Palestinian suffering is often contextualized as collateral in a "complex" security dilemma.

This selectivity isn't accidental; it's structural. The LIO, born from the ashes of colonialism and the Cold War, embeds Western exceptionalism. As scholars note, international law functions as a tool of hegemony, where violations by allies are excused through legal loopholes or reframed narratives. 

For example, Israel's post-2005 disengagement from Gaza is debated: some classify it as ending occupation, yet effective control via borders, airspace, and sea persists, making it an ongoing non-international armed conflict under humanitarian law.Global South nations have not stayed silent. South Africa's ICJ case accusing Israel of genocide draws parallels to apartheid, while Algeria's UN condemnations highlight Western complicity. These voices underscore how the order's "lies" alienate the majority world, eroding U.S. credibility in regions like Africa and Asia. 

In a post-Trumpian landscape, where multilateralism is already frayed, Gaza accelerates a multipolar shift toward alliances like BRICS, challenging the North Atlantic's grip.Moreover, the human cost in Gaza—displaced populations, famine risks, and cultural erasure—exposes the order's failure to uphold universal human rights. Over 240 journalists killed since October 2023, with minimal Western outrage, contrasts sharply with global solidarity for events like the Charlie Hebdo attacks. 

This disparity isn't just hypocrisy; it's a mechanism that sustains power imbalances, where some lives are deemed more grievable than others.

The Hypocrisies of White Liberalism: Selective Empathy in Action

White liberalism, often celebrated for its advocacy of civil rights and social justice, falters spectacularly on the international stage, particularly regarding Palestine. This ideology, rooted in Enlightenment values, professes universal equality but frequently excuses or ignores atrocities when they involve non-Western, non-white populations.

In the U.S., figures like Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer embody this tension. Schumer, a self-proclaimed liberal Zionist, champions domestic progressive causes yet supports policies enabling Israel's actions in Gaza, dismissing criticisms as antisemitic. 

This selective empathy manifests in media coverage: extensive reporting on Ukrainian refugees contrasts with muted stories of Palestinian displacement. Liberals decry Russian war crimes but offer justifications for Israeli strikes, framing them as self-defense against "terrorism," thereby racializing the conflict.At its core, this hypocrisy stems from a civilizational narrative where the West positions itself as the guardian of democracy against "barbaric" others. Gaza challenges this by highlighting settler-colonial parallels to historical injustices liberals ostensibly oppose, like Native American displacement or South African apartheid. 

Yet, many white liberals engage in performative solidarity—social media posts or petitions—that evaporate when confronting systemic complicity, such as U.S. tax dollars funding arms.Counterarguments from liberal defenders emphasize shared values: Israel's democracy and alliance against extremism justify support. Progressive movements, like the "Uncommitted" campaign in U.S. primaries, show internal pushback against Biden's Gaza policy. However, these efforts often remain marginal, failing to shift institutional power. 

The absence of a "Je Suis Gaza" movement equivalent to global outcries for other causes underscores how white liberalism's universalism is, in practice, parochial.This dynamic extends to academia, where liberal scholars advocate decolonization in theory but hesitate on Palestine, fearing professional repercussions. 

As we turn to the ICA, these hypocrisies become institutional, demanding confrontation for true progress.

Redefining the "I" in ICA: Decolonization as Dismantling

The International Communication Association (ICA), established in 1950 to foster global scholarship in communication, ironically exemplifies the very North Atlantic dominance it claims to transcend. 

With membership skewed toward U.S. and European institutions, ICA's "international" label masks a Western-centric canon that marginalizes Global South perspectives.

Recent initiatives signal awareness: The 2025 conference theme, "Disrupting and Consolidating Communication Research," invites Global South disruptions to dominant paradigms. An earlier call focuses on "Communication and Global Human Rights;" The current call turns toward communication inequalities, emphasizing inequalities and de-Westernization. 

Preconferences on decolonizing media, awards for decolonial work, and panels on decentering Euro-American frameworks represent steps forward.

Yet, on Gaza, ICA's response has been tepid. 

A 2025 statement condemned violence generically but avoided specifics on Israel's actions or Palestinian journalists' plight. 

Proposals for an anti-genocide resolution were rejected, with leadership opting to eliminate political statements to maintain "neutrality." 

This silence amid attacks on Gaza's educational infrastructure—universities bombed, scholars killed—betrays complicity in the hypocrisies critiqued above.

Decolonization demands more: naming lies, like how ICA's structures privilege English-language, Western-funded white research, and silences organizing to amplify marginalized voices. 

This involves much more than rethinking conferences (e.g., hosting in the Global South), diversifying leadership, and integrating indigenous epistemologies into curricula. Decolonization fundamentally calls for creating the opening for Indigenous and Global South voices amidst the violence of colonial expansion.

Critics warn politicization risks fragmentation, but the field is already fragmented, with Global South scholars underrepresented.

True decolonization links to broader struggles: Gaza's crisis mirrors how communication scholarship often ignores colonial legacies in media representation. 

By confronting white, Western control, ICA can evolve into a genuinely international body, fostering solidarity over silence.

Conclusion: Toward a Decolonized Future

The intersections of Gaza, the Trumpian moment, and white liberalism's hypocrisies compel us to dismantle the illusions sustaining global inequities. The international order's lies—selective justice, racialized empathy—are no longer tenable in a multipolar world. 

For ICA, this means redefining its "I" through active decolonization: naming complicities, organizing inclusively, and prioritizing Global South narratives.

This path is fraught—resistance from entrenched powers is inevitable—but essential. As scholars and activists, we must harness these revelations to build equitable structures. Only then can communication truly serve liberation, not domination.