Any discourse on human rights that falls short of its universality claims not only betrays its own raison d'être but also engages in a form of self-destruction. Much like an autoimmune disease, these internal attacks emerge unexpectedly, reemerge under stress and lead to systemic self-destruction. In other words, what makes human rights possible is also its weakest point. The issue with universality lies in the paradoxical nature of human rights themselves, rather than in the recurring instances of partial implementation.

Even though the foundational texts of human rights emphasize that these rights are universal, innate and inalienable – particularly in certain parts of the world – it has long been evident that the broad definition of "humanity" does not encompass everyone. It is ironic that the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (1948) was celebrated in Europe just after it had become clear that some people were considered not human enough to have rights. As German-American political theorist Hannah Arendt pointed out, it is all about having "the right to have rights," and those who possess this right are always fewer than "all."

This is why the notion that "human rights have never existed" has become more universally accepted than the concept of human rights itself. The chimerical speeches of domestic politicians on respecting human rights, along with the Messianic proclamations of so-called world powers, only foster distrust. The political exploitation, extensive abuse and ultimate ineffectiveness of human rights over the years have led to not just suspicion, but also fear and anger.

The well-known divide between the abstract, almost geometric conception of human rights and the concrete experiences, memories and losses of real human beings is closely tied to the paradox of defining humanity. The history of human rights shows how the scope of humanity has been gradually expanded and the definition of humanity pushed to its limits by including "new humans," such as people of color, women and those with physical and mental disabilities.

Nevertheless, from the famous prisons Guantanamo and Abu Ghraib to the ongoing dehumanization of asylum-seekers in Europe and the U.S., there is still an open wound – a cry that the concept of the "human" in human rights is being redefined legally, politically and militarily. While political and legal rhetoric may condemn "distinction of any kind, such as race, color, sex, language, religion, political or other opinion, national or social origin, property, birth or other status," institutions implicitly categorize humans and exclude certain groups from humanity based on unofficial but widely accepted criteria.

In the legendary '90s TV series "The X-Files," a poster behind the desk of FBI agent Fox Mulder reads, "I want to believe." This phrase encapsulates the tension between justice and law, the ideal and the real, and truth and lies in our lives. A human rights advocate killed in Gaza may want to believe in universal human rights to make it real. What they worked for was nothing but to close the gap between the ideal and the real. Believers do that. But the official and media discourses of human rights without humans, which function as apparatuses of justification for genocide through a brutal denial of humanity for the Gazan Palestinian people, do not deserve belief.