Solidarity in everyday life

In a world where noise takes precedence over silence, and visibility over value, it is perhaps a true miracle that solidarity still exists. Not the grandiose, media-exposed kind, but the small, unobtrusive solidarity found in the silence of everyday life.

It is that kind of kindness that is not broadcast, that does not seek gratitude, and that often goes unnoticed. And yet, it shapes our daily lives more deeply than any viral trend. It is the quiet hand that holds us while we think we are standing alone.

When Help Doesn't Come from the Headlines

There are many types of solidarity, but the noblest among them is the one that is not seen. Sociologists call it micro-solidarity: a collection of small, spontaneous gestures that connect people and strengthen the sense of community. These are the moments when someone shares a meal with a neighbor, watches a child while the parents work, borrows a book, or tries to understand someone’s silence.

In Bosnia and Herzegovina, where social wounds are still fresh, solidarity often appears in the form of quiet gestures: "Here, you don’t have to pay me back." In communities that have survived war, transition, unemployment, and the departure of youth, this type of reciprocity has become a form of resistance. It isn’t spectacular, but it is steadfast. It doesn't topple systems, but it survives them daily.

Humanity Without a Microphone

Psychologists would say that solidarity is a combination of empathy and social awareness—the ability to feel another's pain and react to it, not because we have to, but because we feel it. It is when someone offers their seat at a bus station. When a student shares their lunch with a classmate who forgot theirs. When an elderly woman at the market slips extra fruit into your bag and says, "It’s okay, child, this is from me."

These trifles seem insignificant, but psychological research shows that these very "micro-interactions" increase the sense of collective resilience. People living in communities where such gestures occur more frequently show lower levels of anxiety, greater trust in others, and a stronger belief in the meaning of communal life. In other words, solidarity heals—not just the receiver, but the giver as well.

Silence as a Space for Understanding

Solidarity does not need words. Sometimes, silence is a more powerful act of support than any advice. Every person who has ever sat next to someone grieving, without the need to say anything, knows this. The student who realizes a colleague is silent because they are struggling and simply asks if they want a coffee knows this. Silence is not emptiness; it is a space where empathy is born.

In a time where we live too fast to truly listen, listening becomes an act of solidarity. Hearing another without judgment means providing them space to be human. It is the first step toward healing a society that too often divides into "us" and "them."

A Sociological Perspective: A Society Surviving Through Whispers

Sociologist Robert Putnam writes in his research on social capital that societies with high levels of mutual trust are more resilient to crises. In societies like ours, where institutional trust is shaken, this informal solidarity—in the family, the neighborhood, the dorm, the volunteer group—becomes the pillar of survival.

In surveys conducted by researchers in BiH, respondents often stated that they "trust ordinary people the most." This is no accident. Our daily life may be difficult, but within it exists a weaving of relationships that connects us—a silent alliance of survival where people "have each other's backs." It is precisely this solidarity without microphones, slogans, or projects that keeps society alive.

Youth and Volunteer Solidarity

It is particularly important to mention the role of the youth. Although often described as "passive" or "uninterested," many young people in Bosnia and Herzegovina live out solidarity through volunteering and civic engagement. In student organizations, NGOs, foundations like Bosana, groups like BoHeMSA, LOLA, or local initiatives, thousands of young people start small revolutions in silence every year.

These are workshops with children in care homes, food drives, support for the elderly, and the organization of free education. These young people do not carry flags, but they carry change. Their solidarity is not declarative; it is living, practical, and empathetic. Sociologically speaking, they are the carriers of a new form of social responsibility—one that does not wait for the system but creates it from within.

Solidarity as Daily Practice

Sometimes we forget that solidarity doesn't always have to be help during great disasters. It can be a way of life: in the way we talk to others, in how patient we are, in how much space we leave for people to be who they are. These are acts that do not change the world, but they change the atmosphere within it. Psychologists say that people who practice small forms of solidarity daily have greater psychological resilience because they feel useful, connected, and purposeful. In other words, helping others helps us remain human.

Conclusion

We do not all have to change the world loudly. Sometimes it is enough to repair it with a whisper, through small, everyday acts of humanity. We may never know how much easier someone else's life became because of our smile, our patience, or our quiet presence. But that doesn't matter. What matters is that the world moves, millimeter by millimeter, thanks to those who refuse to give up on being human. Solidarity in the silence of everyday life does not seek an audience. It seeks awareness. It asks us to look at one another and, even without words, say: "I am here."

Written by: Ema Smriko

Year of Study: II (Second)

Faculty: Faculty of Medicine, University of Zenica