Everything is Political
Thoughts on politics, oppression, justice, and the desire to be apolitical.
Can anything really be not political?
An event in town has inspired this inquiry. I hope you’ll join me in this pondering.
The event is a fundraiser dance connected to the ongoing trauma and violence in the region variously referred to as Palestine, Israel, occupied Palestine, “48”, and more. I realize as I write this that even the words one uses to refer to this region is, in itself, a political act.
Yet, ironically, the venue hosts require that the fundraiser remain “not political”. The absurdity of this is obvious to me, but apparently not to them.
I do understand the impulse to avoid divisive conversations about politics. Conflict is scary. Though avoiding conflict is not a way to avoid being engaged in politics. In fact, one's avoidance of the conflict is also a political act.
I’m reminded of the words of Martin Luther King Jr in his “Letter from Birmingham Jail”:
“I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro's great stumbling block in the stride toward freedom is not the White Citizens Councillor or the Ku Klux Klanner but the white moderate who is more devoted to order than to justice.”
MLK Jr’s words call to mind the words of Elie Weisel, a Jewish holocaust survivor:
“We must take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented. Sometimes we must interfere. When human lives are endangered, when human dignity is in jeopardy, national borders and sensitivities become irrelevant. Wherever men and women are persecuted because of their race, religion, or political views, that place must - at that moment - become the center of the universe.”
These words ring with particular poignancy now as many refuse to take sides in the present Israel-Palestine issue. Not taking a side is taking a side. In a battle for justice, there is no such thing as a conscientious objector.
Politics and Oppression
There was a time in this nation's history when many Americans owned slaves—a brutal and inhumane practice. The inhumanity of this is obvious to us now. We think of the emancipation of the slaves as a moral victory, not a political one. Though, how did they see it then? I wonder how the slaves would have felt about people who avoid talking about the morality of slave ownership because they don't want to be “too political” or to “avoid controversy.” I wonder how often this happened and how long slavery persisted because of that.
People might think this is an unfair comparison. Slave ownership is founded upon the notion that some people deserve more rights than others. That's morally wrong. The situation in Palestine is much more complicated, we're told. Is it?
As an American tourist traveling throughout the West Bank of Palestine, I could travel freely. By contrast, the citizens of Palestine—who had lived there their whole lives—had to pass through multiple military checkpoints every time they traveled from Ramallah to Hebron. While I could take a bus to the Mediterranean Sea for less than $5, I spoke to a man in his seventies who had never seen the sea himself—he wasn’t allowed to. As a tourist, I had more civil rights than the native inhabitants of that land.
This is why Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch, the United Nations, the US Department of State, and countless others have called out the State of Israel for violations of human rights for years. This is without even mentioning the genocide in Gaza that has been ongoing since October 7th.
Would I be allowed to say that openly at this fundraising event? Probably not. That would be “too political.”
Politics and Truth
I have spent a tremendous amount of energy over the past few months working on this issue. I've spoken in front of the city council. I’ve spoken to legislators at my state capital. I've participated in listening circles with people of different perspectives on the issue. I've had countless conversations with people of various viewpoints. I empathize and have compassion for all people for where they're at. Yet I must also be fierce. While all people's experiences and feelings are equally valid; not all actions are equally just. Not all opinions are equally founded. There is a genuine truth to the matter.
Some people consider climate change to be a political issue. I agree that there is a lot to talk about politically about how best to respond to the environmental devastation of the planet. Though 99% of climate scientists agree that climate change is happening and humans are the cause of it. There is a reality of the situation. Some people will be offended by simply naming that reality. Should I avoid saying this to avoid being too political?
Again, people may think this an unfair comparison. After all, the Israel-Palestine conflict has been going on for 1000s of years, right? No one knows who is right and wrong.
Even if that were true, that would be irrelevant to the situation on the ground now. I have spoken to many people who are uncomfortable with the “one-sided” nature of the story told by activists, human rights organizations, and many others. Yet every single person I know who has been to Palestine and seen the conditions there firsthand agrees that those people are being oppressed. One side, Israel, is oppressing the other side, the Palestinians. We don’t tell the story of slavery as two equal parties in conflict because that would be intellectually dishonest and deceptive.
Politics and Compassion
Now I must hasten to say here that I don't condemn the Israeli or Jewish people for this. This would be hypocritical of me to do as I live in a similar situation. I am a white, middle-class American. I have many privileges that are predicated on the genocide and colonization of the indigenous people of this land. Though, I must acknowledge that my privilege comes at the expense of others’ rights. If I cannot admit that, reconciliation is impossible.
I also want to acknowledge the role trauma plays in all of this. There is a fantastic book written by Resmaa Menakem called My Grandmother's Hands. This book is an unflinching and deeply compassionate book about the reality of intergenerational and racialized trauma. He explains how trauma is passed down through the generations and impacts how humans treat one another. He talks about race relations in the US—how white-bodied people and black-bodied people often experience stress in response to encountering one another. This is natural given the history of slavery; when the relationship between white and black folks was so violent and oppressive.
He goes even further back in time than this, exploring how slavery may have arisen in the United States. He compassionately tells the story of the European settlers of North America, explaining how many of them fled Europe due to religious or legal persecution. He also details the horrific realities of the Dark Ages, including public torture and executions that the citizens witnessed regularly. He talks about the immense trauma of the Bubonic Plague—the black death that killed maybe half the people in Europe.
All this is to say that the colonists who settled in North America were certainly not well. The unhealed trauma of their ancestors still lived in the bodies of these people—whether they knew it or not. Resmaa explains how it was that very trauma that the settlers and their descendants “blew through” the bodies of black and indigenous folks. Given that perspective, it makes sense why things happened the way they did. This doesn't excuse the horrific violence blown through the bodies of people who had nothing to do with the trauma these Europeans were carrying, but it does make sense.
I am tremendously grateful to Resmaa for explaining this important understanding (he is certainly not the only one who has). Though, again, the trauma of the European settlers did not excuse the oppression of black or indigenous folks (which continues to this day). Nor did it take the healing of this trauma for folks to take accountability and recognize that what was happening was morally wrong.
It may already be clear how this relates to the situation in Palestine.
The Founding of Israel
It was in 1947 that European Jews began to settle in Palestine. The holocaust had ended only years before. Combine that with the long history of oppression, persecution, and violence towards Jewish people and it's clear that everything Resmaa said about the European settlers is true for the Jewish people settling in Palestine—probably more. This is one of the most traumatized groups of people one could imagine by any standard.
The connection between the persecution of the Jewish people and the founding of Israel is actually astoundingly explicit. It's clear in Israeli propaganda as well as Zionist ideology in general. As the story goes: Israel is supposed to be the final safe haven for the Jewish people after thousands of years of persecution. For many Jews (and even some non-Jews), criticizing Israeli policies or suggesting that Israel is an oppressive state is likely to trigger that trauma. Some may perceive such criticism as anti-semitic. Some might assume that these criticisms imply that Jewish people don't deserve a safe place in the world. It's easy to see this rhetoric showing up all over the place in Israeli propaganda: Jewish trauma is used as a way to avoid accountability for the inherent violence of the Israeli occupation.
This is likely to offend some people and make others uncomfortable. Though I write this as a person of Jewish heritage myself as well as a professional trauma recovery coach. I come with deep compassion even with this fierce accountability. I write this, in fact, largely motivated by my desire to see the safety and healing of the Jewish people. However, reconciliation can only happen if accountability is fully present and there is a commitment to right the injustices that continue at this very moment. None of us are free until all of us are.
Let me make it personal: I have lashed out at loved ones who didn't deserve it. Always, this was because I was in deep pain and reactivity. Yet, it was up to me to take accountability to heal the relationship.
Indeed, many of the clients I work with undermine their healing process by trying to have compassion for those who violated them before having fully felt their pain and anger about it. Of course, it is important to have compassion for all people. And one must also have access to the primal anger that rises in response to violence, injustice, and violation. Only after that has been felt, named, and acknowledged are true forgiveness and compassion even possible.
What now?
I know many in the Jewish community who are feeling scared right now while the world collectively calls for justice in Palestine—holding Israel accountable. Their trauma is activated. Many of those people are upset with the Palestinian Solidarity movement for harming them. As lovingly as possible—triggering someone's trauma through fierce words is not harm. Denying equal rights to millions of people—as the Israeli occupation has been doing since 1948—is harm. This is the violence that must be stopped for healing and reconciliation to happen. I hope that more people engaged in Palestinian Solidarity activism can become more trauma-informed—thus welcoming more people into this all-important movement. Yet, this cannot come at the expense of naming the uncomfortable realities that the movement hopes to address.
To return to the dancing fundraiser, I imagine that the venue hosts want to keep things apolitical because they don't want to invite conflict and do want to be inclusive. Yet, the way they are going about this alienates the very people who most need our support right now. I have many friends who are personally connected to events in Palestine. Doubtless, none of them will feel welcome at this event. These are the same people who frequently call their senators, who wave signs in the streets, who gather and organize and educate in service to peace and justice in Palestine. They realize that the “conflict” between Palestinians and Israelis is political by nature. Israel uses their greater power to subjugate and oppress the Palestinian people. There is no solution to this problem that doesn’t address that.
To remain apolitical is to allow this situation to stand. To have remained apolitical while the Holocaust was carried out would have been to allow genocide to flourish.
There is a genocide happening right now. That genocide is happening in Gaza. If we are to do anything to protect those people—which is the most important thing to do if there is ever going to be lasting peace in the region—we must be political now. Otherwise, we leave “politics” to those who don't share our desire for peace and justice.
It is the right of every individual to choose to avoid talking about politics.
Though let us all be honest that to do so is a political act.
In order for me to write poetry that isn’t political
I must listen to the birds
and in order to hear the birds
the warplanes must be silent.
– Marwan Makhoul, Palestinian Poet-
Zionism started a few decades before the Holocaust, but its roots were in the general nationalist spirit of the era. Jews in Eastern Europe had a special place in society, enjoying several privileges that made them hated to the non-Jewish population - and dependent on local rulers, who would occasionally withhold protection and let non-Jewish peasants blow of steam and conduct pogroms. It was an ugly divide-and-rule dynamic in a society where nobody had any rights.
But in the 19th century, a gradual process of secularization and enlightenment took many Jews out of their ghettos and shtetls, and brought about thoughts about possible futures. Most Jews wanted to integrate in society and fought for equal rights, often as socialists, either integrated in general socialist parties or in separate Jewish socialist parties. Others embraced the nationalist separatist ideology that would soon become known as Zionism, and many combined the two and wanted to create a Jewish colony in Palestine of Jewish workers and farmers, people of a type very different from the type of Jews that their ancestors had been. Powerful, muscular, dominant. You could argue that this was due to trauma, but there is no reason to assume that they were more traumatized than Jews who chose different futures. Or than non-Jews, for that matter. Life in Eastern Europe had not been easy on anyone.
It was these Jews who created, dominated, and led the Zionist colonies in Palestine, but in the 1930s, many Jews from Western Europe, in particular from Germany, arrived as refugees. They were not ideology-driven. Around that time, Zionism started to reconceptualize itself as a safe haven for persecuted Jews, which is not to say that these refugees were well absorbed. They were despised as weak, pale, urban, and bourgeois.
I believe that it was in 1942 when a woman managed to escape from Eastern Europe and made it to Palestine, where she spoke at a meeting with the colony's leaders about what was happening to the Jews in what would soon be known as the Holocaust. She spoke in Yiddish, the language of the Jews in Eastern Europe, where most of the colony's leaders originated from, but they pretended not to understand her, and Ben Gurion famously mocked her for not speaking to them in Hebrew.
In the meantime, a general Jewish boycott and divestment movement against Nazi Germany was underway, but the Zionist leadership would have none of that, and instead entered into the so-called "transfer" agreement with the Nazis, who agreed to release part of the German-Jewish wealth to the Zionist leadership in return for purchases of German industrial output. This broke the momentum of the boycott, which faltered. When Holocaust survivors eventually made it to Palestine, they were met with great contempt as people who had allowed themselves be led like sheep to the slaughterhouse, instead of standing up for themselves. needless to say that they were never given any share in the wealth that was "transferred" from the Nazis to the Zionists, and most of them lived out their lives in poverty.
I really don't think that Zionism came out of trauma. Which is not to say, of course, that Israelis today are not extremely traumatized by what their recent history has inflicted on them, and by how they are taught to see this trauma as an extension of an age-old persecution. Not even Zionists themselves have always seen it that way.
Hey Tocayo,
Thank you for sharing this. The perspective about the trauma of genocidal European settlers in the Americas was not something that had occurred to me. That makes the trauma of the Jewish settlers in Palestine less unique.
But there is an important difference: European Jews developed a nationalist colonial ideology in the context of other European nationalist ideologies. They were not driven by trauma. In fact, they felt nothing but contempt for Holocaust victims, and considered them "losers". The weaponization of trauma started only a few decades later, when the original ideology no longer served as a justification of what Israel was inflicting on the indigenous population.
About the fundraiser: one of the recurring motifs in this Zionist chapter of the history of Palestine is that Palestinians are constantly asked to empathize with Israelis, reassure them that they have no intent to take revenge, that they are not inherently violent and that they're willing to condemn violent responses even when they themselves are violently oppressed and subjected to the most draconian policies, that they don't resent the Israelis as such but only the Israeli politicians, that of course they'll love to coexist with Israelis, that they won't insist on being treated like equal citizens all of a sudden but that they will be happy to postpone some of their rights, that they will suspend their right of self-determination, that they're willing to throw some of their fellow Palestinians under the bus in order to make Israelis more comfortable, etc. etc. The organization that this fundraiser is raising funds for is exactly the type of organization that asks such things of Palestinians. We cannot condemn the Palestinians who go along with that and believe that this will further their cause, but we ourselves should not get coopted. We have the privilege to refuse.