#I don’t know how blatant israel will have to be before some people realize they’re falling for lies
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Israelis singing together: we’re coming with our guns to kill those Amaleks, they have no water and electricity, those rats will not survive when we leave our homes to go to war, we want all those Blacks and Arabs dead (electric solo, disco lights)
Palestinians singing together: oh my homeland how you suffer, one day the bloodshed on your soil will stop, one day we will return to our home village, Palestine will be free again (sitting together in a space lit by phone lights)
#The difference between what is being sung by the Zionist and anti-Zionist communities is so stark#even the dammi falastini and veve palestina backgrounds on videos is so different to lyrics and plain racist yelling going around#like idk if the literal actions over the course of over 70 years wasn’t enough maybe this helps people differentiate#not that there’s anything wrong with chants encouraging violence or like war songs but.#it’s worth thinking about what the songs are *saying*#what the overall message in them are#because I’m seeing a lot of ‘killing civilians is what we do!’ in more or less literally those words#as if that is motivating. and then the brushing over the racism that can’t possibly be plain cultural linguistic misunderstandings.#Palestine#I don’t know how blatant israel will have to be before some people realize they’re falling for lies#but the more than cartoonishly shameful comparison of the Palestinian and Israeli perspective seems to help there#even the Palestinian resistance songs are like. we will get rid of the oppressors and plant olive trees#with like explosion footage playing#idk#something about praying for survival and singing about history surrounded by rubble and little else
52 notes
·
View notes
Link
Donald Trump remains blinded — willfully or not I cannot say — by his absurd narrative of America as an aggrieved nation. It’s a narrative that will stimulate the growth, rather than the diminution, of government power.
As he told this week’s national prayer breakfast, “We’re taken advantage of by every nation in the world virtually.” He repeated this claim several times at a later photo op at the White House. It of course was the dominant theme of his presidential campaign: the United States is the 99-pound weakling into whose eyes everyone kicks sand. The only way to stop this abuse, we were told, is to elect Donald Trump. Now that he has assumed power, he says, he will keep his promise and restore respect to the United States.
His opening days as president have been marked by Trump’s idea of getting tough with allies and adversaries and cracking down on would-be immigrants and refugees who happen to have been born in the wrong Muslim-majority countries.
At the prayer breakfast he pledged to fix the world: “The world is in trouble, but we can straighten it out, okay? That’s what I do — I fix things.” Straightening out the entire world hardly signals a radical rethinking of postwar U.S. foreign policy and a switch to something more modest for the sake of “America First” — quite the contrary. Even if Trump’s objective were possible, it would take a far more powerful, more militaristic, more intrusive, and more expensive government than the one we labor under at present. So would his aim to “eradicate [“radical Islamic terrorism] completely from the face of the Earth,” as he promised in his inaugural address.
But in fact the theme that unifies most of Trump’s policy positions is wrong: America is not the aggrieved party. It is not everyone’s chump. It’s the abuser and the bully. Trump either doesn’t know this or he does but realizes that no one ever won power by telling the public, “Elect me and we still stop victimizing the world.”
One can see Trump’s aggrieved-nation shtick in nearly everything he says. America, according to Trump, has been abused by Muslims, by trade partners (especially Mexico and China), by free-loading allies, and more. Weak leadership made this possible, he says. Strong leadership — the kind only he can provide — is the cure.
But in every case the story is the opposite of the one Trump tells. Violence against American noncombatants — unjustified as it is — has been a response to decades of direct and indirect U.S. government violence in the Middle East and elsewhere. Islamists from Osama bin Laden on down have said it. (They don’t say they hate us for our freedom.) Even American officials have acknowledged this, though they rarely say it outright in public. After World War I the Arab world (like others) hoped the United States would block the European colonial powers’ designs on the region. Instead the U.S. government acquiesced in England’s and France’s plans even as some Americans looked to supplant the old imperialist powers as the dominant force in the Middle East. In the ensuing years, Arab hope turned to ashes as America sided with corrupt autocrats, cynically used secular and religious elements as expedient, and backed Israel’s ethnic cleansing and land confiscation in Palestine.
Trump shows no signs of understanding the U.S. government’s century of provocation; on the contrary, he promises to double down on the so-called “war on terror,” pledging to those assembled at the prayer breakfast his war “may not be pretty for a little while…. All nations have a duty to work together to confront it [‘radical Islamic terrorism’] and to confront it viciously, if we have to.” The first special-forces operation on Trump’s watch just took place in Yemen, resulting in the deaths of women and children, including the eight-year-old daughter of Anwar al-Awlaki, the American citizen and cleric killed by a drone strike in Yemen ordered by President Obama, and sister of Abdulrahman al-Awlaki, an American teenager also killed by a drone strike in Yemen. (Needless to say, none of these victims were accorded due process.) Trump honored the one American military Navy SEAL killed in the badly planned operation, but did not acknowledge the deaths of noncombatants. Yemen, by the way, is where the U.S. government is helping Saudi Arabia wage a genocidal war, benefiting al-Qaeda in the process. Obama initiated the policy, but Trump has yet to mention, much less terminate, it. He’s not likely to do so because the Saudi targets, the Houthis, are said (erroneously) to be agents of Iran, which Trump has in his sights.
Trump would say, no doubt, that attacks on al-Qaeda and the Islamic State are justified, no matter how ferocious, because they intend to harm Americans. But since they intend to do harm to Americans because of what the U.S. government has done to their societies, this answer is invalid. Moreover, it is self-defeating because U.S. attacks, especially the deaths of noncombatants, will likely provoke further terrorism against Americans. Trump, who presents himself as an out-of-the-box thinker, has yet to question the establishment story and understand what Ron Paul pointed out in his 2008 campaign for the Republican presidential nomination: “They’re over here because we’re over there.” (Paul was referring to the 9/11 attacks. Since 2001 the few terrorist acts in the United States were committed by U.S. citizens said to be inspired by Islamist groups. Terrorists have not infiltrated the United States, although Trump would have you believe otherwise.)
As William T. Cavanaugh discusses in The Myth of Religious Violence: Secular Ideology and the Roots of Modern Conflict, blaming terrorism on Islam (even “radical Islam”) blinds Americans to the political roots of violence, specifically, U.S. neo-imperialism in the Middle East. How comforting it is to dismiss a large group of people as under the spell of a barbaric medieval religion rather than own up to the cruelty of one’s own government. Of course for Trump, evading the truth better fits the aggrieved-nation narrative.
Trump’s narrative is reinforced by Steve Bannon, perhaps his closest adviser. Bannon, whom Trump has named to the National Security Council, has often said that the West is in a war with Islam. USA Today reports that in a January 2016 interview, Bannon said, “To be brutally frank, I mean Christianity is dying in Europe, and Islam is on the rise.” The year before he said, “Some of these situations may get a little unpleasant. But you know what, we’re in a war. We’re clearly going into, I think, a major shooting war in the Middle East again.” (Also in 2016 he said, “We’re going to war in the South China Sea in five to 10 years, aren’t we? There’s no doubt about that.” Trump also has an animus toward China, which is bolstered by his top economic adviser, Peter Navarro.) Like his boss, Bannon’s got a thing for war. (Also see this.)
In Trump’s worldview, it’s not only terrorists who menace us. The foreigners with whom Americans trade also take advantage of America, especially but not limited to Mexico and China. But as has been said many times in response, trade yields expected net benefits to both parties or it does not take place. So Trump’s take on trade is based on a blatant fallacy. (Again, who knows if he really believes his own nonsense or if he says it because he knows few people understand even the most basic economics?) Suffice it to say that China and Mexico are not “raping” us, as Trump would have us believe. That he would equate voluntary transactions with rape should have won him only ridicule on day one of his campaign. That it did not speaks volumes. If anyone is harmed in bilateral and multilateral trade agreements it is the countries on which the U.S. government imposes draconian, unlibertarian intellectual-“property” restrictions that prevent indigenous competition with American corporations.
Even when Trump has a valid target — NATO — he gets the story wrong because he cannot let anything detract from his aggrieved-nation shtick. NATO is not a collection of countries enjoying U.S. protection while free-riding off American taxpayers. Rather, it’s a multilateral facade for unilateral American foreign military and political intervention, that is, a tool of the American empire. NATO, particularly its inclusion of former Soviet republics and allies, also has been key in provoking Russia, something Trump doesn’t mention. Again, America is not the aggrieved party. (See more here.) We should note also that Trump has backed off his criticism of NATO and that even if he withdrew, American military spending would not go down. Trump plans to increase the military budget.
Finally, immigration. Trump thinks that people who come to the United States (unless they’re the “right” kind of people) do us harm. This is belied by every study. Immigrants (whether or not they have government papers — a matter that should not concern libertarians) make society better in all sorts of ways. But that is not the ultimate justification for freedom of movement. The ultimate justification is the natural right of the people to move in search of better lives. Trump doesn’t know or care about that, so he’s sticking to his promise to build a wall near the Mexican border. While he’ll be violating the rights of individuals who wish to move to the United States, he’ll also violate the rights of American landowners along the border. Trump’s wall cannot be built without eminent domain (land theft), which he is long on record as favoring. He has tried to get government to take private land for his own enterprises, and he applauded the Supreme Court’s Kelo ruling, which said takings for private use were constitutional.
As one can see, Trump’s aggrieved-nation narrative is a call for more powerful government across a range of issues. Those who were hoping that Trump would make the state a smaller presence in our lives should now realize how wrong they were.
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Day School’s Toxicity and It’s Impending Failure_V1
I’m not the first person to ever fall victim to Jewish exclusivity. Time and time again you hear of stories of people’s traumatic experiences in Hebrew Day Schools and synagogues that drove them to not only exile themselves from the community, but to reject the religion entirely. If they’re lucky, they realize this in their childhood, while there’s time to beg their Imma’s and Abba’s to switch schools. But if you’re anything like me, you find yourself crying in your therapists’ office 6 years after the fact, wondering how your 8 year old self could be such a social pariah. The worst part of it all? You’re almost positive that since the community is built inside such an enormous bubble of elitism, money and stubborn politics, that no one is self-aware enough to account for the collateral damage. Which in this case was me.
In the six or something years following my graduation from the London Community Hebrew Day School, my opinions on it have stayed constant. My mind, body and soul have become virtually unrecognizable since then, but somehow I’m still stirring. As some form of micro-retribution, I have always jumped at the opportunity to declare the ‘Day School’ toxic. Maybe that isn’t making up for it anymore, because I think I can finally put to words just how toxic I believe it to be.
I have a distinct memory of a cold walk home from synagogue. I was trailing closely behind my father as the adults shuffled together like penguins, as they made their way south towards their igloos for Shabbat dinner. The topic of conversation was the day school, and a particularly significant member of the synagogue remarked, “the Day School is toxic”. Years later, I believe this to be true, but not for the reasons he was referring to.
Now, before I delve into my arguments that back my particularly rash claim, I would like to acknowledge fault. Is this the fault of many, or the fault of some? In many ways, this could be a tiny offshoot of a big river--big city Judaism. My experiences meeting Jews from different cities has led me to conclude that rich, white Jewish people live similarly no matter where they are. With so many people in the London Jewish community having come from big cities with big Jewish populations from all over the world, it’s entirely possible that they have brought elements of this exclusive, elitist world back to London. But, I am going to be placing blame on the hands of many adults, hard-working adults with respectable careers and paycheques to match. Theoretically, they are adults with free will, and the Torah’s teachings on their minds-adults who should ‘know better’. If there’s one thing I’ve learned since venturing a little further into the ‘real world’, on account of attending University, it’s that people never change. Social structures never change. High school, fundamentally lasts forever. I realized this for the first time on my last trip to Israel. Being the only teenager volunteering amongst a group of adults more than half my age, I was able to observe a sample of an adult ecosystem for three weeks, in the particularly obscure environment of an Israeli army base. Somehow, this group of about 15 adults of varying ages and varying places of origin, were able to stir up more drama than what had probably occurred at my high school in the time since I’d been gone. My point being: there will always be personality clashes and differing politics in any social environment, people just get their first taste in actual high school. I don’t think this situation with the Day School was any different. Just like in high school, everyone comes from different backgrounds, and has different life dynamics. Conflict will naturally occur, just as it did in high school, however, there is never any room to be a bully. But, in this case there was barely any room to be anything but.
As a consequence of being a small child throughout this, I am missing a lot of behind the scenes information. I only have what my growing mind could absorb and my nearly grown mind could reflect on. I am inevitably biased, but perhaps this bias is in my favour. I am a firm believer in individuality and the importance of celebrating difference. I have also always been one to scoff at people who claim themselves to be ‘colour blind’. Ignoring our differences only blinds us from the issues that have marginalized so many. I am a undeniably a person of colour-a visible minority. I have brown-ish skin, and kinky curly hair. I have an African American father and a Caucasian mother. This isn’t uncommon these days, nor is it particularly unique. At the London Community Hebrew Day School, my difference was made to be my handicap. It was never declared, I was never a victim of blatant racism, but my difference was made to be obvious. My difference in hue was so tangible that it is practically it’s own character in this story. The Day School is a poor example of diversity. At the time of my attending (2011-2007), everyone was white, predominantly upper middle class, of parents with similar visions for the Jewish community. In a world where representation of people of colour is particularly lacking or just plain incorrect, I could not see myself in the students I went to school with, or the people I learned from. Now, I don’t want to directly discredit my education. I will make the claim that the Day School supplied me with the best and the worst teachers I have ever had to date. With that being said, almost immediately upon my transfer into the Day School in the third grade, still only months fresh from French Immersion, the bullying started. It breaks my heart remembering how my mother innocently wished a Jewish education upon me. I remember her feel words as she described to people how I would be joining the Day School in the fall. Maybe too young to understand the feeling at the time, but I can’t help but interpret that feeling now as “this switch of schools would be the key to our acceptance”. We had been attending Shul regularly by this time, but somehow my small mind knew that acceptance was important and that we didn’t have it. On my first day I remember leaving frustrated, I think I may have cried. I walked past the old yellow bricks of that old yellow school, as my mom reassured me, “if you don’t like it, we’ll take you out”. How profoundly hurtful it must be to watch your child hurt.
The years of bullying all sort of blur together. The memories take the form of a montage, with quick flashes of erasers hitting ceiling fans, parent teacher interventions and gagging in the school yard. Perhaps I don’t remember all the things that were said, or the things that were done as a sort of self defence. I do however remember the way it all made me feel.
As years went by, expensive new schools were built and students came and went. The bullying between peers shifted to friendly teasing and the feeling of oppression shifted up the ladder. Suddenly, I felt less of a victim of classic childhood antics and more of a victim of the system.
You could argue that the real world doesn’t work like that, but this is the real world and yes it does.
But maybe I’m missing something fundamental here. Some capitalist driven mentality I can’t tap into. What do I know, I’m ‘just a kid’.
0 notes