Showing posts with label Gaza. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gaza. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 25, 2024

HENRY A. GIROUX AND BERTOLT BRECHT ON THE "LOOMING MENACE" OF FASCISM AND WHAT IT MEANS IN THE UNITED STATES AND THROUGHOUT THE WORLD AT THIS VERY MOMENT

“...At every level of domestic and foreign policy, the ghosts of fascism are evident, offering a glimpse of what horrors await us as the twenty-first century unfolds. At the level of foreign policy, blood gushes from the bombs, artillery, and tanks of rogue states in Gaza and Ukraine. Biden tells us that bringing diplomatic solutions to the dreadful warfare in Ukraine and the Middle East are less important than the profits and jobs created by death machines that constitute the defense industries feeding both wars. War culture and the language of hate fill the airwaves legitimating violence as a form of political opportunism. The cruel language and practices of human degradation and destructiveness now feed a growing fascist politics in the U.S. Fascist demagogues now boast about their racial fantasies, unchecked adoration of violence, and their aggressive lawlessness. What Ingmar Bergman once called “The Serpent’s Egg,” a metaphor for the birth of fascism is about to hatch.

In a world shaped increasingly by emerging authoritarianism, it has become increasingly difficult to remember what a purposeful and substantive democracy looks like, or for that matter, what the idea of democracy might suggest. Democracy as an ideal, promise, and working practice is under assault, just as a number of far-right educational, market, military, and religious fundamentalisms are gaining ascendancy in American society. Increasingly, it becomes more challenging to inhabit those public spheres where politics thrives—where thinking, speaking, and acting subjects engage and critically address the major forces and problems bearing down on their lives. In this new moment in history, which too often resembles the nightmares of a fascist past with its banning of books, erasing of history, attack on trans people, and support of white nationalism and supremacy, the question of how society should imagine itself or what its future might hold has become more demanding given the eradication of social formations that place an emphasis on truth, social justice, freedom, equality, and compassion.

Historical and social amnesia have become the organizing principles of U.S. society. Lies morph into the celebration of violence and language become part of the machinery of social death, relegated to the sphere of consumer culture, and devoid of an ethical grammar that is banished to zones of political and social abandonment.

Subjectivity, identity formation, and the longing for community have become powerful elements of a politics of aggression. An ocular—image-based culture celebrates human misery, turns monsters into political celebrities who preach a language that accelerates the death of the unwanted, powerless, and what Judith Butler calls the ungrievable. The mainstream media normalizes alleged leaders in the fields of politics, entertainment, and education who thrive on the energies of the dead, weak, and disposable. Yet, what is often missed is the spread of fascist ideology, fear, rhetoric, symbols, and demonstrations that circulate in lesser political circles and at the level of everyday life in the United States. All of which speaks to how deeply embedded authoritarianism, violence, and the mobilizing passions of fascism are in American society and culture. Three recent examples speak to the dark current of fascist politics in the United States…As Bergman noted in a previous era, the abyss of fascism “looms menacingly.” Bergman’s words resonate with a fascist politics that now draws on the culture of everyday life and in doing so spreads its ideologies, values, social relations, and culture of cruelty in institutions, practices, policies, and experiences of domination that take on the hue of being commonplace, wrapped in the discourse of freedom, victimhood, gated mentalities and gated borders.

For the playwright and poet, Bertolt Brecht, “the serpent’s egg” suggests that beneath seemingly democratic societies lie dark, dangerous and volatile forces waiting to be unleashed by the dynamics of capitalism. For Brecht, no one can tell the truth about fascism without speaking out against the horrors of capitalism. The horrors of fascism lurk in the shadows of everyday life, and as Brecht observes “If anyone wishes to describe Fascism and war, great disasters which are not natural catastrophes, he must do so in terms of a practical truth. He must… write the truth about evil conditions, one must write it so that its avertible causes can be identified. If the preventable causes can be identified, the evil conditions can be fought.”[8]

Writing about the truth must begin by recognizing how the snake of fascism lays its eggs—the serpent’s eggs, which are often hatched in the limelight of the spectacularized image of ocular politics where their impending danger is overlooked. The challenge is to acknowledge how the seeds of fascism emerge in the shadows of everyday speech, practices, and social relations. The microaggressions of fascism are too often treated as if they reside solely in the theatricality of the overly dramatic, the exaggerated spectacle, or in the realm of self-serving attention-gripping mass hysteria. What is overlooked is the power of everyday practices in their overly stylized and calculating shock value, which slowly become normalized and accelerated, legitimized and expanded making the efficacy of the unspeakable a core element of everyday life. What is often dismissed as a minor public spectacle morphs into the horror of absolute evil in a world led by barbarians. In the current historical period, the eggs of the serpent are about to hatch keeping alive both its threat to end democracy, renew the legacy of colonialism, and once again let loose the politics of disposability, elimination, and death. Susan Sontag was right in her insistence on the need “to detect fascist longings in our midst.” Fascism now mobilizes people’s feelings in order to win them over either to the arena of hate and bigotry or to depoliticize them. Once we lose sight of how the dynamics of power hide in the language of the everyday. Fascism will arrive not with a thunderous bang but with the waving of the flag and the stench of death. The serpent’s egg will have hatched, and the lights will go out.”
—Henry A. Giroux, “Everyday Fascism: Brecht’s Warning About the Serpent’s Egg”, Counterpunch, March 13, 2024

 

HENRY A. GIROUX (b. September 18, 1943)

BERTOLT BRECHT  (1898-1956)

 

Photograph Source: Abhisek Sarda – CC BY 2.0
 

And therefore think him as a serpent’s egg
Which hatch’d, would as his kind grow mischievous; 

And kill him in the shell”
– Brutus in Shakespeare’s 'Julius Caesar'


The brilliant scholar, Paul Gilroy, once stated that we live at a time when the “horrors of the past are much closer to us than we like to imagine.” [1] Gilroy’s words are more resonant today than they were when first written. At every level of domestic and foreign policy, the ghosts of fascism are evident, offering a glimpse of what horrors await us as the twenty-first century unfolds. At the level of foreign policy, blood gushes from the bombs, artillery, and tanks of rogue states in Gaza and Ukraine. Biden tells us that bringing diplomatic solutions to the dreadful warfare in Ukraine and the Middle East are less important than the profits and jobs created by death machines that constitute the defense industries feeding both wars. War culture and the language of hate fill the airwaves legitimating violence as a form of political opportunism. The cruel language and practices of human degradation and destructiveness now feed a growing fascist politics in the U.S. Fascist demagogues now boast about their racial fantasies, unchecked adoration of violence, and their aggressive lawlessness. What Ingmar Bergman once called “The Serpent’s Egg,” a metaphor for the birth of fascism is about to hatch.

In a world shaped increasingly by emerging authoritarianism, it has become increasingly difficult to remember what a purposeful and substantive democracy looks like, or for that matter, what the idea of democracy might suggest. Democracy as an ideal, promise, and working practice is under assault, just as a number of far-right educational, market, military, and religious fundamentalisms are gaining ascendancy in American society. Increasingly, it becomes more challenging to inhabit those public spheres where politics thrives—where thinking, speaking, and acting subjects engage and critically address the major forces and problems bearing down on their lives. In this new moment in history, which too often resembles the nightmares of a fascist past with its banning of books, erasing of history, attack on trans people, and support of white nationalism and supremacy, the question of how society should imagine itself or what its future might hold has become more demanding given the eradication of social formations that place an emphasis on truth, social justice, freedom, equality, and compassion.

Historical and social amnesia have become the organizing principles of U.S. society. Lies morph into the celebration of violence and language become part of the machinery of social death, relegated to the sphere of consumer culture, and devoid of an ethical grammar that is banished to zones of political and social abandonment.

Subjectivity, identity formation, and the longing for community have become powerful elements of a politics of aggression. An ocular—image-based culture celebrates human misery, turns monsters into political celebrities who preach a language that accelerates the death of the unwanted, powerless, and what Judith Butler calls the ungrievable. The mainstream media normalizes alleged leaders in the fields of politics, entertainment, and education who thrive on the energies of the dead, weak, and disposable. Yet, what is often missed is the spread of fascist ideology, fear, rhetoric, symbols, and demonstrations that circulate in lesser political circles and at the level of everyday life in the United States. All of which speaks to how deeply embedded authoritarianism, violence, and the mobilizing passions of fascism are in American society and culture. Three recent examples speak to the dark current of fascist politics in the United States.

First, I want to highlight the words of right-wing activist Jack Posobiec who in “his welcome speech at this year’s conference of the Conservative Political Action Conference (CPAC,) stated: “Welcome to the end of democracy. We are here to overthrow it completely. We didn’t get all the way there on January 6, but we will endeavor to get rid of it and replace it with this right here.” He then held up a cross necklace and continued: “After we burn that swamp to the ground, we will establish the new American republic on its ashes, and our first order of business will be righteous retribution for those who betrayed America.”[2] This is fascism on steroids and yet it got little media coverage and when it did it was dismissed as a kind of rogue extremism. In actuality, it simply echoes a central ideology of MAGA Republicans.

Another example of how the embers of fascist politics have turned into a firestorm of authoritarian rhetoric and is downplayed or ignored in the mainstream media is visible in the ongoing rhetoric of the ignorant buffoon Mark Robinson who is running for the governorship of North Carolina. In the mainstream media, despite his extremist rhetoric, he is treated as a normal candidate even though he has referred to transgender and homosexual people as maggots and filth, stating that they “are equivalent to what the cows leave behind”[3] After a mass shooter in 2016 murdered 49 people at a gay nightclub in Orlando, Florida, Robinson posted on Facebook “I would pray for the souls of all those killed…However, homosexuality is STILL an abominable sin and I WILL NOT join in celebrating gay pride.” He has stated that he wished for the days when women could not vote and called mass shootings “karma” for abortion. He has said that Christians must take control of public schools because children are being abused by teachers who are telling children “about transgenderism, homosexuality, and any of that filth.”[4] Robinson’s remarks make clear that willful ignorance is a precondition for fascist politics, and that a culture of cruelty and hate has become a normalized tool of political opportunism.

The third example draws upon the current authoritarian assault on higher education which is far worse than anything that could have been imagined with the election of Ronald Reagan in 1980. In light of this assault, how could the media largely ignore New College in Florida hiring Bruce Gilley, who has authored a book called The Case for Colonialism. Beyond the racist affirmation in book form supporting the genocidal legacy of colonialism, he has also stated publicly that “the transgender flag [is] a symbol of narcissistic sexual reductionism and the mutilation of children,” and that “virtually every indigenous leader in Canada is an identity fraud.” [5] Without any critical understanding of history, he has endorsed a video by the Blackwater mercenary company founder Erik Prince calling for putting “the imperial hat back on” to govern “pretty much all of Africa.”[6] There is more at work here than the hiring of a far-right colonialist parading as a professor, there is a clarion call alerting to how higher education is being transformed into indoctrination centers and rabid disimagination machines. James Baldwin was certainly right in issuing the stern warning in No Name in the Street that “Ignorance, allied with power, is the most ferocious enemy justice can have.”[7]

These events closely resemble Bergman’s notion of “The Serpent’s Egg,” an instructive metaphor for illuminating the conditions that gave rise to fascism. As Bergman noted in a previous era, the abyss of fascism “looms menacingly.” Bergman’s words resonate with a fascist politics that now draws on the culture of everyday life and in doing so spreads its ideologies, values, social relations, and culture of cruelty in institutions, practices, policies, and experiences of domination that take on the hue of being commonplace, wrapped in the discourse of freedom, victimhood, gated mentalities and gated borders.

For the playwright and poet, Bertolt Brecht, “the serpent’s egg” suggests that beneath seemingly democratic societies lie dark, dangerous and volatile forces waiting to be unleashed by the dynamics of capitalism. For Brecht, no one can tell the truth about fascism without speaking out against the horrors of capitalism. The horrors of fascism lurk in the shadows of everyday life, and as Brecht observes “If anyone wishes to describe Fascism and war, great disasters which are not natural catastrophes, he must do so in terms of a practical truth. He must… write the truth about evil conditions, one must write it so that its avertible causes can be identified. If the preventable causes can be identified, the evil conditions can be fought.”[8]

Writing about the truth must begin by recognizing how the snake of fascism lays its eggs—the serpent’s eggs, which are often hatched in the limelight of the spectacularized image of ocular politics where their impending danger is overlooked. The challenge is to acknowledge how the seeds of fascism emerge in the shadows of everyday speech, practices, and social relations. The microaggressions of fascism are too often treated as if they reside solely in the theatricality of the overly dramatic, the exaggerated spectacle, or in the realm of self-serving attention-gripping mass hysteria. What is overlooked is the power of everyday practices in their overly stylized and calculating shock value, which slowly become normalized and accelerated, legitimized and expanded making the efficacy of the unspeakable a core element of everyday life. What is often dismissed as a minor public spectacle morphs into the horror of absolute evil in a world led by barbarians. In the current historical period, the eggs of the serpent are about to hatch keeping alive both its threat to end democracy, renew the legacy of colonialism, and once again let loose the politics of disposability, elimination, and death. Susan Sontag was right in her insistence on the need “to detect fascist longings in our midst.” Fascism now mobilizes people’s feelings in order to win them over either to the arena of hate and bigotry or to depoliticize them. Once we lose sight of how the dynamics of power hide in the language of the everyday. Fascism will arrive not with a thunderous bang but with the waving of the flag and the stench of death. The serpent’s egg will have hatched, and the lights will go out.

Notes:

[1] Paul Gilroy, “The 2019 Holberg Lecture, by Laureate Paul Gilroy: Never Again: refusing race and salvaging the human,” Holbergprisen, [November 11, 2019]. Online: https://holbergprisen.no/en/news/holberg-prize/2019-holberg-lecture-laureate-paul-gilroy

[2] Ben Goggin, “Calls to ‘fight’ and echoes of Jan. 6 embraced by CPAC attendees,” NBC News (February 23, 2024). Online: https://www.nbcnews.com/politics/2024-election/jack-posobiec-jan-6-2024-cpac-rcna140225

[3] Kira Lerner, “Hitler-quoting candidate wins North Carolina Republican gubernatorial primary,” The Guardian(March 6, 2024). Online: https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2024/mar/05/mark-robinson-north-carolina

[4] See: Pic.twitter.com/aXjCPFKTs0

[5] Ryan Quinn, “New College of Florida Hires Professor Who Champions Colonialism,” Inside Higher Education(March 8, 2024). 
https://www.insidehighered.com/news/faculty-issues/academic-freedom/2024/03/08/new-college-florida-hires-scholar-who-defends

[6] Ibid. Ryan Quinn.

[7] Toni Morrison, ed. James Baldwin, Collected Essays: No Name in the Street (New York: Library of America, 1998), p. 437.

[8] Bertol Brecht, “Writing the Truth-Five difficulties,” Revolutionary Socialism.com (March 2015, 1935). Online: https://revolutionary-socialism.com/en/writing-the-truth-five-difficulties/
 
 
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: 
 

Henry A. Giroux currently holds the McMaster University Chair for Scholarship in the Public Interest in the English and Cultural Studies Department in Hamilton, Ontario Canada and is the Paulo Freire Distinguished Scholar in Critical Pedagogy. His most recent books include: The Terror of the Unforeseen (Los Angeles Review of books, 2019), On Critical Pedagogy, 2nd edition (Bloomsbury, 2020); Race, Politics, and Pandemic Pedagogy: Education in a Time of Crisis (Bloomsbury 2021); Pedagogy of Resistance: Against Manufactured Ignorance (Bloomsbury 2022) and Insurrections: Education in the Age of Counter-Revolutionary Politics (Bloomsbury, 2023), and coauthored with Anthony DiMaggio, Fascism on Trial: Education and the Possibility of Democracy (Bloomsbury, 2025). Giroux is also a member of Truthout’s board of directors.


Monday, June 10, 2024

The Real Risks, Costs, Demands, and Consequences of the Genocidal War in Gaza and Its Actual Ongoing and Deadly Impact on American Politics and Civil Society Writ Large in the Upcoming Presidential Election

https://truthout.org/articles/biden-wants-to-enable-genocide-we-must-make-it-impossible-for-him-to-continue/


Op-Ed
War & Peace

Biden Wants to Enable Genocide. We Must Make It Impossible for Him to Continue.

Palestinian genocide comes at a devastating human cost. What will supporting it cost Biden politically?

by Khury Petersen-Smith
June 8, 2024
Truthout

Today, activists from around the country are mobilizing in Washington, D.C. to surround the White House to demand an end to Israel’s onslaught on Gaza and President Joe Biden’s support for it. Palestinians are paying an incalculable price for U.S. policy. But there is a set of costs of a different nature that the U.S. is incurring by supporting the genocide — and a strategy aimed at raising those costs can make it so great that Biden has to stop.

One cost is global. From upsetting relations between Israel and its neighbors to repeated condemnations of genocide at the UN Security Council, General Assembly, International Court of Justice and International Criminal Court, Israel and the U.S. are more isolated on the world stage than ever.

But a more immediate cost for Biden is in U.S. politics.

U.S. support for Israel has long been treated in the United States as a “domestic issue” — with AIPAC, the Anti-Defamation League, and other pro-Israel groups intervening heavily to shape federal policy, local politics and all levels in between. The conventional thinking is that insufficient support for Israel can result in a lost election — whereas the fate of Palestinians and their rights are marginalized to the realm of “foreign policy,” when discussed at all.

Since Israel invaded Gaza last October, that understanding has radically shifted: The rights of Palestinians have emerged as a “domestic issue” in their own right — with city councils across the country passing resolutions calling for a ceasefire, workers at corporations like Google demanding an end to their employers’ complicity in genocide and a student revolt against U.S. academia’s role in buttressing it.

RELATED STORY:
 
The movements for labor and Palestinian rights have common cause against the billionaires who aim to destroy them both.
Truthout


The move of Palestinian rights from the margins of U.S. politics to its center is even raising the prospect of the incumbent president losing the November election because of his insistence on supplying the weapons to fuel Israel’s siege. Activists and voters in Michigan, Wisconsin, and elsewhere have made this likelihood dramatically visible with their “Uncommitted” and “Uninstructed” campaigns.

If Biden loses in November to an open fascist, it will likely be because he repulsed young people, progressives and people of color with his support for Israel. These are the people who he needs not only to vote for him, but to mobilize the vote for him. As the remarkable campus rebellions of this spring showed, they’re also the voters most likely to be demanding a ceasefire in Gaza.

By maintaining his support for Israel, Biden risks not just losing an election but a generation — one that does not seem willing to quietly accept the unacceptable. The question is: Is that enough to force Biden to change course? And if not, what will?
 
Why We Have Not Yet Won a Ceasefire

The difficult reality is that the movement demanding ceasefire is up against the hard core of U.S. imperial power, which sees support for Israel as central to its strategy in the Middle East — at apparently any cost, particularly that of Palestinian life. This is especially true for President Biden, whose personal investment in Israel appears to go beyond the requisite required for any steward of U.S. power.

In addition, there is a pillar buttressing that commitment that is unique to the U.S.-Israel relationship: a powerful pro-Israel lobby.

This includes a formal lobbying operation — led by AIPAC and other Washington-based firms — and a large, well-organized, well-funded and very dedicated constituency in communities across the country. Organizations like StandWithUs and the associated Israel on Campus Coalition target Palestinian rights activists on college campuses, accusing them of antisemitism and calling on universities to restrict free speech on campus.

While pro-Israel Jewish organizations play a key role, Christian Zionism is an increasingly dominant force in mobilizing fanatical support for Israel. Coordinated by organizations like Christians United for Israel, Christian Zionism combines right-wing Christian nationalism with an apocalyptic vision for the Middle East. Activists against U.S. support for Apartheid South Africa did not have to contend with a mass organizing force on the other side like this.

The fate of Palestinians and their rights are marginalized to the realm of “foreign policy,” when discussed at all.

Activists are also facing a White House that has greater power to pursue militarism than at other points in U.S. history. After more than two decades of the “war on terror,” the executive branch wields tremendous power to act unchecked. Even with growing opposition in Congress for Biden’s unflinching supply of weapons to Israel, the White House is able to press ahead. This is because Biden has used tricks — like invoking “emergency authority,” and making more than 100 sales that fall under the threshold amount that requires congressional approval — to feed the Israeli arsenal.

Meanwhile, the White House is going to great lengths to insulate the president and Vice President Kamala Harris from the ubiquitous protests, arranging campaign events that are closed to the public, smaller and whose attendees are highly vetted.

What should activists do then, in the face of a president who refuses to stop supplying the weapons for a genocide — even when it could cost him his reelection?
 
What to Do in the U.S.?

Over these eight months, activists have sought to identify any levers of power to pull that would stop Biden’s policy. This has included winning over dozens of members of Congress to demand a ceasefire. It has involved passing ceasefire resolutions in dozens of city and town councils. The movement successfully demonstrated its power to withhold votes in states that Biden needs to win in November. Recent polls show that, in these states, one in five voters say that they are less likely to vote for Biden because of his support of Israel’s assault.

The Palestine solidarity movement mobilized the largest march for Palestinian rights in U.S. history on November 4 in Washington, D.C. It has helped elevate Palestinian voices in the mainstream media conversation, and has featured vocal Jewish organizing for a ceasefire as one counter to the false notion that supporting Palestinian rights is antisemitic.

It has turned campuses — from the most public to the most elite — into sites of mobilization for Palestinian rights. It has compelled staffers in Congress and the White House itself to protest, and the resignation of State Department officials and others. Key institutions and individuals in Biden’s inner circle have urged him to push for a ceasefire, from the influential think tank the Center for American Progress to the president’s own wife.

The fact that no one of these breakthroughs has in itself forced a ceasefire does not mean that they are all useless. In many cases, the work that produced them should continue. But we also need more, because it is evident that no one of these things is the key to unlocking a halt to U.S. weapons and other support to Israel.

The challenge then is not to find the one thing that will force Biden to shift course, but to carry out a combination of things that undermine his ability to pursue his policy and make it as politically costly and as difficult as possible, until it is impossible.
 
Raising the Political Costs

It is clear that we need to expand actions that disrupt the ability of the U.S. to support the Israeli genocide, both politically and physically. But there is an important catch: One of the great strengths of the outpouring of protest in defense of Palestinian life has been how accessible it has been to the U.S. public. The starkness of Israel’s violence — and genocidal rhetoric of its leaders — along with the self-evident virtue of the ceasefire demand have allowed hundreds of thousands to join the movement.

Because the risk of arrest and police violence that comes with more confrontational actions tends to limit the range of participants, a challenge for organizers will be escalating disruption while continuing to invite broad numbers of people with a range of abilities and vulnerabilities to continue to participate. We therefore need to be as strategic as possible.

One area of focus should be disrupting the flow of U.S. weapons to Israel. With weapons manufacturing taking place across the country, the machinery of producing and supplying arms requires a combination of ignorance and consent to those processes by the U.S. population. But what if our communities learn about their entanglement with the flow of weapons, and replace that “consent” with resistance?

If the cost of Palestinian life is not sufficient to compel Biden to stop supporting a genocide, then it is the responsibility of the movement … to exact a greater cost by raising the political price.

How many cities and towns that have passed ceasefire resolutions host factories that make bombs — and even provide tax breaks to those companies? How many such cities and towns have roads passing through that transport weapons, or ports that ship them to Israel? What if, through a combination of nonviolent direct action, and cities being compelled by public pressure to pass ordinances against their complicity in genocide, the federal government could no longer count on our communities allowing weapons to flow from and through them?

And what if workers involved in the making or transport of these weapons supported the protests — as union longshore workers have at the Port of Oakland, refusing to unload cargo from an Israeli ship?

Activists can also undermine economic support for Israeli violence. Carrying out this genocide in Gaza comes at a great cost to the Israeli economy. Hundreds of thousands of Israeli reservists have been mobilized, taking them away from their jobs. Palestinian workers have been expelled from the agricultural sector and others. With the Israeli economy dependent on 120,000 Palestinian workers before October 7 and many of their work permits canceled since, farmers and volunteers scrambled to harvest produce and plant crops in the fall and construction projects are down 50 percent. And Moody’s has downgraded Israel’s credit rating.

The Israeli economy, in short, is vulnerable.

Unlike other countries, Israel crowdsources the financing of its economy, relying on institutions and individuals in North America to invest in Israeli companies and in the state of Israel through selling Israel bonds. Israel makes the case that such investment will offer a good financial return, and appeals to investors that such support is a political contribution to the Israeli project.

This explains why 35 U.S. state and municipal governments — most of them headed by Trump-aligned Republicans — have collectively bought more than $1.7 billion in Israel bonds since October. Additionally, American capitalists have rallied to support the Israeli economy. Bain Capital organized a trip to Israel in December for a delegation of 70 tech executives and investors, who met with Israeli leaders as well as local investors and startups.

Venture capitalists and far right state governments aren’t likely to change their positions, but there may be more vulnerable targets. We can demand that states run by liberal Democrats with investments in Israel cease, and brand-conscious banks should be made to see investing in Israel as a liability, just as they were pressured to stop propping up Apartheid South Africa years ago.

While divestment campaigns can take years, enough disruption and negative attention can lead to more immediate, further downgrades of Israel’s credit rating by institutions like Moody’s. The world of stocks and bonds markets is volatile, and Israel’s utter dependence on outside finance makes it vulnerable to big shocks, even if they come well short of full divestments.
 
Making Genocide Too Costly for a Government That Doesn’t Value Life

Twenty-eight years ago, the United States carried out another policy in the Middle East that brought catastrophic suffering: its economic sanctions against Iraq. In an interview with “60 Minutes” in May 1996, journalist Leslie Stahl said to then-Secretary of State Madeleine Albright: “We have heard that half a million children have died. I mean, that’s more children than died in Hiroshima. And, you know, is the price worth it?”

Albright responded, “We think the price is worth it.”

The horrific history is a reminder that Biden’s support of Israel today comes in a context: Washington makes foreign policy decisions in which officials are quite aware of the suffering of those on the receiving end of their actions. The problem is that, in the dehumanizing and racist world of Washington’s geopolitics, the lives of Iraqis or Palestinians — or the Japanese victims of the atomic bombings that Stahl mentions, for that matter — do not carry much weight in their calculations.

If the cost of Palestinian life is not sufficient to compel Biden to stop supporting a genocide, then it is the responsibility of the movement against it — and for U.S. civil society — to exact a greater cost by raising the political price. We must make carrying out this genocide so difficult, and its price so politically expensive, that Washington cannot afford it




ABOUT THE AUTHOR:


Khury Petersen-Smith is the Michael Ratner Middle East Fellow at the Institute for Policy Studies.

Saturday, June 1, 2024

Journalist, Scholar, Activist, Public Intellectual, and Teacher Dr. Steven Thrasher On How and Why We Are All Being Lied To By Politicians, Corporate Media, and University Administrators About Pro-Palestinian Protests on College campuses throughout the Country and the Dire Reality of the Ongoing Genocide In Gaza Directly Aided, Funded, and Abetted by the Biden Administration and the American Congress

https://lithub.com/you-are-being-lied-to-about-gaza-solidarity-camps-by-university-presidents-mainstream-media-and-politicians/


You Are Being Lied to About Gaza Solidarity Camps by University Presidents, Mainstream Media, and Politicians

What Steven W. Thrasher Saw on College Campuses

by Steven W. Thrasher
May 10, 2024
Literary Hub

Saturday was a gloriously beautiful spring day in Chicago, and as I wandered into the “Liberation Zone” which has taken over DePaul University’s quad, a kind lady asked me if I would like some lunch.

I declined because I was headed to a BBQ in a couple of hours, but I took her up on some coffee, thanked her, and asked her if she was affiliated with the Vincentian Catholic university.

“No,” she told. “I’m just Palestinian.”

I recognized her from previous visits to that particular Gaza Solidarity Encampment, one of four I have visited over the last few weeks: Columbia University’s (where, as a PhD student at NYU, I once took some classes), Northwestern University’s (where I am on the faculty and am a member of Educators for Justice in Palestine), and the University of Chicago’s (where, like at DePaul, I was there to observe and to offer faculty de-escalation support if needed). The lady had been at DePaul every day, serving free food (often donated by Palestinian restaurants) to hundreds of people.

She, like everyone there that day, was extremely welcoming.

Over the previous few days, I had gone to bed or woken up to dark, war-like scenes of unspeakable violence waged by police and state troopers who were often wielding machine guns, lobbing chemical weapons, and shooting rubber-coated bullets (and at least one naked bullet which was not coated in rubber). Though some of the police raids happened in daylight, most have happened at night, with projectile-gun blasts and flash bangs lighting up sinister spectacles of utter chaos.

Those scenes were such a contrast to DePaul’s Liberation Zone, which was almost placid on Saturday. Pivoting from the kind woman offering lunch, I saw a local musician teaching a group of students how to drum quietly on plastic Home Depot buckets. At the art tent, people were making signs. Many students were sprawled out on the grass, lazily enjoying the sun while reading books, writing, drawing, or debating politics. This seemed to be not only exactly what college life should be—judging from the official DePaul sign on the student center saying “Here, we hang out with a purpose”—it looked like what this university in particular desired.

The only violence came from Zionist counter protesters and, to a much larger degree, the police.

Indeed, at all four camps where I have spent time, I have been blown away by the light, the grass, the sky, the spirit of generosity, the easy temporal nature of camping with friends, the camaraderie, and—for the modern American university—the surprisingly religious spirit (drawn from Islam, Christianity, Judaism, and Native American traditions). These encampments were not always calm—sometimes they could be quite lively—yet they were among the most dynamic, electric, alive and pedagogical spaces I have ever seen.

 
Between salah and shabbat prayers, students at Columbia’s encampment listen to a speaker at sunset. April 19. All photos by the author.

But violent? The only violence came from Zionist counter protesters and, to a much larger degree, the police. The cops are the chaos agents which make these lovely, often gentle spaces into brutal hellscapes.

Feeling the gentle breeze and the sun on my skin as I floated around DePaul’s camp, I thought about how lucky I am to travel between these sights.

But to those of you who haven’t been able to get to a camp, I say: You are being lied to about these spaces—by most reporters, by most politicians, and (with extremely few exceptions), especially by university presidents.

*

One of the lies you have been told the most is that these encampments are antisemitic. It’s scurrilously perpetuated by journalists like CNN’s Jake Tapper, who are “reporting” from WhatsApp group chats, as well as by politicians, from Republican Speaker Mike Johson to President Biden.

I visited Columbia’s Gaza Solidarity encampment on Friday April 19, a day after the first police raid arrested 113 people and a new set of tents took over the southwest corner of the quad. One of the first things I saw made it apparent to me that early reports of religious strife were just moral panic. A group of Muslim students were kneeling in prayer and, in a scene I have since seen recreated at different camps, a group of students—many Jewish— held a tarp up around them to give them privacy. (Later that evening, Jewish students hosted a seder on the lawn.)

 
The view from inside Columbia’s encampment, looking towards Low Library, April 19.

I also observed a group of speakers address the camp, including a Palestinian American nurse who had recently returned from a shift in Gaza, a white woman who had been arrested in that same spot in 1968 and, most controversially, Norman Finkelstein. Finkelstein is an uncontested expert on Gaza, but he is on the wrong side of some social issues for many students and he does not like the phrase “from the river to the sea.”


And yet, in a scene that should have made contrarian “free speech” diehard contrarians happy, the students listened to all the speakers respectfully. Even when Finkelstein welcomed criticism, it was given, and received, respectfully. (And when he left the lawn and the students chanted “from the river to the sea, Palestine will be free,” he laughed with good nature.)

What I witnessed at Columbia is what I have seen at all the encampments (and, similarly, in years prior, at Occupy Wall Street at Black Lives Matter encampments): students experimenting with making a society better than the shit one they’re expected to accept, enter and recreate. They were experimenting with self governance and horizontal organizing. They were experimenting with educating, entertaining, feeding, defending and (quite unusual at elite universities) praying for and with one another. They were figuring out their values, and putting real effort into trying to do what’s right. How beautiful is that?

Students and elders were sharing their religious traditions and experiences, in a common cause of love and justice to combat American empire.

University administrators want to control every single aspect of students’ social lives, such that they can only produce a limited, finite set of outcomes: one where students will not question the ruling class, but will only socialize in ways that reproduce the social order, and only socialize in ways which maximize profits for the ruling class and uphold the aims of American empire.

Stray from that and you will be destroyed.

And that’s why you are being lied to about these encampments.

On April 30, the following Thursday, a few dozen Northwestern University students declared Deering Meadow to be a Liberated Zone. (It was a fitting location, given the lawn was dedicated to the six student protesters killed in 1970 at Kent State and Jackson State Universities.)

As a member of the group Educators for Justice in Palestine, I signed up as a faculty supporter. We made sure there were always at least four faculty on site with the students, to liaison with police, talk to administration or—given the horrific beatings we had seen the day before at the University of Texas Austin and University of Southern California—to physically intervene if needed.

I was on the first shift when the camp began. It was a bit chilly, but it was a totally serene scene and a beautiful morning—bucolic, even. Students were putting up tents, preparing to serve food and laying out literature which represented their hopes and dreams for stoping the genocide and making a better world. I could hear birds chirping. I saw a bunny.

 
Students relaxing on the first day of Northwestern’s encampment, shortly after the police retreated, April 25.

But then a helicopter buzzed in and, unlike at any other university which I have seen, Northwestern’s police showed up immediately. Within minutes, they threatened to arrest our students.

My colleagues and I hastily formed a faculty defense line, arm-in-arm. The police moved in, pushing, kicking and beating us. A man who identified himself as Northwestern’s Chief of Police (and who is also a “Senior Associate Vice President of Safety & Security”) attacked me personally. It was a harrowing and physically painful experience (and I developed a pain in my right hip still bothering me two weeks later.)

I was deeply touched as matzoh was passed around and folks wearing yarmulkes and hijabs alike literally broke bread with one another.

But, after being jostled around for some time, we prevailed. We held the line, we kept the police from hurting our students, and the cops retreated (to great applause). The camp was born and, for the next five days, Northwestern’s Gaza Solidarity Encampment turned our campus into a welcoming space for students, faculty and neighbors.

 
A sign on a student’s tent at Northwestern University, May 26.

And like all acts of camping, the Liberation Zone allowed people to have a different relationship to time, nature, and to each other.

The life of the camp coincided with the Jewish Passover holidays, and the lie of antisemitism was powerfully burst at every sundown. Each evening would begin with a Passover Seder, as Jewish members of the community lit candles, shared the story of Pesach, explained the foods, and shared the prayers. I have never been more proud of a former student then when one of mine got up on the mic, explained what her Jewish faith meant to her, and spoke passionately about how the lesson of the holiday mean that “never again” meant never again for anyone—in Gaza, Congo, Sudan, America, or anywhere.

I was deeply touched as matzoh was passed around and folks wearing yarmulkes and hijabs alike literally broke bread with one another.

On Friday night, with hundreds of people in attendance dressed in keffiyehs, the encampment’s Jewish community taught everyone to sing the Hebrew song of gratitude “Dayenu.” As a Christian, I had learned this song some 20 years ago at my first seder. But in the secular setting of our university, hearing hundreds of people singing Da-ay-enu, da-ay-enu, day-ey-enu, dayenu dayenu together—as Jews, Muslims, Christian, Hindus, people of Native American faiths and no religious faith at all—was one of the most special moments of my life.

That same evening Bethy Massey, an elder who had been at the Columbia protests in 1968, addressed the crowd. Despite her soft voice and pronounced tremor, hundreds of young people listened in rapt attention.

 
Northwestern students gathered for Friday Shabbat prayers and community talks, April 26.

This sharing of the Passover meal and intergenerational communion were not, of course, antisemitic—just as the issue of colonial domination in Israel is not about Judaism, or even about religion. These students and elders were sharing their religious traditions and experiences, in a common cause of love and justice to combat American empire.

And that’s why you are being lied to about the nature of these camps, by presidents of universities and of the United States alike.

*

A lie from journalists is that these protesters’ demands aren’t clear, and that the camps are impossible to report on.

On Tuesday, media critic Brian Stelter tweeted this quote from an article by Jill Filipovic: “Despite all the coverage of the protests over Israel’s war in Gaza, it can be remarkably difficult to understand what the players are actually saying.” The article is titled “Say Plainly What the Protesters Want” and Filipovic was not done any favors by Stelter or whoever wrote her headline.

Though I still do not agree with her on much in it, the article is not as flat as the former CNN media critic or the Atlantic headline writer make it out to be. Still, Filipovic begins her essay with the line Stelter highlighted, and its faulty premise: that where protesters stand is confusing. (She herself later writes “the protests—both on college campuses and those led by broader, non campus groups—have articulated demands and ideologies. News outlets have a responsibility to report what those are, and are largely failing.”)

It is extremely easy to see what the students want: the website Students 4 Gaza lists a map of every school encampment (183 as of this writing) and links to each one’s demands. What exactly they want is very articulate, well reasoned, and is as easy to comprehend as signs or chants that say Disclose! Divest! We will not stop, we will not rest!

 
The painted “Community Guidelines” of the DePaul Liberated Zone. Students would recite them whenever sessions were held on microphones and ask everyone to agree to them if they were going to be in the encampment, May 1.

But too many journalists perform a particular kind of false, learned helplessness about Palestine, acting like “It’s just too complicated!” when it is not.

No example of this in the past week has been more glaring than Peggy Noonan’s. As she infamously wrote in the Wall Street Journal, she went to the encampment at Columbia before it was shut down for a second time:

I was on a bench taking notes as a group of young women, all in sun-glasses, masks and keffiyehs, walked by. “Friends, please come say hello and tell me what you think,” I called. They marched past, not making eye contact, save one, a beautiful girl of about 20. “I’m not trained,” she said. Which is what they’re instructed to say to corporate media representatives who will twist your words. “I’m barely trained, you’re safe,” I called, and she laughed, and half-halted. But her friends gave her a look and she conformed.

It’s not hard to hear what the students are saying, even if they don’t give you an exclusive scoop. Journalists could just go to a camp…

To her credit, unlike many journalists, Noonan actually went to an encampment before writing about it. But she misrepresented herself (she is not “barely trained” as a journalist), she insulted her would-be sources in the pages of her paper because they declined to talk to her, and she barely tried to listen to them.

Did she try 10 more students?
Did she go to the media table or tent and ask to speak to a student representative?
Did she in any way make herself a helpful member of the community?

More fundamentally, has she lived her life in such a way that an activist upset with the state of the world would want to talk to her? I am guessing the one-time Ronald Reagan speech writer has not. (And, my reading of her career is that she engages in transactional journalism, while many people at the encampments believe in relational journalism.)

 
A statue on DePaul’s campus of St. Louise who was co-founder, with Saint Vincent de Paul, of the Daughters of Charity. She has been draped with a keffiyeh, May 1.

I have never had trouble talking to anyone in any encampment. When I went to Columbia’s, I saw a young Black woman de-escalate a situation with two Zionist students, who were beginning to taunt Muslim students as they prayed. She de-escalated them so deftly, the Zionist students walked away not seemingly out of anger or frustration, but from an acceptance to not bother their fellow students.

When I congratulated her on how well she’d done, we started chatting. Without my asking, she invited me onto the main lawn, which was only for students or their invited guests, and told her peers I was fine to join them.

I hadn’t barked “tell me what you think” at her, nor was I even trying to get closer to the action; the invitation just came organically as we spoke.

Similarly, I visited DePaul last Sunday morning, and the scene was not as relaxed as it had been the day before. Rather, hundreds of students were defending the camp and heatedly facing off a counter demonstration of Zionists. Yet when I walked up to them and asked if I could step inside past their locked arms, I was immediately ushered in. (I later stepped back out when it became clear I needed to pitch in as faculty to help de-escalate the tension and be a police liaison.)

 
A sign on a student’s tent at Northwestern University, May 26

New York Times White House correspondent Peter Baker did Noonan no favors when he quoted Noonan’s lines above on Twitter, adding, “When protests are not about actually explaining your cause or trying to engage journalists who are there to listen.”

But is Noonan listening to students? Are Baker, Filipovic, Stelter or Tapper? Local journalists are—consider this week’s viral video from the local Fox affiliate TV station with the brilliant University of Chicago student as they fended off police, or this, of a student representative speaking at the Oxford encampment—but are any national journalists listening? It’s not hard to hear what the students are saying, even if they don’t give you an exclusive scoop. Journalists could just go to a camp, talk to the official reps, read the community guidelines, or even just look and listen to the signs around them—like the one made by the student which listed their 200 family members who have been killed in Gaza.

In these contemplative, dynamic spaces, it is not hard to hear what the students are expressing—and sometimes, those expressions are loving and profound.

For instance, the first time I went to the University of Chicago’s encampment in the daytime, I noticed the medics were working out of the Dr. Hammam Alloh Medic Tent. I recognized the name but couldn’t place it from memory, and looked him up.

Dr. Alloh was a sole nephrologist in Gaza, worked at Al Shifa hospital, and refused to leave his patients. As he told Amy Goodman on October 31 last year, even though he and his colleagues were “being exterminated,” he said, “If I go, who treats my patients? You think I went to medical school for 14 years so I can only think about my life and not my patients?

“This is not the reason I became a doctor.”

Less than two weeks later, he was killed by US-backed Israel. He was only 36.



Without even having to talk to anyone at the UChicago camp, I heard what they were about, and what they were saying. Theirs was a message of love, of kindness. Quietly, gently, but in word and deed, they were recovering Dr. Alloh’s spirit of generosity and bringing it back to life—as the students are doing with their Refaat Alareer libraries.

Anyone visiting the camps can see and hear these messages. They are everywhere.

Anyone not hearing and reporting them is lying to you.

*

On Tuesday, my good friend Prof. Eman Abdelhadi, a professor at the University of Chicago, traveled to her students’ camp after midnight. There were credible reports from reliable media sources that a raid was imminent. Prof. Abdelhadi cares deeply for her students, and stayed with them until around dawn, when fear of the raid seemed over.

But, shortly after she and legal observers left, the university’s own police force moved in and raided the camp. Just back home, Prof. Abdelhad returned to campus again.

 
University of Chicago Police in riot gear standing between the campus Gaza Solidarity Encampment and Zionist counter-protesters, May 3.

Sharing an email about her university’s “cleanup” of the quad (which terrorized sleeping students and violently destroyed their property), she wrote: “By cleanup they mean destroying the only real community space that’s existed on this campus.”

The shared goals of these encampments—to divest from an apartheid state and end the genocide in Gaza—are not anything to be ashamed about.

“For many of us,” she continued, “these past 8 days were a glimpse into a different kind of life. One where we are truly connected to each other, where we share space as human beings not just as positions (student, professor, etc). That feeling is bigger than a tent, and it will guide us forward.”

This hit me hard. In the five days of my university’s camp, I met more students and faculty (especially people of color) than I had in the previous five years. Outside of my classroom, the Liberation Zone marked the only five days I have felt welcomed or connected to people anywhere on my campus.

I’ve also met more caring, compassionate colleagues at their camps than in any other venue over my years in Chicago. The shared goals of these encampments—to divest from an apartheid state and end the genocide in Gaza—are not anything to be ashamed about. They are moral and righteous desires. Nor are these fringe positions; they are desired by the majority of the people on this planet.

In the four encampments I have visited, it has felt so good to not have to pretend—as so many universities, publications and politicians seem to want us to—that everything is fine and we must just get back to normal by pretending what is happening isn’t happening. Everyone knows police could come in at any second and beat the shit out of them; but they know what’s happening in Gaza is far worse, and so they’re willing to take the risk.

As a professor, it has felt good to pick up trash with my students, and to learn about how to roll a keffiyeh or sing Pesach songs with them. For all four encampments I visited erased a lot of divisions: between young students and old teachers; between faculty and staff; between Jews, Muslims and Christians; between formal members of a university community and our neighbors; between students of different universities (and their peers who don’t go to college).

Like the the Poor People’s Campaign Martin Luther King was planning when he was killed in 1968 (which was supposed to be a shanty town encampment of white, Black and Chicano poor people on the National Mall) the Gaza solidarity encampments have been a taste of what might be possible when everyone freely gets what they need—and when people unite across divisions to share shabbat, salah, and a demand to end war.

And that’s why, so often, you are being lied to about them.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Steven W. Thrasher

 

Steven W. Thrasher, PhD, CPT, a journalist, social epidemiologist, and cultural critic, holds the Daniel Renberg chair at the Medill School of Journalism, and is on the faculty of Northwestern University’s Institute of Sexual and Gender Minority Health and Wellbeing. A former writer for the Village Voice, Scientific American and the Guardian, Thrasher is the author of the critically acclaimed book The Viral Underclass: The Human Toll When Inequality and Disease Collide. [Photo by C.S. Muncy]
May 24, 2024
 
Prof. Steven Thrasher: You Are Being Lied to About Pro-Palestine Protests on Campus

VIDEO:  
 


The presidents of UCLA, Northwestern and Rutgers universities were questioned Thursday on Capitol Hill about pro-Palestine protests on campus Thursday, the fourth time in six months that the Republican-led House Education Committee has summoned school leaders to Washington over accusations of antisemitism. Lawmakers reserved their heaviest questioning for the presidents of Northwestern and Rutgers, where Gaza solidarity encampments were voluntarily dismantled after students negotiated deals with university administrators. 
 
Northwestern journalism professor Steven Thrasher, who has been an outspoken supporter of the Gaza solidarity encampments at his school and elsewhere, was singled out during the hearing and described as a “goon,” but he tells Democracy Now! he is undeterred in both his pro-Palestine advocacy and defense of his students. “It’s supposed to scare everybody who supports Gaza. It’s supposed to scare everybody who’s against the genocide. It’s supposed to scare students who are righteously standing up against the killing that’s happening,” says Thrasher.

Latest Shows

Transcript: 
 
 
Democracy Now! is an independent global news hour that airs on over 1,500 TV and radio stations Monday through Friday. Watch our livestream at democracynow.org Mondays to Fridays 8-9 a.m. ET. 
 
 

Tuesday, May 28, 2024

A New Generation of Activists and Students in Solidarity with the People of Gaza Will Not Be Deterred, Censored, Marginalized, or Intimidated Either on college campuses or in the streets on behalf of the liberation and self determination of Palestine in their and our collective struggle against the scourges of Genocide and Apartheid

https://truthout.org/articles/our-gaza-encampments-may-fall-but-theyve-already-radicalized-a-generation/