• Quei bambini chiusi in trappola a Gaza. Il racconto di #Ruba_Salih
    (une interview de Ruba Salih, prof à l’Université de Bologne, 5 jours après le #7_octobre_2023)

    «Mai come in queste ore a Gaza il senso di appartenere a una comune “umanita” si sta mostrando più vuoto di senso. La responsabilità di questo è del governo israeliano», dice Ruba Salih antropologa dell’università di Bologna che abbiamo intervistato mentre cresce la preoccupazione per la spirale di violenza che colpisce la popolazione civile palestinese e israeliana.

    Quali sono state le sue prime reazioni, sentimenti, pensieri di fronte all’attacco di Hamas e poi all’annuncio dell’assedio di Gaza messo in atto dal governo israeliano?

    Il 7 ottobre la prima reazione è stata di incredulità alla vista della recinzione metallica di Gaza sfondata, e alla vista dei palestinesi che volavano con i parapendii presagendo una sorta di fine dell’assedio. Ho avuto la sensazione di assistere a qualcosa che non aveva precedenti nella storia recente. Come era possibile che l’esercito più potente del mondo potesse essere sfidato e colto così alla sprovvista? In seguito, ho cominciato a chiamare amici e parenti, in Cisgiordania, Gaza, Stati Uniti, Giordania. Fino ad allora si aveva solo la notizia della cattura di un numero imprecisato di soldati israeliani. Ho pensato che fosse una tattica per fare uno scambio di prigionieri. Ci sono più di 5000 prigionieri palestinesi nelle carceri israeliane e 1200 in detenzione amministrativa, senza processo o accusa. Poi sono cominciate da domenica ad arrivare le notizie di uccisioni e morti di civili israeliani, a cui è seguito l’annuncio di ‘guerra totale’ del governo di Netanyahu. Da allora il sentimento è cambiato. Ora grande tristezza per la quantità di vittime, dell’una e dell’altra parte, e preoccupazione e angoscia senza precedenti per le sorti della popolazione civile di Gaza, che in queste ore sta vivendo le ore piu’ drammatiche che si possano ricordare.

    E quando ha visto quello che succedeva, con tantissime vittime israeliane, violenze terribili, immagini di distruzione, minacce di radere al suolo Gaza?

    Colleghi e amici israeliani hanno cominciato a postare immagini di amici e amiche uccisi – anche attivisti contro l’occupazione- e ho cominciato dolorosamente a mandare condoglianze. Contemporaneamente giungevano terribili parole del ministro della Difesa israeliano Gallant che definiva i palestinesi “animali umani”, dichiarando di voler annientare la striscia di Gaza e ridurla a “deserto”. Ho cominciato a chiamare amici di Gaza per sapere delle loro famiglie nella speranza che fossero ancora tutti vivi. Piano piano ho cominciato a cercare di mettere insieme i pezzi e dare una cornice di senso a quello che stava succedendo.

    Cosa può dirci di Gaza che già prima dell’attacco di Hamas era una prigione a cielo aperto?

    Si, Gaza è una prigione. A Gaza la maggior parte della popolazione è molto giovane, e in pochi hanno visto il mondo oltre il muro di recinzione. Due terzi della popolazione è composto da famiglie di rifugiati del 1948. Il loro vissuto è per lo più quello di una lunga storia di violenza coloniale e di un durissimo assedio negli ultimi 15 anni. Possiamo cercare di immaginare cosa significa vivere questo trauma che si protrae da generazioni. Gli abitanti di Gaza nati prima del 1948 vivevano in 247 villaggi nel sud della Palestina, il 50% del paese. Sono stati costretti a riparare in campi profughi a seguito della distruzione o occupazione dei loro villaggi. Ora vivono in un’area che rappresenta l’1.3% della Palestina storica con una densità di 7000 persone per chilometro quadrato e le loro terre originarie si trovano a pochi metri di là dal muro di assedio, abitate da israeliani.

    E oggi?

    Chi vive a Gaza si descrive come in una morte lenta, in una privazione del presente e della capacità di immaginare il futuro. Il 90% dell’acqua non è potabile, il 60% della popolazione è senza lavoro, l’80% riceve aiuti umanitari per sopravvivere e il 40% vive al di sotto della soglia di povertà: tutto questo a causa dell’ occupazione e dell’assedio degli ultimi 15 anni. Non c’è quasi famiglia che non abbia avuto vittime, i bombardamenti hanno raso al suolo interi quartieri della striscia almeno quattro volte nel giro di una decina di anni. Non credo ci sia una situazione analoga in nessun altro posto del mondo. Una situazione che sarebbe risolta se Israele rispettasse il diritto internazionale, né più né meno.

    Prima di questa escalation di violenza c’era voglia di reagire, di vivere, di creare, di fare musica...

    Certo, anche in condizioni di privazione della liberta’ c’e’ una straordinaria capacità di sopravvivenza, creatività, amore per la propria gente. Tra l’altro ricordo di avere letto nei diari di Marek Edelman sul Ghetto di Varsavia che durante l’assedio del Ghetto ci si innamorava intensamente come antidoto alla disperazione. A questo proposito, consilgio a tutti di leggere The Ghetto Fights di Edelman. Aiuta molto a capire cosa è Gaza in questo momento, senza trascurare gli ovvi distinguo storici.

    Puoi spiegarci meglio?

    Come sapete il ghetto era chiuso al mondo esterno, il cibo entrava in quantità ridottissime e la morte per fame era la fine di molti. Oggi lo scenario di Gaza, mentre parliamo, è che non c’è elettricità, il cibo sta per finire, centinaia di malati e neonati attaccati alle macchine mediche hanno forse qualche ora di sopravvivenza. Il governo israeliano sta bombardando interi palazzi, le vittime sono per più della metà bambini. In queste ultime ore la popolazione si trova a dovere decidere se morire sotto le bombe in casa o sotto le bombe in strada, dato che il governo israeliano ha intimato a un milione e centomila abitanti di andarsene. Andare dove? E come nel ghetto la popolazione di Gaza è definita criminale e terrorista.

    Anche Franz Fanon, lei suggerisce, aiuta a capire cosa è Gaza.

    Certamente, come ho scritto recentemente, Fanon ci viene in aiuto con la forza della sua analisi della ferita della violenza coloniale come menomazione psichica oltre che fisica, e come privazione della dimensione di interezza del soggetto umano libero, che si manifesta come un trauma, anche intergenerazionale. La violenza prolungata penetra nelle menti e nei corpi, crea una sospensione delle cornici di senso e delle sensibilità che sono prerogativa di chi vive in contesti di pace e benessere. Immaginiamoci ora un luogo, come Gaza, dove come un rapporto di Save the Children ha riportato, come conseguenza di 15 anni di assedio e blocco, 4 bambini su 5 riportano un vissuto di depressione, paura e lutto. Il rapporto ci dice che vi è stato un aumento vertiginoso di bambini che pensano al suicidio (il 50%) o che praticano forme di autolesionismo. Tuttavia, tutto questo e’ ieri. Domani non so come ci sveglieremo, noi che abbiamo il privilegio di poterci risvegliare, da questo incubo. Cosa resterà della popolazione civile di Gaza, donne, uomini bambini.

    Come legge il sostegno incondizionato al governo israeliano di cui sono pieni i giornali occidentali e dell’invio di armi ( in primis dagli Usa), in un’ottica di vittoria sconfitta che abbiamo già visto all’opera per la guerra Russia-Ucraina?

    A Gaza si sta consumando un crimine contro l’umanità di dimensioni e proporzioni enormi mentre i media continuano a gettare benzina sul fuoco pubblicando notizie in prima pagina di decapitazioni e stupri, peraltro non confermate neanche dallo stesso esercito israeliano. Tuttavia, non utilizzerei definizioni statiche e omogeneizzanti come quelle di ‘Occidente’ che in realtà appiattiscono i movimenti e le società civili sulle politiche dei governi, che in questo periodo sono per lo più a destra, nazionalisti xenofobi e populisti. Non è sempre stato così.

    Va distinto il livello istituzionale, dei governi e dei partiti o dei media mainstream, da quello delle società civili e dei movimenti sociali?

    Ci sono una miriade di manifestazioni di solidarietà ovunque nel mondo, che a fianco del lutto per le vittime civili sia israeliane che palestinesi, non smettono di invocare la fine della occupazione, come unica via per ristabilire qualcosa che si possa chiamare diritto (e diritti umani) in Palestina e Israele. Gli stessi media mainstream sono in diversi contesti molto più indipendenti che non in Italia. Per esempio, Bcc non ha accettato di piegarsi alle pressioni del governo rivendicando la sua indipendenza rifiutandosi di usare la parola ‘terrorismo’, considerata di parte, preferendo riferirsi a quei palestinesi che hanno sferrato gli attacchi come ‘combattenti’. Se sono stati commessi crimini contro l’umanità parti lo stabiliranno poi le inchieste dei tribunali penali internazionali. In Italia, la complicità dei media è invece particolarmente grave e allarmante. Alcune delle (rare) voci critiche verso la politica del governo israeliano che per esempio esistono perfino sulla stampa liberal israeliana, come Haaretz, sarebbero in Italia accusate di anti-semitismo o incitamento al terrorismo! Ci tengo a sottolineare tuttavia che il fatto che ci sia un certo grado di libertà di pensiero e di stampa in Israele non significa che Israele sia una ‘democrazia’ o perlomeno non lo è certo nei confronti della popolazione palestinese. Che Israele pratichi un regime di apartheid nei confronti dei palestinesi è ormai riconosciuto da organizzazioni come Amnesty International e Human Rights Watch, nonché sottolineato a più riprese dalla Relatrice speciale delle Nazioni Unite sui territori palestinesi occupati, Francesca Albanese.

    Dunque non è una novità degli ultimi giorni che venga interamente sposata la retorica israeliana?

    Ma non è una novità degli ultimi giorni che venga interamente sposata la narrativa israeliana. Sono anni che i palestinesi sono disumanizzati, resi invisibili e travisati. Il paradosso è che mentre Israele sta violando il diritto e le convenzioni internazionali e agisce in totale impunità da decenni, tutte le forme di resistenza: non violente, civili, dimostrative, simboliche, legali dei palestinesi fino a questo momento sono state inascoltate, anzi la situazione sul terreno è sempre più invivibile. Persino organizzazioni che mappano la violazione dei diritti umani sono demonizzate e catalogate come ‘terroristiche’. Anche le indagini e le commissioni per valutare le violazioni delle regole di ingaggio dell’esercito sono condotte internamente col risultato che divengono solo esercizi procedurali vuoti di sostanza (come per l’assassinio della reporter Shereen AbuHakleh, rimasto impunito come quello degli altri 55 giornalisti uccisi dall’esercito israeliano). Ci dobbiamo seriamente domandare: che cosa rimane del senso vero delle parole e del diritto internazionale?

    Il discorso pubblico è intriso di militarismo, di richiami alla guerra, all’arruolamento…

    Personalmente non metterei sullo stesso piano la resistenza di un popolo colonizzato con il militarismo come progetto nazionalistico di espansione e profitto. Possiamo avere diversi orientamenti e non condividere le stesse strategie o tattiche ma la lotta anticoloniale non è la stessa cosa del militarismo legato a fini di affermazione di supremazia e dominio di altri popoli. Quella dei palestinesi è una lotta che si inscrive nella scia delle lotte di liberazione coloniali, non di espansione militare. La lotta palestinese si collega oggi alle lotte di giustizia razziale e di riconoscimento dei nativi americani e degli afro-americani contro società che oggi si definiscono liberali ma che sono nate da genocidi, schiavitù e oppressione razziale. Le faccio un esempio significativo: la prima bambina Lakota nata a Standing Rock durante le lunghe proteste contro la costruzione degli olelodotti in North Dakota, che stanno espropriando e distruggendo i terre dei nativi e inquinando le acque del Missouri, era avvolta nella Kuffyah palestinese. Peraltro, il nazionalismo non è più il solo quadro di riferimento. In Palestina si lotta per la propria casa, per la propria terra, per la liberazione dalla sopraffazione dell’occupazione, dalla prigionia, per l’autodeterminazione che per molti è immaginata o orientata verso la forma di uno stato laico binazionale, almeno fino agli eventi recenti. Domani non so come emergeremo da tutto questo.

    Emerge di nuovo questa cultura patriarcale della guerra, a cui come femministe ci siamo sempre opposte…

    Con i distinguo che ho appena fatto e che ribadisco – ossia che non si può mettere sullo stesso piano occupanti e occupati, colonialismo e anticolonialismo -mi sento comunque di dire che una mobilitazione trasversale che aneli alla fine della occupazione deve essere possibile. Nel passato, il movimento femminista internazionalista tentava di costruire ponti tra donne palestinesi e israeliane mobilitando il lutto di madri, sorelle e figlie delle vittime della violenza. Si pensava che questo fosse un legame primario che univa nella sofferenza, attraversando le differenze. Ci si appellava alla capacità delle donne di politicizzare la vulnerabilità, convinte che nella morte e nel lutto si fosse tutte uguali. La realtà è che la disumanizzazione dei palestinesi, rafforzata dalla continua e sempre più violenta repressione israeliana, rende impossibile il superamento delle divisioni in nome di una comune umanità. Mentre i morti israeliani vengono pubblicamente compianti e sono degni di lutto per il mondo intero, i palestinesi – definiti ‘terroristi’ (anche quando hanno praticato forme non-violente di resistenza), scudi-umani, animali (e non da oggi), sono già morti -privati della qualità di umani- prima ancora di morire, e inscritti in una diversa classe di vulnerabilità, di non essenza, di disumanità.

    Antropologa dell’università di Bologna Ruba Salih si interessa di antropologia politica con particolare attenzione a migrazioni e diaspore postcoloniali, rifugiati, violenza e trauma coloniale, genere corpo e memoria. Più recentemente si è occupata di decolonizzazione del sapere e Antropocene e di politiche di intersezionalità nei movimenti di protesta anti e de-coloniali. Ha ricoperto vari ruoli istituzionali tra cui membro eletto del Board of Trustees del Arab Council for the Social Sciences, dal 2015 al 2019. È stata visiting professor presso varie istituzioni tra cui Brown University, University of Cambridge e Università di Venezia, Ca’ Foscari.

    https://left.it/2023/10/12/quei-bambini-chiusi-in-trappola-a-gaza-il-racconto-di-ruba-salih

    #Gaza #Israël #Hamas #violence #prison #Palestine #violence_coloniale #siège #trauma #traumatisme #camps_de_réfugiés #réfugiés #réfugiés_palestiniens #pauvreté #bombardements #violence #dépression #peur #santé_mentale #suicide #crime_contre_l'humanité #apartheid #déshumanisation #résistance #droit_international #lutte #nationalisme #féminisme #à_lire #7_octobre_2023

    • Gaza between colonial trauma and genocide

      In the hours following the attack of Palestinian fighters in the south of Israel Western observers, bewildered, speculated about why Hamas and the young Palestinians of Gaza, born and bred under siege and bombs, have launched an attack of this magnitude, and right now. Others expressed their surprise at the surprise.

      The Israeli government responded by declaring “total war”, promising the pulverization of Gaza and demanding the inhabitants to leave the strip, knowing that there is no escape. Mobilising even the Holocaust and comparing the fighters to the Nazis, the Israeli government engaged in an operation that they claim is aimed at the destruction of Hamas.

      In fact, as I am writing, Gaza is being razed to the ground with an unbearable number of Palestinian deaths which gets larger by the hour, with people fleeing under Israeli bombs, water, electricity and fuel being cut, hospitals – receiving one patient a minute – on the brink of catastrophe, and humanitarian convoys prevented from entering the strip.

      An ethnic cleansing of Palestinians in Gaza is taking place with many legal observers claiming this level of violence amounts to a genocide.

      But what has happened – shocking and terrible in terms of the number of victims – including children and the elderly – creates not only a new political scenario, but above all it also imposes a new frame of meaning.

      Especially since the Oslo accords onwards, the emotional and interpretative filter applying to the “conflict” has been the asymmetrical valuing of one life over the other which in turn rested on an expectation of acquiescence and acceptance of the Palestinians’ subalternity as a colonised people. This framing has been shattered.

      The day of the attack, millions of Palestinians inside and outside the occupied territories found themselves in a trance-like state – with an undeniable initial euphoria from seeing the prison wall of Gaza being dismantled for the first time. They were wondering whether what they had before their eyes was delirium or reality. How was it possible that the Palestinians from Gaza, confined in a few suffocating square kilometres, repeatedly reduced to rubble, managed to evade the most powerful and technologically sophisticated army in the world, using only rudimentary equipment – bicycles with wings and hang-gliders? They could scarcely believe they were witnessing a reversal of the experience of violence, accustomed as they are to Palestinian casualties piling up relentlessly under Israeli bombardments, machine gun fire and control apparatus.

      Indeed, that Israel “declared war” after the attack illustrates this: to declare war assumes that before there was “peace”. To be sure, the inhabitants of Sderot and southern Israel would like to continue to live in peace. For the inhabitants of Gaza, on the other hand, peace is an abstract concept, something they have never experienced. For the inhabitants of the strip, as well as under international law, Gaza is an occupied territory whose population – two million and three hundred thousand people, of which two thirds are refugees from 1948 – lives (or to use their own words: “die slowly”) inside a prison. Control over the entry and exit of people, food, medicine, materials, electricity and telecommunications, sea, land and air borders, is in Israeli hands. International law, correctly invoked to defend the Ukrainian people and to sanction the Russian occupier, is a wastepaper for Israel, which enjoys an impunity granted to no other state that operates in such violation of UN resolutions, even disregarding agreements they themselves signed, never mind international norms and conventions.

      This scaffolding has crucially rested on the certainty that Palestinians cannot and should not react to their condition, not only and not so much because of their obvious military inferiority, but in the warped belief that Palestinian subjectivity must and can accept remaining colonised and occupied, to all intents and purposes, indefinitely. The asymmetry of strength on the ground led to an unspoken – but devastatingly consequential – presumption that Palestinians would accept to be confined to a space of inferiority in the hierarchy of human life.

      In this sense, what is happening these days cannot be understood and analysed with the tools of those who live in “peace”, but must be understood (insofar as this is even possible for those who do not live in Gaza or the occupied Palestinian territories) from a space defined by the effects of colonial violence and trauma. It is to Franz Fanon that we owe much of what we know about colonial violence – especially that it acts as both a physical and psychic injury. A psychiatrist from Martinique who joined the liberation struggle for independence in Algeria under French colonial rule, he wrote at length about how the immensity and duration of the destruction inflicted upon colonised subjects results in a wide and deep process of de-humanisation which, at such a profound level, also compromises the ability of the colonised to feel whole and to fully be themselves, humans among humans. In this state of physical and psychic injury, resistance is the colonised subject’s only possibility of repair. This has been the case historically in all contexts of liberation from colonial rule, a lineage to which the Palestinian struggle belongs.

      It is in this light that the long-lasting Palestinian resistance of the last 75 years should be seen, and this is also the key to understanding the unprecedented events of the last few days. These are the result, as many observers – including Israeli ones – have noted, of the failure of the many forms of peaceful resistance that the Palestinians have managed to pursue, despite the occupation, and which they continue to put into play: the hunger strikes of prisoners under “administrative detention”; the civil resistance of villagers such as Bil’in or Sheikh Jarrah who are squeezed between the separation wall, the expropriation of land and homes, and suffocated by the increasingly aggressive and unstoppable expansion of settlements; the efforts to protect the natural environment and indigenous Palestinian culture, including the centuries-old olive trees so often burnt and vandalised by settlers; the Palestinian civil society organisations that map and report human rights violations – which make them, for Israel, terrorist organisations; the struggle for cultural and political memory; the endurance of refugees in refugee camps awaiting implementation of their human rights supported by UN resolutions, as well as reparation and recognition of their long term suffering; and, further back in time, the stones hurled in resistance during the first Intifada, when young people with slingshots threw those same stones with which Israeli soldiers broke their bones and lives, back to them.

      Recall that, in Gaza, those who are not yet twenty years old, who make up about half the population, have already survived at least four bombing campaigns, in 2008-9, in 2012, in 2014, and again in 2022. These alone caused more than 4000 deaths.

      And it is again in Gaza that the Israeli tactic has been perfected of firing on protesters during peaceful protests, such as those in 2018, to maim the bodies – a cynical necropolitical calculation of random distribution between maimed and dead. It is not surprising, then, that in post-colonial literature – from Kateb Yacine to Yamina Mechakra, just to give two examples – the traumas of colonial violence are narrated as presence and absence, in protagonists’ dreams and nightmares, of amputated bodies. This is a metaphor for a simultaneously psychic and physical maiming of the colonised identity, that continues over time, from generation to generation.

      Despite their predicament as colonised for decades and their protracted collective trauma, Palestinians inside and outside of Palestine have however shown an incredible capacity for love, grief and solidarity over time and space, of which we have infinite examples in day-to-day practices of care and connectedness, in the literature, in the arts and culture, and through their international presence in other oppressed peoples’ struggles, such as Black Lives Matter and Native American Dakota protestors camps, or again in places such as the Moria camp in Greece.

      The brutality of a 16 years long siege in Gaza, and the decades of occupation, imprisonment, humiliation, everyday violence, death, grief – which as we write happen at an unprecedented genocidal intensity, but are in no way a new occurrence – have not however robbed people of Gaza, as individuals, of their ability to share in the grief and fear of others.

      “Striving to stay human” is what Palestinians have been doing and continue to do even as they are forced to make inhumane choices such as deciding who to rescue from under the rubbles based on who has more possibility to survive, as recounted by journalist Ahmed Dremly from Gaza during his brief and precious dispatches from the strip under the heavy shelling. This colonial violence will continue to produce traumatic effects in the generations of survivors. Yet, it has to be made clear that as the occupied people, Palestinians cannot be expected to bear the pain of the occupier. Equal standing and rights in life are the necessary preconditions for collective shared grief of death.

      Mahmoud Darwish wrote, in one of his essays on the “madness” of being Palestinian, written after the massacre of Sabra and Shatila in 1982, that the Palestinian “…is encumbered by the relentless march of death and is busy defending what remains of his flesh and his dream…his back is against the wall, but his eyes remain fixed on his country. He can no longer scream. He can no longer understand the reason behind Arab silence and Western apathy. He can do only one thing, to become even more Palestinian… because he has no other choice”.

      The only antidote to the spiral of violence is an end to the occupation and siege, and for Israel to fully comply with international law and to the UN resolutions, as a first and non-negotiable step. From there we can begin to imagine a future of peace and humanity for both Palestinians and Israelis.

      https://untoldmag.org/gaza-between-colonial-trauma-and-genocide
      #colonialisme #traumatisme_colonial #génocide

    • Can the Palestinian speak ?

      It is sadly nothing new to argue that oppressed and colonised people have been and are subject to epistemic violence – othering, silencing, and selective visibility – in which they are muted or made to appear or speak only within certain perceptual views or registers – terrorists, protestors, murderers, humanitarian subjects – but absented from their most human qualities. Fabricated disappearance and dehumanisation of Palestinians have supported and continue to sustain their physical elimination and their erasure as a people.

      But the weeks after October 7th have set a new bar in terms of the inverted and perverse ways that Palestinians and Israel can be represented, discussed, and interpreted. I am referring here to a new epistemology of time that is tight to a moral standpoint that the world is asked to uphold. In that, the acts of contextualising and providing historical depth are framed as morally reprehensible or straight out antisemitic. The idea that the 7th of October marks the beginning of unprecedented violence universalises the experience of one side, the Israeli, while obliterating the past decades of Palestinians’ predicament. More than ever, Palestinians are visible, legible, and audible only through the frames of Israeli subjectivity and sensibility. They exist either to protect Israel or to destroy Israel. Outside these two assigned agencies, they are not, and cannot speak. They are an excess of agency like Spivak’s subaltern,[1] or a ‘superfluous’ people as Mahmoud Darwish[2] put it in the aftermath of the Sabra and Chatila massacre. What is more is the persistent denying by Israel and its Western allies, despite the abundant historical evidence, that Palestinian indigenous presence in Palestine has always been at best absented from their gaze – ‘a problem’ to manage and contain – at worse the object of systemic and persistent ethnic cleansing and erasure aiming at fulfilling the narcissistic image of “a land without a people for a people without a land.” Yet, the erasure of Palestinians, also today in Gaza, is effected and claimed while simultaneously being denied.

      A quick check of the word “Palestine” on google scholar returns one million and three hundred thousand studies, nearly half of them written from the mid 1990s onwards. Even granting that much of this scholarship would be situated in and reproducing orientalist and colonial knowledges, one can hardly claim scarcity of scholarly production on the dynamics of subalternity and oppression in Palestine. Anthropology, literary theory, and history have detected and detailed the epistemological and ontological facets of colonial and post-colonial erasure. One might thus ask: how does the persistent denial of erasure in the case of Palestinians work? We might resort to psychoanalysis or to a particular form of narcissistic behaviour known as DAVRO – Deny, Attack, and Reverse Victim and Offender[3] – to understand the current pervading and cunning epistemic violence that Israel and its allies enact. Denying the radical obstructing and effacing of Palestinian life (while effecting it through settler-colonialism, settler and state violence, siege, apartheid, and genocidal violence in Gaza) is the first stage in Israel’s and western allies’ discursive manipulation. Attacking historicisation and contextualisation as invalid, antisemitic, propaganda, hate speech, immoral, outrageous, and even contrary to liberal values is the second stage. Lastly is the Reversing Victim and Offender by presenting the war on Gaza as one where Israel is a historical victim reacting to the offender, in response to demands that Israel, as the colonial and occupying power, takes responsibility for the current cycle of violence.

      This partly explains why the violent attack that Hamas conducted in the south of Israel last October, in which 1200 people were killed, is consistently presented as the start date of an ‘unprecedented’ violence, with more than 5000 Palestinians killed in carpet bombings of Gaza until 2022 doubly erased, physically and epistemically. With this, October 7th becomes the departure point of an Israeli epistemology of time assumed as universal, but it also marks an escalation in efforts to criminalise contextualisation and banish historicisation.

      Since October 7th, a plurality of voices – ranging from Israeli political figures and intellectuals, to mainstream and left-leaning journalists – has condemned efforts to inscribe Gaza into a long term history of colonialism as scurrilous justification for the killing of Israeli civilians. Attempts to analyse or understand facts through a historical and political frame, by most notably drawing attention to Gazans’ lived experience over the past 16 years (as a consequence of its long term siege and occupation) or merely to argue that there is a context in which events are taking place, such as General UN director Guterres did when he stated that October 7th “did not happen in a vacuum,” are represented as inciting terrorism or morally repugnant hate speech. In the few media reports accounting for the dire and deprived conditions of Palestinians’ existence in Gaza, the reasons causing the former are hardly mentioned. For instance, we hear in reports that Palestinians in Gaza are mostly refugees, that they are unemployed, and that 80% of them are relying on aid, with trucks of humanitarian aid deemed insufficient in the last few weeks in comparison to the numbers let in before the 7th of October. Astoundingly, the 56 years old Israeli occupation and 17 years old siege of Gaza, as root causes of the destruction of the economy, unemployment, and reliance on aid are not mentioned so that the public is left to imagine that these calamities are the result of Palestinians’ own doing.

      In other domains, we see a similar endeavour in preventing Palestine from being inscribed in its colonial context. Take for instance the many critical theorists who have tried to foreclose Franz Fanon’s analysis of colonial violence to Palestinians. Naming the context of colonial violence and Palestinians’ intergenerational and ongoing traumas is interpreted as morally corrupt, tantamount to not caring for Israeli trauma and a justification for the loss of Israeli lives. The variation of the argument that does refer to historical context either pushes Fanon’s arguments to the margins or argues that the existence of a Palestinian authority invalidates Fanon’s applicability to Palestine, denying therefore the effects of the violence that Palestinians as colonised subjects have endured and continue to endure because of Israeli occupation, apartheid, and siege.

      But perhaps one of the most disconcerting forms of gaslighting is the demand that Palestinians should – and could – suspend their condition of subordination, their psychic and physical injury, to centre the perpetrators’ feelings and grief as their own. In fact, the issue of grief has come to global attention almost exclusively as an ethical and moral question in reaction to the loss of Israeli lives. Palestinians who accept to go on TV are constantly asked whether they condemn the October 7th attack, before they can even dare talk about their own long history of loss and dispossession, and literally while their families are being annihilated by devastating shelling and bombing and still lying under the rubbles. One such case is that of PLO ambassador to the UK Hussam Zomlot, who lost members of his own family in the current attack, but was asked by Kirsty Wark to “condemn Hamas” on screen. To put it another way: would it even be conceivable to imagine a journalist asking Israeli hostages in captivity if they condemn the Israeli bombardments and the war on Gaza as a precondition to speak and be heard?

      “Condemning” becomes the condition of Palestinian intelligibility and audibility as humans, a proof that they share the universal idea that all human life is sacred, at the very moment when the sacrality of human life is violently precluded to them and when they are experiencing with brutal clarity that their existence as a people matters to no one who has the power to stop the carnage. This imperative mistakes in bad faith the principle that lives should have equal worth with a reality that for Palestinians is plainly experienced as the opposite of this postulate. Israel, on the other hand, is given “the extenuating circumstances” for looking after Israelis’ own trauma by conducting one of the most indiscriminate and ferocious attacks on civilians in decades, superior in its intensity and death rate to the devastation we saw in Afghanistan, Iraq, and Syria, according to the New York Times. Nearly 20.000 killed – mostly children, women, and elderly – razed, shelled, bulldozed while in their homes or shelters, in an onslaught that does not spare doctors, patients, journalists, academics, and even Israeli hostages, and that aims at making Gaza an unlivable habitat for the survivors.

      Let us go back to the frequently invoked question of “morality.” In commentaries and op-eds over the last few weeks we are told that any mention of context for the attacks of October 7th is imperiling the very ability to be compassionate or be moral. Ranging from the Israeli government that argues that a killing machine in Gaza is justified on moral grounds – and that contextualisation and historicisation are a distraction or deviation from this moral imperative – to those who suggest Israel should moderate its violence against Palestinians – such as New York times columnist Nicholas Kristof who wrote that “Hamas dehumanized Israelis, and we must not dehumanize innocent people in Gaza” – all assign a pre-political or a-political higher moral ground to Israel. Moreover, October 7th is said to – and is felt as – having awakened the long historical suffering of the Jews and the trauma of the Holocaust. But what is the invocation of the Holocaust – and the historical experience of European antisemitism – if not a clear effort at historical and moral contextualisation? In fact, the only history and context deemed evocable and valid is the Israeli one, against the history and context of Palestinians’ lives. In this operation, Israeli subjectivity and sensibility is located above history and is assigned a monopoly of morality with October 7th becoming an a-historical and a meta-historical fact at one and the same time. In this canvas Palestinians are afforded permission to exist subject to inhabiting one of the two agencies assigned to them: guardian of Israeli life or colonised subject. This is what Israeli president Herzog means when he declares that there are no innocents in Gaza: “It’s an entire nation out there that is responsible. This rhetoric about civilians not aware, not involved, it’s absolutely not true. They could’ve risen up, they could have fought against that evil regime”. The nearly twenty thousand Palestinian deaths are thus not Israel’s responsibility. Palestinians are liable for their own disappearance for not “fighting Hamas” to protect Israelis. The Israeli victims, including hundreds of soldiers, are, on the other hand, all inherently civilians, and afforded innocent qualities. This is the context in which Heritage Minister Amichai Eliyahu, of Itamar Ben Gvir’s far-right party in power, can suggest nuking Gaza or wiping out all residents: “They can go to Ireland or deserts, the monsters in Gaza should find a solution by themselves”. Let us not here be mistaken by conceding this might just be a fantasy, a desire of elimination: the Guardian and the +972/Local call magazines have provided chilling evidence that Palestinian civilians in Gaza are not “collateral” damage but what is at work is a mass assassination factory, thanks to a sophisticated AI system generating hundreds of unverified targets aiming at eliminating as many civilians as possible.

      Whether Palestinians are worthy of merely living or dying depends thus on their active acceptance or refusal to remain colonised. Any attempts to exit this predicament – whether through violent attacks like on October 7th or by staging peaceful civil tactics such as disobedience, boycott and divesting from Israel, recurrence to international law, peaceful marches, hunger strikes, popular or cultural resistance – are all the same, and in a gaslighting mode disallowed as evidence of Palestinians’ inherent violent nature which proves they need taming or elimination.

      One might be compelled to believe that dehumanisation and the logic of elimination of Palestinians are a reaction to the pain, sorrow, and shock generated by the traumatic and emotional aftermath of October 7th. But history does not agree with this, as the assigning of Palestinians to a non-human or even non-life sphere is deeply rooted in Israeli public discourse. The standpoint of a people seeking freedom from occupation and siege has consistently been reversed and catalogued as one of “terror and threat” to Israeli state and society when it is a threat to their colonial expansive or confinement plans, whether the latter are conceived as divinely mandated or backed by a secular settler-colonial imaginary. In so far as “terrorists” are birthed by snakes and wild beasts as Israeli lawmaker Ayelet Shaker states, they must be exterminated. Her words bear citation as they anticipate Gaza’s current devastation with lucid clarity: “Behind every terrorist stand dozens of men and women, without whom he could not engage in terrorism. They are all enemy combatants, and their blood shall be on all their heads”. Urging the killing of all Palestinians women, men, and children and the destruction of their homes, she continued: “They should go, as should the physical homes in which they raised the snakes. Otherwise, more little snakes will be raised there. They have to die and their houses should be demolished so that they cannot bear any more terrorists.” This is not an isolated voice. Back in 2016 Prime Minister Netanyahu argued that fences and walls should be built all around Israel to defend it from “wild beasts” and against this background retired Israeli general and former head of Intelligence Giora Eiland, in an opinion article in Yedioth Aharonoth on November 19, argues that all Palestinians in Gaza die of fast spreading disease and all infrastructure be destroyed, while still positing Israel’s higher moral ground: “We say that Sinwar (Hamas leader in Gaza, ndr) is so evil that he does not care if all the residents of Gaza die. Such a presentation is not accurate, since who are the “poor” women of Gaza? They are all the mothers, sisters, or wives of Hamas murderers,” adding, “And no, this is not about cruelty for cruelty’s sake, since we don’t support the suffering of the other side as an end but as a means.”

      But let us not be mistaken, such ascription of Palestinians to a place outside of history, and of humanity, goes way back and has been intrinsic to the establishment of Israel. From the outset of the settler colonial project in 1948, Palestinians as the indigenous people of the land have been dehumanised to enable the project of erasing them, in a manner akin to other settler colonial projects which aimed at turning the settlers into the new indigenous. The elimination of Palestinians has rested on more than just physical displacement, destruction, and a deep and wide ecological alteration of the landscape of Palestine to suit the newly fashioned Israeli identity. Key Israeli figures drew a direct equivalence between Palestinian life on the one hand and non-life on the other. For instance, Joseph Weitz, a Polish Jew who settled in Palestine in 1908 and sat in the first and second Transfer Committees (1937–1948) which were created to deal with “the Arab problem” (as the indigenous Palestinians were defined) speaks in his diaries of Palestinians as a primitive unity of human and non-human life.[4] Palestinians and their habitat were, in his words, “bustling with man and beast,” until their destruction and razing to the ground in 1948 made them “fossilized life,” to use Weitz’ own words. Once fossilised, the landscape could thus be visualised as an empty and barren landscape (the infamous desert), enlivened and redeemed by the arrival of the Jewish settlers.

      Locating events within the context and long durée of the incommensurable injustices inflicted upon the Palestinians since 1948 – which have acquired a new unimaginable magnitude with the current war on Gaza – is not just ethically imperative but also politically pressing. The tricks of DARVO (Denying Attacking and Reversing Victim and Offender) have been unveiled. We are now desperately in need of re-orienting the world’s moral compass by exposing the intertwined processes of humanisation and dehumanisation of Jewish Israelis and Palestinians. There is no other way to begin exiting not only the very conditions that usher violence, mass killings, and genocide, but also towards effecting the as yet entirely fictional principle that human lives have equal value.

      [1] Spivak, G. “Can the Subaltern Speak?” (1988). In Lawrence Grossberg and Cary Nelson, eds., Marxism and the Interpretation of Culture, pp. 271–313. Urbana: University of Illinois Press; Basingstoke: Macmillan.

      [2] Mahmoud Darwish, “The Madness of Being a Palestinian,” Journal Of Palestine Studies 15, no. 1 (1985): 138–41.

      [3] Heartfelt thanks to Professor Rema Hamami for alerting me to the notion of DAVRO and for her extended and invaluable comments on this essay.

      [4] Cited in Benvenisti M (2000) Sacred Landscape: The Buried History of the Holy Land since 1948. Berkeley: University of California Press. pp.155-156.

      https://allegralaboratory.net/can-the-palestinian-speak
      #violence_épistémique #élimination #in/visilité #nettoyage_ethnique #oppression #DAVRO

  • #Judith_Butler : Condamner la #violence

    « Je condamne les violences commises par le #Hamas, je les condamne sans la moindre réserve. Le Hamas a commis un #massacre terrifiant et révoltant », écrit Judith Butler avant d’ajouter qu’« il serait étrange de s’opposer à quelque chose sans comprendre de quoi il s’agit, ou sans la décrire de façon précise. Il serait plus étrange encore de croire que toute #condamnation nécessite un refus de comprendre, de #peur que cette #compréhension ne serve qu’à relativiser les choses et diminuer notre #capacité_de_jugement ».

    Les questions qui ont le plus besoin d’un #débat_public, celles qui doivent être discutées dans la plus grande urgence, sont des questions qui sont difficiles à aborder dans les cadres existants. Et même si l’on souhaite aller directement au cœur du sujet, on se heurte à un cadre qui fait qu’il est presque impossible de dire ce que l’on a à dire. Je veux parler ici de la violence, de la violence présente, et de l’histoire de la violence, sous toutes ses formes. Mais si l’on veut documenter la violence, ce qui veut dire comprendre les #tueries et les #bombardements massifs commis par le Hamas en Israël, et qui s’inscrivent dans cette histoire, alors on est accusé de « #relativisme » ou de « #contextualisation ». On nous demande de condamner ou d’approuver, et cela se comprend, mais est-ce bien là tout ce qui, éthiquement, est exigé de nous ? Je condamne les violences commises par le Hamas, je les condamne sans la moindre réserve. Le Hamas a commis un massacre terrifiant et révoltant. Telle a été et est encore ma réaction première. Mais elle n’a pas été la seule.

    Dans l’immédiateté de l’événement, on veut savoir de quel « côté » sont les gens, et clairement, la seule réaction possible à de pareilles tueries est une condamnation sans équivoque. Mais pourquoi se fait-il que nous ayons parfois le sentiment que se demander si nous utilisons les bons mots ou comprenons bien la situation historique fait nécessairement obstacle à une #condamnation_morale absolue ? Est-ce vraiment relativiser que se demander ce que nous condamnons précisément, quelle portée cette condamnation doit avoir, et comment décrire au mieux la ou les formations politiques auxquelles nous nous opposons ?

    Il serait étrange de s’opposer à quelque chose sans comprendre de quoi il s’agit, ou sans la décrire de façon précise. Il serait plus étrange encore de croire que toute condamnation nécessite un refus de comprendre, de peur que cette compréhension ne serve qu’à relativiser les choses et diminuer notre capacité de jugement. Mais que faire s’il est moralement impératif d’étendre notre condamnation à des #crimes tout aussi atroces, qui ne se limitent pas à ceux mis en avant et répétés par les médias ? Quand et où doit commencer et s’arrêter notre acte de condamnation ? N’avons-nous pas besoin d’une évaluation critique et informée de la situation pour accompagner notre condamnation politique et morale, sans avoir à craindre que s’informer et comprendre nous transforme, aux yeux des autres, en complices immoraux de crimes atroces ?

    Certains groupes se servent de l’histoire de la violence israélienne dans la région pour disculper le Hamas, mais ils utilisent une forme corrompue de raisonnement moral pour y parvenir. Soyons clairs. Les violences commises par #Israël contre les Palestiniens sont massives : bombardements incessants, assassinats de personnes de tous âges chez eux et dans les rues, torture dans les prisons israéliennes, techniques d’affamement à #Gaza, expropriation radicale et continue des terres et des logements. Et ces violences, sous toutes leurs formes, sont commises sur un peuple qui est soumis à un #régime_colonial et à l’#apartheid, et qui, privé d’État, est apatride.

    Mais quand les Groupes Solidarité pour la Palestine de Harvard (Harvard Palestine Solidarity Groups) publient une déclaration disant que « le régime d’apartheid est le seul responsable » des attaques mortelles du Hamas contre des cibles israéliennes, ils font une erreur et sont dans l’erreur. Ils ont tort d’attribuer de cette façon la #responsabilité, et rien ne saurait disculper le Hamas des tueries atroces qu’ils ont perpétrées. En revanche, ils ont certainement raison de rappeler l’histoire des violences : « de la #dépossession systématique des terres aux frappes aériennes de routine, des #détentions_arbitraires aux #checkpoints militaires, des séparations familiales forcées aux #assassinats ciblés, les Palestiniens sont forcés de vivre dans un #état_de_mort, à la fois lente et subite. » Tout cela est exact et doit être dit, mais cela ne signifie pas que les violences du Hamas ne soient que l’autre nom des violences d’Israël.

    Il est vrai que nous devons nous efforcer de comprendre les raisons de la formation de groupes comme le Hamas, à la lumière des promesses rompues d’Oslo et de cet « état de mort, à la fois lente et subite » qui décrit bien l’existence des millions de Palestiniens vivant sous #occupation, et qui se caractérise par une #surveillance constante, la #menace d’une détention sans procès, ou une intensification du #siège de #Gaza pour priver ses habitants d’#eau, de #nourriture et de #médicaments. Mais ces références à l’#histoire des Palestiniens ne sauraient justifier moralement ou politiquement leurs actes. Si l’on nous demandait de comprendre la violence palestinienne comme une continuation de la violence israélienne, ainsi que le demandent les Groupes Solidarité pour la Palestine de Harvard, alors il n’y aurait qu’une seule source de #culpabilité_morale, et même les actes de violence commis par les Palestiniens ne seraient pas vraiment les leurs. Ce n’est pas rendre compte de l’autonomie d’action des Palestiniens.

    La nécessité de séparer la compréhension de la violence omniprésente et permanente de l’État israélien de toute justification de la violence est absolument cruciale si nous voulons comprendre quels peuvent être les autres moyens de renverser le #système_colonial, mettre fin aux #arrestations_arbitraires et à la #torture dans les prisons israéliennes, et arrêter le siège de Gaza, où l’eau et la nourriture sont rationnés par l’État-nation qui contrôle ses frontières. Autrement dit, la question de savoir quel monde est encore possible pour tous les habitants de la région dépend des moyens dont il sera mis fin au système colonial et au pouvoir des colons. Hamas a répondu de façon atroce et terrifiante à cette question, mais il y a bien d’autres façons d’y répondre.

    Si, en revanche, il nous est interdit de parler de « l’#occupation », comme dans une sorte de Denkverbot allemand, si nous ne pouvons pas même poser le débat sur la question de savoir si le joug militaire israélien sur la région relève du #colonialisme ou de l’#apartheid_racial, alors nous ne pouvons espérer comprendre ni le passé, ni le présent, ni l’avenir. Et beaucoup de gens qui regardent le carnage dans les médias sont totalement désespérés. Or une des raisons de ce #désespoir est précisément qu’ils regardent les #médias, et vivent dans le monde sensationnel et immédiat de l’#indignation_morale absolue. Il faut du temps pour une autre #morale_politique, il faut de la patience et du courage pour apprendre et nommer les choses, et nous avons besoin de tout cela pour que notre condamnation puisse être accompagnée d’une vision proprement morale.

    Je m’oppose aux violences que le Hamas a commises, et ne leur trouve aucune excuse. Quand je dis cela, je prends une position morale et politique claire. Je n’équivoque pas lorsque je réfléchis sur ce que cette condamnation implique et présuppose. Quiconque me rejoint dans cette position se demande peut-être si la condamnation morale doit reposer sur une compréhension de ce qui est condamné. On pourrait répondre que non, que je n’ai rien besoin de connaître du Hamas ou de la Palestine pour savoir que ce qu’ils ont fait est mal et pour le condamner. Et si l’on s’arrête là, si l’on se contente des représentations fournies par les médias, sans jamais se demander si elles sont réellement utiles et exactes, et si le cadre utilisé permet à toutes les histoires d’être racontées, alors on se résout à une certaine ignorance et l’on fait confiance aux cadres existants. Après tout, nous sommes tous très occupés, et nous n’avons pas tous le temps d’être des historiens ou des sociologues. C’est une manière possible de vivre et de penser, et beaucoup de gens bien-intentionnés vivent effectivement ainsi, mais à quel prix ?

    Que nous faudrait-il dire et faire, en revanche, si notre morale et notre politique ne s’arrêtaient pas à l’acte de condamnation ? Si nous continuions, malgré tout, de nous intéresser à la question de savoir quelles sont les formes de vie qui pourraient libérer la région de violences comme celles-ci ? Et si, en plus de condamner les crimes gratuits, nous voulions créer un futur dans lequel ce genre de violences n’aurait plus cours ? C’est une aspiration normative qui va bien au-delà de la condamnation momentanée. Pour y parvenir, il nous faut absolument connaître l’histoire de la situation : l’histoire de la formation du Hamas comme groupe militant, dans l’abattement total, après Oslo, pour tous les habitants de Gaza à qui les promesses de gouvernement autonome n’ont jamais été honorées ; l’histoire de la formation des autres groupes palestiniens, de leurs tactiques et de leurs objectifs ; l’histoire enfin du peuple palestinien lui-même, de ses aspirations à la liberté et au #droit_à_l’autodétermination, de son désir de se libérer du régime colonial et de la violence militaire et carcérale permanente. Alors, si le Hamas était dissous ou s’il était remplacé par des groupes non-violents aspirant à la #cohabitation, nous pourrions prendre part à la lutte pour une Palestine libre.

    Quant à ceux dont les préoccupations morales se limitent à la seule condamnation, comprendre la situation n’est pas un objectif. Leur indignation morale est à la fois présentiste et anti-intellectuelle. Et pourtant, l’indignation peut aussi amener quelqu’un à ouvrir des livres d’histoire pour essayer de comprendre comment un événement comme celui-ci a pu arriver, et si les conditions pourraient changer de telle sorte qu’un avenir de violence ne soit pas le seul avenir possible. Jamais la « contextualisation » ne devrait être considérée comme une activité moralement problématique, même s’il y a des formes de contextualisation qui sont utilisées pour excuser ou disculper. Est-il possible de distinguer ces deux formes de contextualisation ? Ce n’est pas parce que certains pensent que contextualiser des violences atroces ne sert qu’à occulter la violence ou, pire encore, à la rationaliser que nous devrions nous soumettre à l’idée que toute forme de contextualisation est toujours une forme de #relativisme_moral.

    Quand les Groupes Solidarité pour la Palestine de Harvard disent que « le régime d’apartheid est le seul responsable » des attaques du Hamas, ils souscrivent à une conception inacceptable de la responsabilité morale. Il semble que pour comprendre comment s’est produit un événement, et ce qu’il signifie, il nous faille apprendre l’histoire. Cela veut dire qu’il nous incombe tout à la fois d’élargir la perspective au-delà de la terrible fascination du moment et, sans jamais nier l’horreur, de ne pas laisser l’#horreur présente représenter toute l’horreur qu’il y a à représenter, et nous efforcer de savoir, de comprendre et de nous opposer.

    Or les médias d’aujourd’hui, pour la plupart d’entre eux, ne racontent pas les horreurs que vivent les Palestiniens depuis des décennies, les bombardements, les tueries, les attaques et les arrestations arbitraires. Et si les horreurs des derniers jours ont pour les médias une importance morale plus grande que les horreurs des soixante-dix dernières années, alors la réaction morale du moment menace d’empêcher et d’occulter toute compréhension des #injustices_radicales endurées depuis si longtemps par la Palestine occupée et déplacée de force.

    Certains craignent, à juste titre, que toute contextualisation des actes violents commis par le Hamas soit utilisée pour disculper le Hamas, ou que la contextualisation détourne l’attention des horreurs perpétrées. Mais si c’est l’horreur elle-même qui nous amenait à contextualiser ? Où commence cette horreur et où finit-elle ? Si les médias parlent aujourd’hui de « guerre » entre le Hamas et Israël, c’est donc qu’ils proposent un cadre pour comprendre la situation. Ils ont, ainsi, compris la situation à l’avance. Si Gaza est comprise comme étant sous occupation, ou si l’on parle à son sujet de « prison à ciel ouvert », alors c’est une autre interprétation qui est proposée. Cela ressemble à une description, mais le langage contraint ou facilite ce que nous pouvons dire, comment nous pouvons décrire, et ce qui peut être connu.

    Oui, la langue peut décrire, mais elle n’acquiert le pouvoir de le faire que si elle se conforme aux limites qui sont imposées à ce qui est dicible. S’il est décidé que nous n’avons pas besoin de savoir combien d’enfants et d’adolescents palestiniens ont été tués en Cisjordanie et à Gaza cette année ou pendant toutes les années de l’occupation, que ces informations ne sont pas importantes pour comprendre ou qualifier les attaques contre Israël, et les assassinats d’Israéliens, alors il est décidé que nous ne voulons pas connaître l’histoire des violences, du #deuil et de l’indignation telle qu’est vécue par les Palestiniens.

    Une amie israélienne, qui se qualifie elle-même d’« antisioniste », écrit en ligne qu’elle est terrifiée pour sa famille et pour ses amis, et qu’elle a perdu des proches. Et nous devrions tous être de tout cœur avec elle, comme je le suis bien évidemment. Cela est terrible. Sans équivoque. Et pourtant, il n’est pas un moment où sa propre expérience de l’horreur et de la perte de proches ou d’amis est imaginé comme pouvant être ce qu’une Palestinienne éprouve ou a éprouvé de son côté après des années de bombardement, d’incarcération et de violence militaire. Je suis moi aussi une Juive, qui vit avec un #traumatisme_transgénérationnel à la suite des atrocités commises contre des personnes comme moi. Mais ces atrocités ont aussi été commises contre des personnes qui ne sont pas comme moi. Je n’ai pas besoin de m’identifier à tel visage ou à tel nom pour nommer les atrocités que je vois. Ou du moins je m’efforce de ne pas le faire.

    Mais le problème, au bout du compte, n’est pas seulement une absence d’#empathie. Car l’empathie prend généralement forme dans un cadre qui permette qu’une identification se fasse, ou une traduction entre l’expérience d’autrui et ma propre expérience. Et si le cadre dominant considère que certaines vies sont plus dignes d’être pleurées que d’autres, alors il s’ensuit que certaines pertes seront plus terribles que d’autres. La question de savoir quelles vies méritent d’être pleurées fait partie intégrante de la question de savoir quelles sont les vies qui sont dignes d’avoir une valeur. Et c’est ici que le #racisme entre en jeu de façon décisive. Car si les Palestiniens sont des « #animaux », comme le répète Netanyahu, et si les Israéliens représentent désormais « le peuple juif », comme le répète Biden (englobant la diaspora juive dans Israël, comme le réclament les réactionnaires), alors les seules personnes dignes d’être pleurées, les seules qui sont éligibles au deuil, sont les Israéliens, car la scène de « guerre » est désormais une scène qui oppose les Juifs aux animaux qui veulent les tuer.

    Ce n’est certainement pas la première fois qu’un groupe de personnes qui veulent se libérer du joug de la #colonisation sont représentées comme des animaux par le colonisateur. Les Israéliens sont-ils des « animaux » quand ils tuent ? Ce cadre raciste de la violence contemporaine rappelle l’opposition coloniale entre les « civilisés » et les « animaux », qui doivent être écrasés ou détruits pour sauvegarder la « civilisation ». Et lorsque nous rappelons l’existence de ce cadre au moment d’affirmer notre condamnation morale, nous nous trouvons impliqué dans la dénonciation d’une forme de racisme qui va bien au-delà de l’énonciation de la structure de la vie quotidienne en Palestine. Et pour cela, une #réparation_radicale est certainement plus que nécessaire.

    Si nous pensons qu’une condamnation morale doive être un acte clair et ponctuel, sans référence à aucun contexte ni aucun savoir, alors nous acceptons inévitablement les termes dans lesquels se fait cette condamnation, la scène sur laquelle les alternatives sont orchestrées. Et dans ce contexte récent qui nous intéresse, accepter ce cadre, c’est reprendre les formes de #racisme_colonial qui font précisément partie du problème structurel à résoudre, de l’#injustice intolérable à surmonter. Nous ne pouvons donc pas refuser l’histoire de l’injustice au nom d’une certitude morale, car nous risquerions alors de commettre d’autres injustices encore, et notre certitude finirait par s’affaisser sur un fondement de moins en moins solide. Pourquoi ne pouvons-nous pas condamner des actes moralement haïssables sans perdre notre capacité de penser, de connaître et de juger ? Nous pouvons certainement faire tout cela, et nous le devons.

    Les actes de violence auxquels nous assistons via les médias sont horribles. Et dans ce moment où toute notre attention est accaparée par ces médias, les violences que nous voyons sont les seules que nous connaissions. Je le répète : nous avons le droit de déplorer ces violences et d’exprimer notre horreur. Cela fait des jours que j’ai mal au ventre à essayer d’écrire sans trouver le sommeil, et tous les gens que je connais vivent dans la peur de ce que va faire demain la machine militaire israélienne, si le #discours_génocidaire de #Netanyahu va se matérialiser par une option nucléaire ou par d’autres tueries de masse de Palestiniens. Je me demande moi-même si nous pouvons pleurer, sans réserve aucune, pour les vies perdues à Tel-Aviv comme pour les vies perdues à Gaza, sans se laisser entraîner dans des débats sur le relativisme et sur les #fausses_équivalences. Peut-être les limites élargies du deuil peuvent-elles contribuer à un idéal d’#égalité substantiel, qui reconnaisse l’égale pleurabilité de toutes les vies, et qui nous porte à protester que ces vies n’auraient pas dû être perdues, qui méritaient de vivre encore et d’être reconnues, à part égale, comme vies.

    Comment pouvons-nous même imaginer la forme future de l’égalité des vivants sans savoir, comme l’a documenté le Bureau de la coordination des affaires humanitaires des Nations unies, que les militaires et les colons israéliens ont tué au minimum 3 752 civils palestiniens depuis 2008 à Gaza et en Cisjordanie, y compris à Jérusalem-Est. Où et quand le monde a-t-il pleuré ces morts ? Et dans les seuls bombardements et attaques d’octobre, 140 enfants palestiniens ont déjà été tués. Beaucoup d’autres trouveront la mort au cours des actions militaires de « #représailles » contre le Hamas dans les jours et les semaines qui viennent.

    Ce n’est pas remettre en cause nos positions morales que de prendre le temps d’apprendre l’histoire de la #violence_coloniale et d’examiner le langage, les récits et les cadres qui servent aujourd’hui à rapporter et expliquer – et interpréter a priori – ce qui se passe dans cette région. Il s’agit là d’un #savoir_critique, mais qui n’a absolument pas pour but de rationaliser les violences existences ou d’en autoriser d’autres. Son but est d’apporter une compréhension plus exacte de la situation que celle proposée par le cadre incontesté du seul moment présent. Peut-être d’autres positions d’#opposition_morale viendront-elles s’ajouter à celles que nous avons déjà acceptées, y compris l’opposition à la violence militaire et policière qui imprègne et sature la vie des Palestiniens dans la région, leur droit à faire le deuil, à connaître et exprimer leur indignation et leur solidarité, à trouver leur propre chemin vers un avenir de liberté ?

    Personnellement, je défends une politique de #non-violence, sachant qu’elle ne peut constituer un principe absolu, qui trouve à s’appliquer en toutes circonstances. Je soutiens que les #luttes_de_libération qui pratiquent la non-violence contribuent à créer le monde non-violent dans lequel nous désirons tous vivre. Je déplore sans équivoque la violence, et en même temps, comme tant d’autres personnes littéralement stupéfiées devant leur télévision, je veux contribuer à imaginer et à lutter pour la justice et pour l’égalité dans la région, une justice et une égalité qui entraîneraient la fin de l’occupation israélienne et la disparition de groupes comme le Hamas, et qui permettrait l’épanouissement de nouvelles formes de justice et de #liberté_politique.

    Sans justice et sans égalité, sans la fin des violences perpétrées par un État, Israël, qui est fondé sur la violence, aucun futur ne peut être imaginé, aucun avenir de #paix_véritable – et je parle ici de paix véritable, pas de la « #paix » qui n’est qu’un euphémisme pour la #normalisation, laquelle signifie maintenir en place les structures de l’injustice, de l’inégalité et du racisme. Un pareil futur ne pourra cependant pas advenir si nous ne sommes pas libres de nommer, de décrire et de nous opposer à toutes les violences, y compris celles de l’État israélien, sous toutes ses formes, et de le faire sans avoir à craindre la censure, la criminalisation ou l’accusation fallacieuse d’antisémitisme.

    Le monde que je désire est un monde qui s’oppose à la normalisation du régime colonial israélien et qui soutient la liberté et l’autodétermination des Palestiniens, un monde qui réaliserait le désir profond de tous les habitants de ces terres de vivre ensemble dans la liberté, la non-violence, la justice et l’égalité. Cet #espoir semble certainement, pour beaucoup, impossible ou naïf. Et pourtant, il faut que certains d’entre nous s’accrochent farouchement à cet espoir, et refusent de croire que les structures qui existent aujourd’hui existeront toujours. Et pour cela, nous avons besoin de nos poètes, de nos rêveurs, de nos fous indomptés, de tous ceux qui savent comment se mobiliser.

    https://aoc.media/opinion/2023/10/12/condamner-la-violence

    ici aussi : https://seenthis.net/messages/1021216

    #à_lire #7_octobre_2023 #génocide

    • Palestinian Lives Matter Too: Jewish Scholar Judith Butler Condemns Israel’s “Genocide” in Gaza

      We speak with philosopher Judith Butler, one of dozens of Jewish American writers and artists who signed an open letter to President Biden calling for an immediate ceasefire in Gaza. “We should all be standing up and objecting and calling for an end to genocide,” says Butler of the Israeli assault. “Until Palestine is free … we will continue to see violence. We will continue to see this structural violence producing this kind of resistance.” Butler is the author of numerous books, including The Force of Nonviolence: An Ethico-Political Bind and Parting Ways: Jewishness and the Critique of Zionism. They are on the advisory board of Jewish Voice for Peace.

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CAbzV40T6yk

  • Letter of support for #Uju_Anya after she was targeted by Jeff Bezos and her employer for her criticism of the Queen’s commitments to colonial violence

    Dear Supporters of Dr. Uju Anya,

    Dr. Uju Anya is a world-renowned Nigerian-Trinidadian-American Associate Professor of Second Language Acquisition at Carnegie Mellon University. Her groundbreaking research focuses on the experiences of African American students in world language education. She brings attention to systemic barriers that African American students face in accessing world language education and the marginalization they experience in world language classrooms. Yet, her research isn’t only focused on these challenges. Her work points to concrete ways of making world language education more equitable. The significance and quality of her scholarship can be seen in the fact that her widely-cited book, Racialized Identities in Second Language Language: Speaking Blackness in Brazil (https://www.routledge.com/Racialized-Identities-in-Second-Language-Learning-Speaking-Blackness-in/Anya/p/book/9780367197469), was awarded the prestigious 2019 American Association for Applied Linguistics First Book Award (https://www.aaal.org/first-book-award).

    Dr. Anya has also been at the forefront of leading efforts to promote diversity, equity and inclusion in the field of applied linguistics, a field that has struggled to diversify and that remains white dominated. She mentors Black students and other students of color, as well as assume leadership roles in a range of professional organizations, such as the American Association for Applied Linguistics where she amplifies the voices of emerging scholars of color. She has also been able to amass a broad social media presence on Twitter that showcases her love of Black people across the Diaspora, her passion for uplifting the voices LGBTQA+ persons, and a space for collective joy.

    The Issue

    On September 8, 2022, shortly before Queen Elizabeth II died at the age of 96, Dr. Anya tweeted her feelings about the queen’s death. As a Black woman who was born in Nigeria, whose family has been directly harmed by the insidious impacts of British imperialism, genocide, and white supremacy, Dr. Anya expressed her pain on her personal Twitter account. Not only did Queen Elizabeth II sit on a throne of Indigenous and Black blood, embedded in the overall legacy of the British monarchy, her actual government presided over and directly facilitated the genocide that Dr. Anya’s parents and siblings barely survived (https://www.dailymaverick.co.za/article/2020-04-29-how-britains-labour-government-facilitated-the-massacre-). This genocide entailed the massacre of more than 3 million Igbo people, including other family members of Dr. Anya. While within public discourse, the term “colonizer” can appear to be an abstract term that people have only read about in history books, Dr. Anya experienced the reverberations of colonial white supremacy first hand. Thus, Queen Elizabeth II was not figuratively but literally her colonizer, and the colonizer of millions of people across the world—and particularly countries in Africa, the Caribbean, and Indian Ocean territories. As if these atrocities weren’t enough, during her tenure, Queen Elizabeth II oversaw ​​the brutal detainment camps in colonial Kenya (https://www.nytimes.com/2022/09/09/world/africa/queen-africa-british-empire.html), banned ‘’coloured or foreign’ staff in the palace (https://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2021/jun/02/buckingham-palace-banned-ethnic-minorities-from-office-roles-papers-rev), and committed her career to the “service of our great imperial family’’ in a 1947 speech in South Africa (https://theconversation.com/five-ways-the-monarchy-has-benefited-from-colonialism-and-slavery-1). Over the course of more than 70 years, the imperial reign of Queen Elizabeth II was inextricably tied to the legacy of the British Empire’s commitment to white supremacy and colonialism.

    Dr. Uju Anya’s tweet, again sent from her personal Twitter account, quickly went viral—largely due to an outpouring of global support from others harmed by the British colonial regime. At the same time, there was also a torrent of criticism as well as targeted harassment directed against Dr. Anya. While “going viral” is not an uncommon occurrence for Dr. Anya or any public intellectual, having a tweet picked up by billionaire Amazon founder, Jeff Bezos was however extraordinary. Bezos did not condemn the words and sentiment of Dr. Anya’s tweet, which would’ve been his right to free speech. Instead, he vilified her by suggesting that her pedagogical, activist, and scholarly contributions are “supposedly” not “working to make the world better.” We beg to differ, as would the many students with improved experiences in world language education and the increasing number of African American students entering applied linguistics because they now see themselves within historically white spaces precisely because of the groundwork laid by Dr. Anya. Although this particular tweet would’ve been highly inappropriate from any person in power, it is particularly pernicious as an attack against a Black Nigerian-Trinidadian-American Professor, coming from a man that has amassed his wealth through global domination and exploitation without regard for the most vulnerable and precarious humans on our planet (https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2021/may/26/amazon-workers-are-rising-up-around-the-world-to-say-enough). This is, frankly, not dissimilar to the British monarchy’s colonial project—Bezos simply remixed the colonial schema through neoliberal racial capitalism, exploitation, and greed.

    The strength of Bezos’ platform is no secret either. With over 5 million followers on Twitter, Bezos has the capacity to impress hundreds of millions of people with a single tweet. Bezos also utilizes his reputation and mass fortune to support university projects across the globe. In the last decade Bezos has made donations to countless universities, including Carnegie Mellon University—Dr. Anya’s home institution. This financial paper trail is highly relevant to Professor Anya’s treatment and the university’s subsequent statement. Now, Dr. Anya faces violent threats, harassment, and abuse.

    Reflections on CMU’s Statement on Dr. Anya’s Tweet

    As colleagues at other institutions, one thing that sticks out to us is that universities have nothing to gain by calling out individual employees on free speech—especially when they can be seen doing it selectively—as is the case for CMU. Professor Anya’s twitter clearly states: “Views are mine.” Yet, her institution took up the charge to admonish a Black woman professor, calling her response to her lived experiences of the real and tangible impacts of colonialism and white supremacy, "offensive and objectionable.” This is unacceptable and dehumanizing. Simultaneously, the institution arguing that Professor Anya’s critical reflections were "not representative of the level of discourse at CMU ’’ forces us to ask: Where is the space for this sort of discourse if not within the free speech that academia purports to uplift? Where else is it safe for students, scholars, and thinkers alike to openly express the horrors of white supremacy, colonial atrocities and genocide? “Who is the ‘we’ referenced here?” asks UPenn Professor, Dr. Nelson Flores (https://twitter.com/nelsonlflores/status/1568217467058544643). And, importantly, “What are the standards of discourse when somebody is speaking truth to their oppressors?”

    (https://twitter.com/ProfeRandolph/status/1568238263579693061?s=20&t=zDodej-DbG_rmHMhjurGtg).

    We also note the strikingly different institutional response to the social media activity of Richard Grenell, a CMU-affiliated senior fellow and Trump official who used his Twitter platform to spread hateful messages and conspiracy theories that have been characterized as sinophobic and antisemitic. When student groups and community members expressed outrage and alarm, CMU President Farnam Jahanian refused to condemn Grennell’s statements and instead expressed strong support for his first amendment rights (https://www.cmu.edu/leadership/president/campus-comms/2020/2020-11-18.html).

    As a counter example to CMU’s deplorable response, Syracuse University’s Chancellor and Dean issued a statement in support of their colleague and employee (https://www.insidehighered.com/news/2021/09/14/syracuse-offers-unequivocal-support-targeted-professor), Dr. Jenn Jackson (another Black woman violently threatened and abused after a viral tweet). Her institution immediately denounced the violent threats against her, refused to sanction or discipline her, and honored her right to free speech. While we by no means think this process was or is perfect, we cite this to note that other peer-institutions have responded in more humane and supportive ways to their Black female faculty. CMU had a choice and their response was a deliberate betrayal against one of their own highly regarded and respected scholars. It has further exposed her to threats of violence.

    Forward and Onward

    The British Monarchy and “The Royal Family” are much more than the weddings, the kids, and the racialized intrafamily drama that American pop culture has seen over the past decade. The British Monarchy has caused and is directly responsible for widespread irreparable harm in the past, now in the present, and likely in the future because the impacts of white supremacy and settler colonialism are insidious. It is inappropriate, harmful, and ahistorical to admonish colonized people or “tell them how they should feel about their colonizer’s health and wellness” as University of Michigan tenured professor, Dr. Ebony Elizabeth Thomas astutely tweeted.

    More than our thoughts and prayers, we request actionable support to be shown towards Professor Uju Anya. We ask university officials at CMU to consider what harms are both elided from critical discourse and reproduced in the classroom when they choose to stand on the side of the oppressor. Universities must be intentional about how they respond to public discourse and critically evaluate who they are targeting and/or harming by their response or lack of response. We call on universities to stop being reactive when issues of structural oppression are called to their attention and take seriously its impacts on staff, faculty, students, and families.

    In closing, we echo Dr. Nelson Flores’ tweet from September 9th (https://twitter.com/nelsonlflores/status/1568242131067625472), which asks, “Whose deaths are mourned versus ignored or celebrated,” and who gets to decide?

    Signed,

    Chelsey R. Carter, PhD, MPH (Assistant Professor, Yale University)

    Nelson Flores, PhD (Associate Professor, University of Pennsylvania)

    Sirry Alang, PhD (Associate Professor, University of Pittsburgh)

    Crystal M. Fleming, PhD (Professor, Stony Brook University)

    Dick Powis, PhD (Postdoctoral Fellow, University of South Florida)

    https://docs.google.com/document/u/1/d/e/2PACX-1vRFMu3jSCsN44H13pWc_hkLBNwKLmXvWd63U7nXIu1JYPwygdDS6nWuWHeIcG5HUr8lyw_1W_YUJniJ/pub?urp=gmail_link

    #lettre_ouverte #violence_coloniale #critique #monarchie #Elizabeth_II #UK #Angleterre #colonialisme #colonisation #ne_critiquez_pas_la_monarchie

    ping @cede @karine4 @_kg_

  • Violence coloniale, violence de guerre, violence totalitaire

    The conquest of Ethiopia was the only colonial enterprise overseas carried out by a totalitarian power. Miss-timed in history, it was a war of expansion taking place in a period when decolonization was already underway in several empires. Being a colonial war, it was also a national and total war due to the range of Italian mobilization on the military, political and ideological levels. The question remains : was it war of Fascism or a Fascist war ? This query is dealt with in the present article as seen through the prism of violence. The object is not so much to present an inventory of crimes and massacres perpetuated in Abyssinia – well-known thanks to the historiography of the last thirty years – but to examine the effects of the arbitrariness of Fascist totalitarianism and the “permanent exception” that was colonial rule. Already tested on a large scale by Fascism in Lybia and Somalia, the violence employed in Ethiopia was first a means, as in other colonial contexts, to cause submission and to dominate. However, in studying these administrative modalities from the top echelons of the state to the implementers, it seems that violence was not only a means, but also a value in itself.

    https://www.cairn.info/revue-revue-d-histoire-de-la-shoah-2008-2-page-431.htm?contenu=resume

    #impérialisme #Italie #colonialisme_italien #Italie_coloniale #histoire #colonialisme #colonisation #Italie #violence #violence_coloniale #guerre #violence_totalitaire #Ethiopie #fascisme #domination #arbitraire #exception_permanente

    –—

    ajouté à la métaliste sur la #colonialisme_italien :
    https://seenthis.net/messages/871953

    via @olivier_aubert

    ping @cede @karine4

  • De la #violence_coloniale dans l’#espace_public. Visite du triangle de la #Porte_Dorée à #Paris.

    Ce #guide décolonial nous emmène du côté de la Porte Dorée, à Paris, visiter un « #triangle_colonial » composé de trois #monuments qui offrent un condensé de l’#histoire_coloniale, culturelle, économique, raciale et politique de la France.

    Ce triangle comprend le bâtiment du #Musée_national_de_l’histoire_de_l’immigration, ex-Musée des Colonies inauguré à l’occasion de l’Exposition coloniale de 1931, dont l’immense bas-relief met en scène, « l’air de rien », l’économie extractiviste basée sur l’esclavage et le travail forcé dans les colonies. Face au musée, le deuxième sommet du triangle est le monument à la #mission_Marchand qui, depuis les années 1970, fait régulièrement l’objet d’actions anti-colonialistes allant du tag au plastiquage. Le dernier sommet révèle quant à lui « La France apportant la paix et la prospérité aux colonies » sous les traits de la #déesse_Athéna.

    S’inspirant des bases d’une #pédagogie_critique explorée par les universités de Décoloniser Les Arts (DLA), cet ouvrage revient sur les débats et les luttes menées à travers le monde autour de #statues, célébrant esclavagistes et colonialistes, « au pied desquelles le pouvoir dépose des gerbes de fleurs. »

    Accompagné d’une riche sélection d’images d’archives et ponctué par les interventions visuelles de l’artiste Seumboy Vrainom :€, Françoise Vergès nous livre ici un texte incisif qui propose une nouvelle manière d’aborder la ville.

    https://shed-publishing.com/De-la-violence-coloniale-dans-l-espace-public

    #décolonial #colonisation #colonialisme #urban_matter
    #TRUST #master_TRUST #livre #violence

    ping @cede @isskein @olivier_aubert @_kg_ @karine4

  • #Frantz_Fanon

    Le nom de Frantz Fanon (1925-1961), écrivain, psychiatre et penseur révolutionnaire martiniquais, est indissociable de la #guerre_d’indépendance algérienne et des #luttes_anticoloniales du XXe siècle. Mais qui était vraiment cet homme au destin fulgurant ?
    Nous le découvrons ici à Rome, en août 1961, lors de sa légendaire et mystérieuse rencontre avec Jean-Paul Sartre, qui a accepté de préfacer Les Damnés de la terre, son explosif essai à valeur de manifeste anticolonialiste. Ces trois jours sont d’une intensité dramatique toute particulière : alors que les pays africains accèdent souvent douloureusement à l’indépendance et que se joue le sort de l’Algérie, Fanon, gravement malade, raconte sa vie et ses combats, déplie ses idées, porte la contradiction au célèbre philosophe, accompagné de #Simone_de_Beauvoir et de #Claude_Lanzmann. Fanon et Sartre, c’est la rencontre de deux géants, de deux mondes, de deux couleurs de peau, de deux formes d’engagement. Mais la vérité de l’un est-elle exactement celle de l’autre, sur fond d’amitié et de trahison possible ?
    Ce roman graphique se donne à lire non seulement comme la biographie intellectuelle et politique de Frantz Fanon mais aussi comme une introduction originale à son œuvre, plus actuelle et décisive que jamais.

    https://www.editionsladecouverte.fr/frantz_fanon-9782707198907

    #BD #bande_dessinée #livre

    #indépendance #Algérie #Organisation_armée_secrète (#OAS) #décolonisation #biographie #colonisation #France #souffrance_psychique #syndrome_nord-africain #violence #bicots #violence_coloniale #lutte_armée #agressivité #domination #contre-violence #violence_politique #violence_pulsionnelle #Jean-Paul_Sartre #Sartre #socialthérapie #club_thérapeutique_de_Saint-Alban #François_Tosquelles #Saint-Alban #Septfonds #narcothérapie #négritude #école_d'Alger #Blida #primitivisme #psychiatrie_coloniale #insulinothérapie #cure_de_Sakel #sismothérapie #choc #autonomie #révolution #Consciences_Maghrébines #André_Mandouze #Amitiés_Algériennes #Wilaya #Association_de_la_jeunesse_algérienne_pour_l'action_sociale (#AJASS) #Alice_Cherki #maquis #montagne_de_Chréa #torture #attentats #ALN #FLN #El_Moudjahid #congrès_de_la_Soummam #pacification_coloniale #Septième_Wilaya #massacre_de_Melouze #opération_Bleuite #histoire