An Anti-Zionist Talking Points Guide

Talking about Israel’s long-standing apartheid state and oppression of Palestine is difficult; the pushback is intense, the repercussions astounding, and the loss of relationships painful.

Many of you asked for a resource on how to have these difficult conversations, both with yourself and with others. So here you are.

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Toolkit for Israel’s Current Invasion of Palestine

This intention behind this guide is to give you accurate information to employ in conversations with people in your community, at the dinner table with your family, or on social media. My aim is to provide you with a little historical background, social context, and relational intelligence so that you can find and use your own voice in speaking out against what Israel is doing in Palestine. I hope this resource also acts as a springboard to your own study of what’s happening.

A note before beginning: Many people, myself included, were unaware of the full history behind Israel’s ethnic cleansing of Palestine. This is an oversight that we can and should easily remedy by reading and researching the history behind the conflict. This process of inquiry is similar to the one many of us have undertaken to understand the history of racial, gender, and political oppression in Western countries such as the U.S., the U.K, Europe, and Canada.

First, Know The Shape of Your Container

As you contemplate engaging in discussion about this conflict and other geopolitical issues in the world today, it’s helpful to consider the shape of your container. Who are you in the world, and what is the essence of your offering?

I’ll share my personal container. When reading and creating resources, I remind myself that the throughline of my work is the intersection of science, psychology, social equity, justice, and embodiment. I revisit that throughline again and again. I use it as a guide.

I’m also a scholar and an educator. Ultimately, this means that my style on posts and articles is to offer historical background and fully-sourced materials. Your style may be different: You might post from a vantagepoint of passion, or share/repost others’ resources. Knowing your particular passion and skillset helps you employ discernment and conserve energy.

In commenting on geopolitical events, I also embody my family history. As many of you know, my mother was a Polish and Jewish prisoner of war in the Siberian Gulag in World War II beginning at the age of 7. While the Holocaust was happening to Jewish, Romani, and disabled people, a Polish genocide also occurred. More than 5 million Poles died in World War II, of which 2.5 million were Polish Jews like my mother. Two years after the war began, when the Allies needed the Poles to fight, they executed an agreement with the Soviets (who, after being invaded by Hitler’s army, switched sides), and the women and children were sent to Kazakhstan, Persia, and British East Africa. My mother’s family settled in Uganda, where they remained for many years. At the conclusion of the war, a chunk of Poland the size of Czechoslovakia was given to Belarus, they could not return; many were again resettled in Canada, the U.S., and Britain (where my mother’s family went).

In addition, my father was in the United States regiment that liberated the Dora-Mittelbau concentration camp; he remembered the atrocities he witnessed every day of his life and talked about them often. My father went on to cofound, with Leo Szilard (yes, that Leo), The Council for a Livable World in Washington, D.C.

Both of my parents were activists in their own right.

For these and other reasons, I’m highly attuned to genocide, displacement, and the felt sense of diaspora.

And because my ancestors suffered so I could have the freedom and privilege to speak up, I am decidedly unmoved by the threat of personal or professional repercussions.

Ancestrally, my mother’s father was 100% Ashkenazi Jewish; I am 30%. This doesn’t make me more pro-Jewish than I was before—which was already a lot. And it doesn’t make me any less inclined to question and push back against the harms of Zionism—and, importantly, Zionism is an ideology which differs greatly from the religion and culture of Judaism. For this reason and many others, criticizing Zionism is not the same as being antisemitic—or more accurately, anti-Jewish.

The various threads woven into the throughline of my work mean that I acknowledge and feel tremendous compassion for survivors of the Holocaust, the Polish genocide in World War II, the Native genocides in the U.S. and Canada (and in Europe, South America, and other countries), survivors of and descendants of enslavement, and all forms of epigenetic and present-day trauma.

These threads also mean that in the Israel-Palestine conflict, I choose to center Palestinian epigenetic and present-day trauma because it is an emergency.

I choose to speak out against antisemitism, Islamophobia, and racism to the extent that my social privilege enables me to see them happening.

And these threads mean that I choose to speak directly about Israel’s oppression of the Palestinian people.

My parents’ experiences and epigenetic trauma are part of my story, and precisely why I’m speaking out against the ethnic cleansing and genocide occurring in Palestine.

Who Are You?

This answer to this question might seem self-evident, but it isn’t. The answer(s) can change over time, depending on what’s happening in the world and in your own direct cultural and sociopolitical experience. What is the social location you occupy in this moment, and how does it inform your perspective?

What are the historical and current-life values that bring you to want to speak up on behalf of Palestine? Continuing to reground in these values can help you considerably when facing personal and professional opposition and consequences.

People frequently ask me, “What if I’m not Jewish?”

Whether or not you’re not Jewish, you can still make a significant contribution to the anti-Zionist movement. Consider doing so from the ground of someone who is absolutely and relentlessly committed to racial justice and equity. When anti-racism work is your ground, you’ll be situating all your social justice efforts in this work which, as we’ll see in a moment, happens to be highly relevant to Israel’s oppression of Palestine.

In creating resources (if you do so) and posting on social media, another element of the container is how you engage with people. My approach is a “tough love” approach. If I have a shared history with someone, either personally or online, I let them know I care for them; I invoke our shared history. When I have love for someone personally, I lead with that.

The “tough” part of tough love: I give a lot to my community. These Substack posts, for example, take 1.5 to 2 days per week, every week. My Instagram posts take several hours each to curate. I expect people to read these offerings if they want to engage in serious conversations with me about them. And I expect people to do the hard work of dismantling racism, bias, and prejudice right alongside me.

When people come from a place of earnest inquiry or respectful debate, I engage with them. When I offer resources, I expect people to read them before asking further questions. I set clear boundaries; when people pressure me to stop posting, or they send hate mail or wield a host of other disengaged or violent responses, I block them. I’m not here for everyone; I’m here for people who wish to learn, because learning is one of my greatest passions.

One note: You’d take a very different approach to discussing (or arguing) with a family member with whom you have an ongoing relationship than you would with a close colleague or friend than you would someone who follows you or your work.

With that said, let’s dive into the talking points. Oh- and I’d like to thank everyone who submitted questions via my Instagram stories; you’ll find the answers below.

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The Link Between Liberatory Frameworks

Anyone who has done even a modicum of anti-racism and social justice work will know the discomfort—and reward—inherent in coming to terms with the injustices perpetrated by our country of origin or the country we live in. In the United States, this work includes reckoning with America’s genocide of its First Nations indigenous people. The work includes the transatlantic slave trade and 461 [check] years of the institution of slavery, followed by Jim Cow (define), followed by mass incarceration, voter disenfranchisement, redlining, and the school-to-prison pipeline. And it includes something that many of you know more about, which are the harms done by gender-related violence and discrimination.

This is difficult work, but ultimately necessary work for a free and just society.

The work goes hand in hand with recognizing our social nodes of privilege, and how social privilege enables silence.

I’ll share with you that when I entered into anti-racism work many years ago, it led me into a morass of depression. I didn’t realize the connection until my best friend pointed it out.

The depression passes—until it gets reactivated by a fresh injustice, that is, or by a novel revelation. It’s helpful for me to remember this when I come face to face with Zionism and the similar generations of shared belief, privilege, even indoctrination—and I hope it will be for you, too. But we need also to combat our lack of resilience around this, and to flip the notion:

The discomfort of undoing one’s racism is infinitesimally small in comparison to people who contend with daily oppression and marginalization.

I’m going to suggest that many people struggling right now with criticism of the Israeli state have not fully engaged in anti-racism work. They have not yet experienced, and may not yet be willing to enter, the place of depression that comes with a full understanding of one’s cultural history and with it, the wrongs that one’s culture may have committed against other cultures.

It’s important to have compassion for that while being able to challenge it, to make space for it without indulging it.

And with that, here are some of the more frequent objections, injunctions not to speak up, and/or pressure people experience most often.

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“Don’t Speak Up; You Don’t Know What You’re Talking About.”

Variations on this theme include: If you’re not Jewish, it doesn’t affect you, so keep quiet. If you are Jewish, but don’t live in Israel, you don’t understand, so keep quiet. If you’re Jewish and live in Israel, keep quiet. In other words, keep quiet.  

The injunction to be quiet is losing ground a bit, because so many Jewish people are standing up to advocate for Palestine, and because Palestinians are dying in such staggering numbers. But here’s an example from one of my posts:

“You have no clue of what is going on in Israel or in Gaza. You have never been here. Watching news and posting on Instagram is nothing like living here. I would be more cautious if I were you. It is disrespectful and harmful. It’s easy to talk about ahimsa from Boston.”

This person somehow forgot that I have been to Israel—several times—and have even spent time with them (indeed, broken bread with them) multiple times. In Israel. But underneath their warning is the insinuation that speaking out is doing harm to Jewish people. (This is emotionally manipulative, because those of us speaking out are speaking out about the harm.)

This is also a “moving objection.” [The argument that if we've never been to Israel we can't comment breaks down once we have been to Israel, and turns into "if you're not there now," and so on. That's a key way of silencing people.] Because as soon as you say you have been to Israel, or have family there, etc., the argument becomes “But you are not from Israel” or “You don’t live here now” or “You haven’t lived here as long as I have.”

If you are Israeli or Jewish (or both) and are speaking out against Israel, the argument then becomes, “But you are a self-hating Jew.” Both Gabor Mate and Omar Bartov, among many others, have fully debunked this. So while I no longer indulge this comment, I’ll often directly cite these links. If the commentor is interested, they’ll listen and learn. If not, they won’t.

“My family (whatever # of generations back) suffered through the Holocaust, and we have epigenetic trauma.”

When someone brings up their own epigenetic trauma in the midst of a genocide, or as a reason to continue the violence against Palestinians, the most generous interpretation of their behavior is that they’re signaling that they can’t “see” further into the situation until the trauma is verbally acknowledged. If you wish, do so in a heartful way and then continue with the conversation.  

That said, sometimes the person arguing with you will center Jewish trauma 100 percent of the time, and ignore the presence of Palestinian historical and present-day trauma. This is the approach I’ve seen the most. If I’ve acknowledged the trauma of the Holocaust and they won’t acknowledge the current trauma of Palestinians, and the person is not a family member or loved one, that’s my signal to end the conversation. If you’re at this point and you’re involved in a meaningful relationship with the person in question, it’s a good place to add a pause so they can hear the acknowledgment, and pick up the conversation another time. That said, often this becomes their go-to, default argument, one they rely on no matter how many times their historical trauma is acknowledged.

At this point, you can point out the obvious: Epigenetic trauma does not excuse one population of harming another in any way.

“You Don’t Know The History.”

Usually when someone says that, it’s half true. It may be true that you don’t know the history, but they’re also signaling that they don’t, either.

It’s our job to know the history. I’ve recommended books in previous columns, such as Rashid Khalidi’s One Hundred Years War on Palestine. If you’d like to be guided through the book, Sim Kerns recently did this on their Instagram page. There’s a summary session for each chapter, or you can watch/listen to all the chapters linked together on their YouTube Channel, or their interview with Khalidi here. Highly recommend!

“It’s Complicated”.

No, it’s not. There’s a genocide occurring in Palestine. The complicated part is the hesitancy people have to speak up about it, and the pushback they get when they do.

““You’re posting propaganda. (Often said even if you provide multiple sources.)

Variations: “You’re using left-wing/right-wing/centrist talking points.”

I don’t usually get pushback on my sources from people, in part because I spend endless hours doing research, and they know it. And knowing that people are exposed to “excerpted” history from the time they’re young, I also tend to share mainstream (often Israeli) resources, peer-reviewed scientific journals, and opinions from well-respected Jewish people like Gabor Mate or Holocaust scholar Omar Bartov. I’ve also studied disinformation a bit; I wait to share resources until they’ve been verified. And I take the extra time to share my resources on my Instagram posts and here in my Substack so that there’s no challenge on that level.

If you’ve done your research, and someone calls your info propaganda, that might be a sign to move on.

If someone says you’re using resources that are too left-wing, or uses code words for conspiracy theories like saying you should check out “independent journalism,” take a quick look at their profile and who they follow. (Case in point: the comments section below.) If they follow other conspiracy theorists or disinformation specialists, let them know you see that. And move on, because you won’t get anywhere with them.

“Why do you Hate Israel So Much?”

This is a classic Zionist deflection, one which you can turn around immediately.

The best response is to say: “The question isn’t, ‘Why do I hate Israel so much?’ It’s ‘How can you support a racist, apartheid-centered, ethno-fascist state that has killed tens of thousands of innocent children and civilians, has committed countless war crimes, and is on trial at the International Court of Justice for the charge of committing genocide?”

“You’re Making Things Worse for Israel.”

I’ve heard this one many times. Let’s meditate on it for a moment: Those of us speaking out against genocide are “making it worse” for the nation committing it? Like, should it be our goal to help one nation oppress another? I don’t really take that argument seriously, and I don’t feel it my obligation to respond to it.

I live in the United States—in short, another settler colonial power. Part of what it means to be a good citizen or a good yogi is to cultivate discernment about what our identified nation state does in the world. I frequently criticize the United States for its history of racial apartheid (i.e. enslavement) and for its land theft and political oppression, e.g. its Native genocide. Doing so doesn’t make me anti-American; it makes me a better citizen.

I’ve spoken out against Poland for its poor record of supporting women, people of color, and LGBTQ+ people. That doesn’t make me anti-Polish, or a self-hating Pole.

I’ve spoken out against Russia’s genocide of Ukraine. That doesn’t make me Russo-phobic; it makes me critical of the Russian state. There’s a big difference.

If you get this argument from people, just fill in whatever nation you’ve criticized. (And I hope you have, or will begin, to criticize you “home” nation.)

“To criticize Israel is antisemitic.”

“If you continue to spread hate against Israel, you are giving ammunition to anti-Semites everywhere.”

That’s an actual DM I got from someone—but their statement is misguided, and here's why.

First of all, as with epigenetic trauma, it’s vital to emphasize that true antisemitism (sometimes spelled with a hyphen for reasons I won’t go into here) is a serious matter. Incidents of anti-Jewish hate and prejudice are on the rise in the U.S. and elsewhere, and fears about this prejudice are real. (Incidents of Islamophobia are also rising at an alarming rate. Both are antisemitism.)

Critiquing the actions and policies of the Israeli government is not antisemitic. First of all, Israel is a nation state, and the term antisemitic refers to prejudice against Jewish people. (Actually, people use “Semitic” to indicate Jews, but the term is also used to refer to people who speak Hebrew, Arabic, or Aramaic.) So we should be calling it “anti-Jewish hate” or “anti-Palestinian hate.”

The notion that to criticize Israel is antisemitic (but again, people usually mean anti-Jewish) is problematic, because it diminishes true anti-Jewish prejudice.

It also hews to the idea that all Jews have an attachment to the state of Israel, or are represented by Israel, or represented equally by Israel, and that is untrue.

For more, check out this video by Tony Nabors and this video by Greg J. Stoker on Instagram.

“Anti-Zionism is Antisemitism.”

When the term “anti-Zionism” is conflated with the term “antisemitism,” it is dangerous for society because it discourages dissent and renders it dangerous.

A key component of any democratic society must be the ability to critique its government and that government’s actions. Equating a critique of Israel (a nation state of government) with a critique against a religion (which is harmful) discourages people from important critiques of their government, which are a key component of a democracy.

From its name, fighting antisemitism might seem to indicate fighting prejudice against Jews only. But many Jewish groups say that isn’t the case, and that fighting anti-Jewish bigotry is best done within a collective liberatory framework.

Fighting against antisemitism and fighting for Palestinian liberation are intertwined. Anti-Zionism supports justice for Palestinians, including their right to return to their homes and land (known as the Right of Return). Anti-Zionists believe in a future that embraces liberation for all.

Zionism suggests that in order to ensure their safety, Jews require a supremacist nation state.

But genuine safety is not born from oppression—from checkpoints, guns, walls, land theft, and control of a people’s resources. It derives from the sustained process of solidarity, built over years and even decades, of effort.

The goal of white supremacy is separation and compartmentalization.

“Palestinians voted for Hamas; they asked for this.”

The last elections in Palestine occurred in 2006, nearly 18 years ago.

More than half the Palestinian population is under 18; this means that they did not vote in the last election.

Furthermore, on this episode of the Ezra Klein Show podcast (I’ve renewed my fan-ness), Ezra interviewed Amaney Jamal, the Dean of the Princeton School of Public and International Affairs. Jamal is also the co-founder of the Arab Barometer, a non-partisan research network that has conducted research that provides insight into the social, political, and economic attitudes and values of ordinary citizens across the Arab world. The results of the study, released on October 6 just before the attacks on Israel: Hamas was deeply unpopular.

You can find out more about this in this New York Times article I recently posted in my Instagram stories about Netanyahu propping up Hamas not just for a while, but for many decades.

I also think that people who keep focusing on Hamas, and ignoring the plight of the Palestinian people, would benefit from reading the history of how for decades, Israeli Prime Minister Netanyahu funded Hamas in order to weaken the Palestinian Authority.

You don’t need to search alternative sources for this; you can read about it in this piece in the New York Times, this one in The Guardian, and this one in the Israeli journal Haaretz. Or find it in this segment on Democracy Now (and just about everywhere).

Most people arguing with (or trying to intimidate) you won’t want to read all this about Israel, but I find it to be critically important for understanding that this conflict did not begin on October 7^th. In fact, the conflict is 75 years old, as old as the United Nations convention against genocide.

For those of you who are interested, I recommend this episode of the Ezra Klein Show podcast featuring Nimrod Novik, former advisor to (former) Israeli Prime Minister Shimon Peres. Novik is a fellow at the Israel Policy Forum and a member of the executive committee of Commanders for Israel’s Security. It’s stunningly beautiful and hard-hitting in its assessment of where Israel has gone wrong (and committed crimes) in its engagement with Palestine.

“For a decade, Netanyahu policy was to reward Hamas after every round of violence — more concessions, more easing of the closure after every round of violence. And at the same time, the Palestinian Authority that is being praised by the Israeli security establishment for fighting Hamas on the West Bank is being choked in so many ways, rather than enabled to flourish. So yes, we taught Palestinians a lesson that the only language we understand is the language of Hamas.”

“Israel pulled out of Palestine in 2005 (or 2006, or 2007), so the October 7^th attack was completely out of the blue.”

I’m surprised to hear people still referring to Israel “pulling out” of Palestine as though it is true, when it is patently untrue.

First of all, as I mentioned in my last column, Israel controls the flow of aid, food, water, fuel, medical supplies, and other critical items into and out of Palestine; that’s well-documented. Here’s an article in The Guardian from way back in 2014 that, along with other pieces, documents the fact that Israel has at times restricted food inflow into Gaza:

“The Israeli military made precise calculations of Gaza's daily calorie needs to avoid malnutrition during a blockade imposed on the Palestinian territory between 2007 and mid-2010, according to files the defense ministry released on Wednesday under a court order.”

These are crimes against humanity.

Beyond that, a country that restricts the flow of vital resources into and out of another country, and prevents its citizens from leaving and even from moving in certain areas is an occupying country.  (That blockades on vitally necessary items has continued since 2006 is well-established, and has been discussed by everyone from Gabor Mate to Norm Finkelstein to Ta-Nehisi Coates to Rashid Khalidi to… get my point?)

Israel undertakes continued surveillance on Palestinians, something that dominant (white) cultures do as a means of control and violence toward Black and Brown bodies. (For more on surveillance as a mechanism of oppression, see Simone Brown’s book Dark Matter: On the Surveillance of Blackness.)

Moreover, countless people—Israeli, Palestinian, and others—have documented the fact that Israel has been steadily annexing territory in Palestine, particularly in the West Bank, by supporting settlers in taking Palestinians’ land and houses, often in the most violent of ways. The intention to continue to do so is voiced directly in the Likud Charter. Here’s Nimrod Novik again:

“We believed that nothing demonstrates sincerity of a commitment to a future two-state reality than reversing the annexation by taking small chunks of the West Bank that are now under Israeli control, re-designating them, and turning them to Palestinian Authority control, specifically — and we mapped it out — areas that allow for contiguity among Palestinian areas.”

And again: “At the moment, the West Bank is a Swiss cheese. It’s 169 islands of Palestinian-controlled areas surrounded each by Israeli-controlled territory.”

And here’s an excerpt from a piece in The Intercept:

“Israel has illegally occupied Gaza, the West Bank, and East Jerusalem since 1967. For decades, it maintained both settlements and a regular military presence inside Gaza, as it continues to do in the other territories it occupies. That changed in 2005, when Israel dismantled the settlements in Gaza, withdrew the military, and embarked on what it called a policy of “disengagement.” Since then, Israel has often argued that it is no longer occupying the strip — even as it controls virtually all access of people and goods in and out of it. (Gaza is still considered occupied under international law, given Israel’s near-total domination over it, as evidenced this week by the announcement that it would cut off electricity, fuel, and food from the strip following Hamas’s attack.)”

According to Daniel Siedemann, an Israeli lawyer who The Guardian interviewed, the annexation process has grown so steadily that there are currently 700,000 Israeli settlers in the West Bank. Close to 200,000 of these settles would have to be relocated to Israel to create a viable Palestinian state.

Avner Cohen, Israel’s head of religious affairs in Gaza at the time of Hama’s emergence, told the Wall Street Journal back in 2009, “Hamas, to my great regret, is ‘Israel’s creation.’”

As a mindfulness practitioner I know recently said, “If you want to eliminate Hamas, you need to address the causes and conditions that created it.”

For a little extra credit, check out this incredibly powerful video from the amazing Norm Finkelstein, who is newly on Instagram, about weaponizing the Holocaust.

“Israel has a right to defend itself.”

This argument may sound military (and it is), but it is also emotional; as such, it needs to be addressed on both levels.

First, the military one. Any nation has the right to defend itself. At the same time, nations must adhere to international humanitarian law in exercising that right. Israel is not doing so.

According to international humanitarian law, when you occupy another country, you lose the right to defend yourself.

We might also note that Israel has the world’s 4^th largest military, while Palestine (and even Hamas) has none at all. And we could further explore the point that Israel has access to AI intelligence-driven, high-precision military capability.

The bottom line: What we’re seeing now isn’t self-defense but collective punishment. Israel can easily avoid a mass killing of civilians. They just choose not to.

Furthermore, military experts have pointed out that a “goal” to eliminate Hamas requires not endless aerial bombardment, but on-the-ground intelligence operations. I recently listened to this episode of the New Yok Times The Daily podcast that, to my incredulousness, interviewed leaders of Hamas by traveling not to Palestine, but Beirut and Qatar. Any attempt to eliminate Hamas must incorporate a military strategy that deploys intelligence and the kind of fighting that targets Hamas—and indiscriminate bombing of the civilian population is not the solution.

Finally, the New York Times and The Guardian, along with many other media outlets, have brought to light the fact that a female soldier from Israeli intelligence, along with others, knew of Hamas’s plan and brought it to her superiors, who shared it with the Israeli government. The growing concerns were dismissed, and Hamas’s plans determined to be “aspirational.” The attacks of October 7th were predicted in advance, and that’s where the right to self-defense should have been concentrated.

“We have to kill civilians, because Hamas uses them (and hospitals, schools, etc.) as ‘human shields.’”

This argument is used alarmingly often. International Humanitarian Law holds that it is a war crime to use civilians as “human shields.”

This is one area in which I have to say that my research has yielded surprises. But before I unveil those, let me first say:

The right to defend oneself under international humanitarian law does not ever include harm to civilians, the targeting of U.N. workers and journalists, the shutting off of electricity, fuel, supplies, medical care, the bombing of mosques and sacred cultural sites, blockades against humanitarian aid, or most of the activities the Israeli IDF is committing, even if Hamas or any other group uses civilians as shields.

You can read this directly in the Geneva Conventions and International Humanitarian Law.

But Gabor Mate puts it much more eloquently than I could. Here he is:

"What's happening is a massive war crime. what Israel is doing right now is not in in any way justifiable. It's not a response to what just happened; it's what Israel has always done when there was much less provocation: the killing of large numbers of Palestinians."

And now for the “surprise” (for me it was, anyway).

In this video, Norm Finkelstein discusses Israel’s use of Palestinian civilians as human shields. (Note: This isn’t for the faint of heart, and is more for your understanding than a discussion with others.)

“Israel has a right to ensure its own safety.”

This is the emotional component of the “right to defend” argument. It’s epigenetic, too: When there’s a fairly recent trauma as horrific as the Holocaust, safety is a primal, non-verbal, elemental need. But I’d like to challenge that notion for a moment. (If you’re not up for such a challenge, just scroll down and come back to this another time.)

Here’s a quote from yet another episode of the Ezra Klein Show podcast with author and scholar Tareq Baconi:

“The notion of security has been limited to Israelis. This has been an underpinning demand of the peace process and all diplomatic negotiations. Nowhere is the idea of Palestinian security mentioned, even though we're talking about a nuclear power and advanced military (Israel) occupying a people with no state and without a military (Palestine).”

And now, I’m going to weave the issue of racial justice into the conversation more explicitly. And I’ll do something very inelegant and quote from one of my own Instagram posts:

“When I hear the terms “security” or “safety” invoked so often + in such close concert with violence, I hear them as racial dog whistles.

Consider the U.S. + the atrocities that white people have perpetrated to ensure “safety” against those who they have oppressed. Consider anti-Native laws, religious persecution, stealing children, disproportionate policing, land theft, broken treaties, the rewriting of history—all in the service of ensuring “safety.”

Consider enslavement, followed by Jim Crow (laws in the southern U.S. in the late 19th- early 20th centuries that upheld apartheid + anti-Black racism), mass incarceration and voter suppression, all the service of ensuring “safety” from those white people oppressed.

Witness countless white women like Carolyn Bryant Donham, who accused 14-year-old Emmett Till of making sexual advances; white people responded by kidnapping and lynching him.

Terrible things like these, and like the Holocaust, and continue to be done so oppressors can feel ‘safe.’”

The desire for safety is primal + understandable, but deeply problematic when it causes harm to others.”

I think it’s critical to be able to see, here, that one a key level, as so many scholars and activists and military experts (yes, even Israeli ones) are saying, the state of Israel has oppressed a huge proportion of Arab people for decades, placing them into what Ta-Nehisi Coates and Norm Finkelstein and others have called “concentration camps,” and done all the things I’ve been writing about here as well as other crimes against humanity… and is (justifiably, as people say) afraid of the people whom they have steadfastly oppressed.

This happens with dominant culture and the people they marginalize everywhere,

So you can see that deconstructing one’s identified “nation state” and the injustices that state commits against others is an important part of racial justice.

And I hope it’s also clear that justice for Jewish people, Arab and Muslim people, and Palestinians is also a racial justice issue. And justice for each of these people is equally important, and can’t come at the expense of other people.

Extra: Check out this video from Norm Finkelstein about weaponizing the Holocaust.

Lastly, both scholars and former members of the Israeli military have pointed out that the scale of violence of the current conflict doesn’t make Israel safer. In fact, it may (and is) causing Israel to lose military support around the world, which makes Israel less safe.

The violence is also causing other military groups to launch their own attacks, such as those from the Youthis (Yemen) and Hezbollah (Lebanon).

“They (Palestinians) are all terrorists.”

(Variations: Hamas are all terrorists.) Or, Hamas is the very definition of evil, while Israel represents the “Children of the Light.”)

First of all, to equate Arabs or Palestinians with terrorists (as Zionists, Israeli Ziionist, and Israelis have done) is full-on racist. When people say this, I don’t dignify that with a long discussion. I point out the racism and keep moving.

Sometimes you’ll hear a variation on this, which is, “Hamas are all terrorists.”

When people trot out this argument, it’s usually because they want to a) deflect from the atrocities Israel is committing, or b) get you to say that you love Hamas. I think the entire world has condemned the actions of Hamas, as I have. I say that and keep moving. But people may still accuse you of being a “Hamas supporter,” which means they have nothing more intellectually or morally rigorous to offer, and they know it.

There’s a lot more to add; if people are interested in the history of Hamas, they can read the book Hamas Contained, by Tareq Baconi. (Listen to Tareq on this episode of the Ezra Klein Show podcast. Ezra has been doing great work on having difficult conversations—I recommend each of the episodes he’s done since October 7^th.)

“Israel isn’t racist; we have (insert population of choice here, e.g. Mizrahi Jews, Ethiopian Jews, etc.) living among us peacefully.”

This argument comes up a lot from Zionists. You can immediately inform them that it’s the equivalent of saying, “I have a Black friend(s).” You can also let them know that it’s common knowledge that Israel gave injections of Depo-Provera birth control shots to Ethiopian women without their consent as a condition of emigrating to Israel, to control the population of Ethiopian Jews there and thus limit their voting power. If that’s not racist, what is? Israelis and the Israeli government also commonly use racial slurs and dehumanizing language to depict Palestinians. (Like the “terrorist” term I spoke to directly above.) Palestinians do not have the same rights as Israelis: to hold a passport, come and go as they please, occupy certain areas of public space, marry at will, etc. Plus, Israel is an apartheid regime which is built on the foundation of racism. To learn more about that, check out this article.

“Hamas wants death to all Jews.” (Or: Hamas wants to destroy Israel.)

It’s not easy to counter this argument, not because the argument is factual (it is not), but because it is emotional and understandably based in trauma.

For this reason, it’s helpful to continue to condemn the actions of Hamas on October 7^th, followed by referencing Jewish scholars on the topic of Hamas. Followed by condemning Israel’s crimes against humanity in the case of Palestine.

In his episode on the Ezra Klein show, Nimrod Novik directly addresses this. He refers to Hamas as a militant organization whose charter calls not for “the death of all Jews,” but for an end to Zionism (two very different things) and a return to pre-1967 land boundaries.

One note: If you look up Hamas’s charter, you’ll have to slide through many Israeli-derived sources which get it incorrect, which is why I like the Jewish sources cited above.

“They’re [Hamas] coming for you, too.”

For reasons undecipherable to me, this is usually said by American Jews far removed from the Middle East.

It’s untrue—and in addition, overlooks the significant privilege of people who live in the West and whose nation states have a considerably military, which Hamas does not have. I don’t engage with this one not just because it’s counter-factual, but because it’s meant to scare me into silence, and I won’t be silent.

“We (meaning Jews) stood alongside Black people in the struggle for civil rights. Where are they now, when ‘we’ need them the most?”

I’ve heard many Jewish people give voice to a feeling of great betrayal ‘at the hands of’ African-Americans for not standing with them now. You may not hear this argument much, but if you do, here’s a thought. People say that Jewish people stood with Black Americans on behalf of civil rights in America in the 1960’s…

In this episode of the Ezra Klein Show podcast, I heard Rabbi Shaon Brous give voice to a feeling of betrayal that I've heard echoed by many Jewish people. She said, in effect, that Jewish people had stood alongside Black leaders and citizens on behalf of civil rights in the 60's and beyond, only to be abandoned when they needed Black and Brown people the most. 

In the Black and Brown community, this statement has come to feel controversial. The response I've heard the most is, "In the 60's, Jews stood with us against a racist apartheid regime; why would we stand with them now to uphold such a regime against the Palestinians, who are also Black and Brown?"

“Hamas wants to kill all Jews.” (Variation: The phrase “From the River to the Sea” means the genocide of the Jews.)

Before getting down to the facts, let me put this in perspective. Palestinian women, children, and civilians are being killed. They’re being shot in the United States and elsewhere. And in comparison, freedom slogans and wearing the kuffiyeh is seen as more violent? This is a manifestation of racism.

Now to the issue of what the phrase “From the River to the Sea, Palestine Will Be Free” means. I’ve run out of space for Substack, so I’m going to refer you to the amazing scholar, activist, and author Marc Lamont Hill’s YouTube episode. But you might say that this is both a great source of primal fear, and a double standard. The Ezra Klein Show podcast also mentions it.

Bottom line: On Palestinians’ parts, it’s a call for peaceful co-existence. But Jewish people hear it as a call to genocide. (Again, I’d ask everyone to consider that if any genocide is happening right now (and I believe that it is), it’s the Palestinians who are being genocided—or at the very least, ethnically cleansed.

That’s it for now; hope this has been fruitful for your inner and outer work.

And as we pass 20,000 deaths in Gaza, I hope it gives you the courage to speak out and to call for a ceasefire.

Talking about social violence (like Israel’s) is “bad vibes” (or “unyogic”).

It might seem strange to include this argument here, but there is a Zionist yogi type, and they use it often. The “bad vibes” or “unyogic” argument is a classical example of spiritual bypassing, which is in turn a classic weapon used by the white feminist yoga and wellness brand ambassadors (official or unofficial) to turn away from social injustices. Mention that the highest ethical principle of yoga is ahimsa, or nonviolence—followed closely by satya, truth. That means it’s our yogic duty to speak up truthfully when violence occurs. And see this column column for more on how yoga is not just about individual practice but social change.