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Thousands of demonstrators took to the streets of Berlin's central district on November 4 for a pro-Palestinian rally.
Ich bin ein Berliner
In 1961, at the height of the Cold War, Soviet leader Nikita Khruschev urged East German authorities to build a wall in Berlin to stop the westward exodus and to separate a communist Eastern Europe from the democratic West.
Two years later, standing on the western side of the rising Berlin Wall, U.S. President John Kennedy gave one of the the 20th century’s most famous speeches to delineate the stakes of democracy and freedom with a personal show of support to individual Berliners who were now physically divided along the Cold War’s frontline; JFK declared “Ich bin ein Berliner”.
I am a Berliner.
Je suis Charlie.
In 2015, Islamic terrorists killed 12 people at the Paris office of the French satirical newspaper Charlie Hebdo, after it had printed offensive cartoons depicting the prophet Muhammed.
To stand with those killed for exercising their freedom of speech, some two million people marched in Paris, carrying the slogan “Je suis Charlie.” Others had placards that read “Je suis Ahmed” to honor Ahmed Merabet, a Muslim police officer also killed by the attackers. There were also signs that read “Je suis Juif” to stand in solidarity with the Jewish community of Paris that was targeted at a Kosher supermarket by the same terror group that organized the Charlie Hebdo attack.
I am Charlie
I am Ahmed
I am Jewish
The Power of Words
Such declarations become iconic, and continue to resonate over time as the issues they embody are still with us. It’s also a natural human tendency to sympathize with the enslaved, the oppressed, the persecuted, the underdog … or at least, those we see as the underdog.
Out of compassion and a sense of fair play, we support David over Goliath. But in an ironic reversal of roles, some of the most acclaimed oppressed or persecuted of the early 20th century have slowly – over the course of decades and emboldened by unconditional support from the West – become the oppressors. David has become Goliath.
We must be able to make the distinction between anti-Zionism from anti-Semitism.
Now freedom of expression is being curtailed in the US. Pro-Palestine protests on university campuses have been discouraged by the government, while campus administration and protesters are being targeted by pro-Zionist entities.
University chapters of pro-Palestine groups (such as Justice in Palestine and Jewish Voice for Peace) have been banned on some campuses. This sets a poor example from a country that presents itself as an exemplar of freedom, equality, and justice.
We must be able to make the distinction between anti-Zionism from anti-Semitism. Rohini Hensman writes “Anti-Semitism is racism against Jews. Zionism is racism against Palestinians, Arabs and Muslims.”
I am Palestinian.
the world. Since then, they have been increasingly more oppressed and humiliated. Since 2007, even their physical movements have been severely restricted; Gaza has been described as an ‘open-air’ prison. For years they’ve been dying at a rate of 20 to 1…
Today, they are being bombed and massacred. During the Oct.7 attack last month – which much of Western media treats as the beginning of the story – over 1,200 Israelis were killed by Hamas. In response, to date, more than 11,000 Palestinians have been killed by Israeli forces, including over 4,500 children. Among the dead are also 53 journalists; some suspect these may be targeted killings in an attempt to curb news coming out of Gaza.
As though only Israeli lives matter.
Perhaps the dead in this siege are the lucky ones; the survivors are living in the rubble, injured and displaced, starved of food, water, fuel, and medical services, denied humanitarian aid, and made to watch what remains of their families suffer under continued Israeli bombings.
The president of the ICRC has called it “a catastrophic failing that the world must not tolerate”. Other international organizations – like WHO and UNICEF – concur. In the meantime, foreign governments watch impotently, some repeating the phrase, “Israel has the right to defend itself” – as though only the Israeli cause is valid, as though Israelis have a monopoly on morality, as though only Israeli lives matter.
Over the past weeks, governments have begun to react in the face of the slaughter: Bolivia was the first to break off diplomatic ties with Israel – followed by Honduras, Columbia, Chile, Bahrain, Jordan, Turkey, and most recently South Africa.
More importantly, an increasing number of people worldwide – unhindered by any self-serving agenda, motivated by empathy and compassion – are getting a better understanding of this conflict, are rightly outraged, and are protesting at the indefensible injustice of the situation.
Despite official attempts at surpression, there have been protests in support of Palestinians around the world – including on the streets of New York, Wellington, Rome, Baghdad, London, Paris, Berlin, Kuala Lumpur, Istanbul, and Copenhagen, and even virtually on Roblox – demanding a ceasefire, humanitarian aid, and a just course of action for a long suffering people.
“I am Palestinian,” they say.
At the end of the Kubrick classic, when he is hanging on the cross and dying, Spartacus’ wife comes to see him one last time and shows him their newborn child. His name will live on, and so will his struggle.