Editor’s Note: The individual who wrote this Letter was granted anonymity due to the discussion of their sexuality and for their personal protection. If you are interested in publishing an Op-Ed or Letter to the Editor in The Michigan Daily, please read our new policy for requests for author anonymity.
Content warning: Footage of violence and graphic content
On June 20, 2023, a Statement correspondent for The Michigan Daily published a dreamy story about their trip with their girlfriend to Tel Aviv, Israel. In it, they detailed two fun-packed days of celebration, camaraderie and delicious food in a world of “unconditional acceptance.” On June 19, one day before this article came out, a military raid in the Palestinian refugee camp of Jenin left five dead and nearly 100 injured. Among those dead was 15-year-old Sadeel Naghniyeh, who was shot by the military inside of her own home. The next night, following a retaliatory shooting in the illegal settlement of Eli which killed four, hundreds of Israeli settlers flooded Palestinian towns. Backed by the Israeli Defense Force, they set out on a rampage that Israeli human rights group B’Tselem described as a “pogrom.” These attacks continued for four nights, encouraged by military complicity and support from politicians.
Immediately, videos began circulating of settlers trashing and burning Palestinian cars, houses, businesses and mosques. In one video, a group of settlers wearing black masks stand on a street outside of the Palestinian village of Um Safa, jeering and haphazardly shooting guns towards the town. Screams can be heard in the background. Another video shows settlers flooding into an eerily empty sunny village street. Black smoke billows past the camera as two of them, armed with guns, shoot at random down the streets. A third video shows military occupation forces firing tear gas at a Red Crescent ambulance in an attempt to block its route into Um Safa. Photos from the day after the attacks show piles of burnt cars, ruined fields and hundreds of completely innocent Palestinian lives destroyed by unrestrained violence.
I can’t help but think of these events while I read the author’s article. In the third-to-last paragraph, one sentence really sticks out to me: “In the spaces where we have control, why illuminate those opposing voices?” I think about that while I hear the deafening silence coming from the world around me. Amid the controversial media frenzy surrounding the OceanGate submersible, I had not heard a word about the attacks until I opened Instagram on my laptop. Palestinian voices are not being illuminated. The author’s question replays in my head.
My identity would not be accepted in most Middle Eastern and North African countries, including my own country of origin. The tumultuous geopolitical climate left by decades of war and the Arab Spring has fueled a surge in right-wing governments, making the Arab world an especially unwelcoming place for its Queer community. This is a point that’s seized upon often by Zionists; I remember, during a silent protest against a Birthright trip organized by the University of Michigan, how a girl angrily spat that us “women and gays” would be “stoned to death” in the Middle East. But, far from the shining “Schitt’s Creek” of acceptance painted in the author’s article, Israel itself is also experiencing a spike in Queerphobic, religious and racist hate crimes as religious extremists rise to power. The day before the author’s piece was published, a member of Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s coalition made international headlines when he declared homosexuality the “most dangerous thing for the State of Israel.”
At its core, despite what many on both sides would proclaim, the mission for justice in Palestine is not a battle between religions. It is not a holy war, the oft-cited excuse for hatred and accusations spat from either side. Justice for Palestine is based upon the freedom of people to not be governed by the religion of others. And in that sense, the existence of Israel would set a damning precedent against LGBTQ+ freedom. Across the United States, conservative politicians are forcing dangerous laws restricting the freedom of knowledge and expression of others on the basis of their own religious beliefs. I am certain that the author is as frustrated as I am at the idea of having to comply with the authority of someone else’s religion. How is the idea of forcing Palestinians out of their homes for the crime of not being Jewish any more bearable of a thought?
“Tel Aviv is a wonderful city with wonderful people,” the author writes. That’s not something I can or want to argue with. Some of the most powerful voices against Israel’s brutality come from Israelis and Jews themselves, who are indispensable to the pro-Palestinian movement. But in the author’s article, they generalize the voices speaking against Israel as “hate,” “prejudice” and “rotten beliefs.” “Absence is powerful,” they write, a cheeky retort to the criticism they likely anticipate. Predictably, their story is absent of any mention of Palestinian suffering. I do not think opposing voices should be absent on such an issue.
That author could be right. Israel could have the most fun Pride parade in the world and I might be missing out on the best summer days of my life. But the difference between Pride celebrations in Tel Aviv and those in New York, Philadelphia, Los Angeles, Dallas or any of the other cities I’ve been to is that they will never be enough to convince me to fund Israel’s oppression. To any other members of the LGBTQ+ community who may be reading this: Our rights lie in intersectionality and solidarity. A country which does not respect the rights of Palestinians to exist on their own land will only ever pretend to accept us as long as we blindly support them back. At its core, Israel’s philosophy is the same as that used by American conservatives. Justice for our community can only be absolutely achieved if we achieve justice for all oppressed peoples. I want you to think about that when you read the article.
The author of this piece chose to remain anonymous.