The Ethics of Resistance

Strip a people of all freedoms. Take their land, kill their children and their loved ones, control their livelihoods, and prevent free movement. Strip them of their humanity. Occupy them. Deprive them of any form of justice. Do not, by any means, hold their aggressors accountable for their aggressions. Acknowledge the aggressor. Support the aggressor. Celebrate the aggressor. Do this for 66 years.

Then dictate to the occupied people the ethics of resistance.

Better yet, give them a list of the forms of resistance that are not allowed. Label those forms as terrorism. Do not tell them what you might consider to be “acceptable” resistance. Imply that non-violent compliance in the face of the complete annihilation of their civilization is the only form of resistance acceptable.

Tell them they must negotiate with the aggressor. Tell them they must accept all the conditions of their aggressor and cannot make conditions of their own. Tell them their people will not have the right to return but give every person in the world who belongs to the same religion of the aggressor the right to citizenship in the newly formed country.

Go to the movies. Cheer along as Hollywood glorifies American resistance fighters as they combat alien invaders, apes, and sometimes other humans. Then come home, turn on the television, and listen to American commentators and analysts deny the aforementioned occupied peoples, living under the worst conditions known to the human race, their right to resist.

Terrorize anyone who shows support to the occupied people. Label them. Demonize them. Threaten them. Call them terrorists and terrorist supporters.

Let’s you and I, sitting safely in our homes cuddling our children happily in our laps, discuss the ethics of resistance.

And let us not mention, once, the “ethics” of aggression and occupation.

 

Very miscellaneous thoughts and random posts from my Facebook page

• When I watch a group of non-Arabs dance to Western music, I usually tsk tsk them under my breath and fantasize that, after disapproving of their dance abilities for awhile, I slowly walk into the center of the dance floor, wave my hand to shoo everybody away, and say, “Move over, everyone. Let me show you how this should be done.” I then break into an elaborate Egyptian belly dance. Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on how you look at it), I did not inherit a single Western or Egyptian dancing gene from my American mother and Egyptian father.
• I’d like to work as a foot model. I really like the idea of making money by showing people my feet.
• I had one of my very strange dreams last night.