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Food Sovereignty
What does Utopia mean to you?
Growing up, I would think of it as a fantasy sort of realm, a way of living. You want to be in a space where everyone feels free to do what they want. There’s no negativity and all resources are shared by all. There’s peace and there’s harmony, throughout. It’s that magical place, that you as a human being, want to aspire to where you have a connection and harmony with not only humans, but with animals and plants as well.
Maybe that’s that’s why we wanted to tackle this question — because Utopia feels like this really perfect faraway ideal that’s almost unattainable, but when we think about community gardens, that almost feels like an applied utopia, a small scale version that we can study and possibly scale up. So how could you, or how would you, apply Utopia to the work that you do in community organizing or community gardening?
I’m doing it right now— living in my world and living my dream, working in community with the friends who shared a dream that we put out into the universe. We said, “One day, we’re gonna farm together,” and now we’re farming together and we live very closely together. We try to provide a safe space for the people that work with us and make it a place that follows our values. We’re rooted in food justice, and it’s something that we strive for. We’re not perfect because we’re human but there are tools and strategies out there that when we do have conflict, we can deal with it holistically. One thing to be very careful about Utopia is the human aspect. You do have frailties, you do have pitfalls, and you do have things that sometimes don’t meet your expectations. The ideal shouldn’t be perfection because then it doesn’t feel real. I remember growing up, and thinking to myself, “Wow, what if I had the ability to clone myself?” And then I say to myself, “Karen, what if everyone was like you? How boring would that be?” So even in Utopia, you have to make space for mistakes and to grow from your mistakes. Mistakes challenge you and and falling down challenges you, so, do we really want to strive for a place where everything is perfect? Or do you want to live in harmony? I wouldn’t say Utopia but harmony is where you’re able to find that level of balance.
I know you work a lot in food justice, which is an ideal for many of us, just like collective liberation is. They are really big ideas, but when I think about a world that’s utopic there IS food justice. So how do you approach those ideas within the work that you do?
Just give people a chance to be human. Give people a chance to have resources and land. Give people that opportunity to be themselves. I find that the world does not look at abundance, or who we are as people, but instead, always looks at scarcity. There’s this idea that if we give something to somebody it’s being taken away from someone else. All we ask for, especially people of color, is opportunity. We’re not taking away anything from anyone. We want what all people want: clean water, fresh food, to be healthy, to have a roof over their head, and the ability to provide for their family. I want to see people, no matter who they are, have the same opportunity as the next person: the same opportunity to buy a house, to live in an apartment, to live in any neighborhood and to have free access, without barriers. I just want people to look at people as being human, instead of judging them by race, religion, ethnicity or wealth. It’s very, very basic. When I walk in the door, the first thing people notice is that I’m Black. The second, that I’m a woman. Those are the two things I’ve been first recognized for all my life and I’ve never had a chance for people to look at me as just being me, just being human. For instance, I look at what is happening in Texas, how the governor has sent people on buses as if they’re products. How do we accept the notion, when people’s relatives came here as immigrants — not my relatives — who came enslaved, but how do we reckon with that when people deny others the same opportunity? There’s so much fear, because for so long you’ve been the oppressor, and now the country is starting to turn brown, diversify and it scares them, because of their own history of oppression and abuse. They’re triggered by brown and Black people in power because they’re afraid that they are going to replicate the oppressor, and do the same thing that they’ve done to us for so many years. So now you have to position yourself to hold on to what you feel is your value. But in the end, you’re going to lose because you cannot stop change. Either you embrace it or it’s going to change without you.
You mentioned that people need the opportunity to have land, clean water, and food, which seems inherently “Utopic” in and of itself, but how do we create access to land?
We have to change the dialogue as well as how we assess land. I had to change my whole concept of land ownership. How do we own land, or own anything when we don’t live long enough? I had to change my framework, because I realized I can no longer say I own anything. I can be a steward of the land, I can take care of it, but we’re not on Earth long enough to own it. We don’t really own anything. We can’t own anything because we’re gone in an instant. When you go on, the house doesn’t go with you. The land doesn’t go with you. You might think that that house is going to be in your house for generations and it might be! But it also might not be. Do you own it? Or do you just happen to be on this earth at this point in time? You can be a caretaker of land, you can have a home and enjoy it, but do you really own it? You don’t own anything—Nature owns it; it goes back to nature. It goes back to the universe.
How do we foster stewardship? Or how do we foster connection, or reconnection to the land? And how did we lose that connection to begin with?
It’s because we thought that Utopia was a house, a backyard, a car, and a job. We lost that connection. And in the end, when Armageddon comes, you can’t eat a car, or jewelry, or Bitcoin. The people who are going to survive are the people who know how to grow food. An orchard or the crops that I’m growing are priceless. We have to get back to the land, back to that call, back to what’s really real and what nourishes us. If we say that we turn to dust when we die and we return to the earth then we have to renew that connection to the earth. We’ve lost that because we were reaching for materialistic things that are empty. Going back to the land, being in the land, and building thankfulness for being a steward of the land is so satisfying. Those that are returning to the land by becoming farmers and caretakers are starting to see that connection again as we work with nature, rather than against it.
How would you say food sovereignty and even generally, just growing our own food and cultivating our connection with the land nurtures our mind body spirit? How is that utopic?
I say each and every day that someone made that long trip along the transatlantic coast, that ocean, that journey for me to be here. The suffering that they had to go through for me to be here means something and I got to tap into that. Someone sacrificed their life so I can be here and be in tune to that. To understand what it takes as a people to try to hold on to that legacy, that history, or how I got to be my being is so, so important. By understanding that then you understand the importance of community and the importance of learning about your legacy and the history in your family. I don’t know who that person was… I’ll find out maybe one day, but someone made a lot of sacrifices… a lot of sacrifice along the way for me to be here. I needed to be here in a place that’s far, far away from my ancestors. We need to stop for a second and acknowledge the ancestral lineage that we all have, and to be mindful of what that means, especially for people of color, and especially for African Americans who didn’t come through Ellis Island. We came here enslaved. So I think about going back and reaching out to that person along the line who gave me life to be here.
How do we reconcile that relationship with the land as peoples whose ancestors were enslaved, as people who are immigrants, as people who are refugees, and as people who are settlers? How do we find connection maybe to a land that’s not ours? And what does that seem like?
It’s not ours! Like I said, I’m farming on land that I can’t say is my land. All I can say is that I know that there are Indigenous people on this land, and they have given me the chance to be a caretaker. And that’s how I look at it. I can’t look at it as “Oh, I’m in Chester, New York, and I’m on land that I have no connection to.” I have been given that land to be a caretaker and I asked their permission to be that caretaker, and I try to take care of that land to the best of my ability.
How can the readers who read your interview apply utopia? How do we build the world that we deserve?
Treat each other with kindness. With love. It is so simple. Kindness and love. Easy, easy, easy, easy, easy, easy.
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{
"article":
{
"title" : "Food Sovereignty",
"author" : "Karen Washington",
"category" : "interviews",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/food-sovereignty",
"date" : "2023-08-25 12:00:00 -0400",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/Newsletter_Banner_KarenWashington.jpg",
"excerpt" : "What does Utopia mean to you?Growing up, I would think of it as a fantasy sort of realm, a way of living. You want to be in a space where everyone feels free to do what they want. There’s no negativity and all resources are shared by all. There’s peace and there’s harmony, throughout. It’s that magical place, that you as a human being, want to aspire to where you have a connection and harmony with not only humans, but with animals and plants as well.",
"content" : "What does Utopia mean to you?Growing up, I would think of it as a fantasy sort of realm, a way of living. You want to be in a space where everyone feels free to do what they want. There’s no negativity and all resources are shared by all. There’s peace and there’s harmony, throughout. It’s that magical place, that you as a human being, want to aspire to where you have a connection and harmony with not only humans, but with animals and plants as well.Maybe that’s that’s why we wanted to tackle this question — because Utopia feels like this really perfect faraway ideal that’s almost unattainable, but when we think about community gardens, that almost feels like an applied utopia, a small scale version that we can study and possibly scale up. So how could you, or how would you, apply Utopia to the work that you do in community organizing or community gardening?I’m doing it right now— living in my world and living my dream, working in community with the friends who shared a dream that we put out into the universe. We said, “One day, we’re gonna farm together,” and now we’re farming together and we live very closely together. We try to provide a safe space for the people that work with us and make it a place that follows our values. We’re rooted in food justice, and it’s something that we strive for. We’re not perfect because we’re human but there are tools and strategies out there that when we do have conflict, we can deal with it holistically. One thing to be very careful about Utopia is the human aspect. You do have frailties, you do have pitfalls, and you do have things that sometimes don’t meet your expectations. The ideal shouldn’t be perfection because then it doesn’t feel real. I remember growing up, and thinking to myself, “Wow, what if I had the ability to clone myself?” And then I say to myself, “Karen, what if everyone was like you? How boring would that be?” So even in Utopia, you have to make space for mistakes and to grow from your mistakes. Mistakes challenge you and and falling down challenges you, so, do we really want to strive for a place where everything is perfect? Or do you want to live in harmony? I wouldn’t say Utopia but harmony is where you’re able to find that level of balance.I know you work a lot in food justice, which is an ideal for many of us, just like collective liberation is. They are really big ideas, but when I think about a world that’s utopic there IS food justice. So how do you approach those ideas within the work that you do?Just give people a chance to be human. Give people a chance to have resources and land. Give people that opportunity to be themselves. I find that the world does not look at abundance, or who we are as people, but instead, always looks at scarcity. There’s this idea that if we give something to somebody it’s being taken away from someone else. All we ask for, especially people of color, is opportunity. We’re not taking away anything from anyone. We want what all people want: clean water, fresh food, to be healthy, to have a roof over their head, and the ability to provide for their family. I want to see people, no matter who they are, have the same opportunity as the next person: the same opportunity to buy a house, to live in an apartment, to live in any neighborhood and to have free access, without barriers. I just want people to look at people as being human, instead of judging them by race, religion, ethnicity or wealth. It’s very, very basic. When I walk in the door, the first thing people notice is that I’m Black. The second, that I’m a woman. Those are the two things I’ve been first recognized for all my life and I’ve never had a chance for people to look at me as just being me, just being human. For instance, I look at what is happening in Texas, how the governor has sent people on buses as if they’re products. How do we accept the notion, when people’s relatives came here as immigrants — not my relatives — who came enslaved, but how do we reckon with that when people deny others the same opportunity? There’s so much fear, because for so long you’ve been the oppressor, and now the country is starting to turn brown, diversify and it scares them, because of their own history of oppression and abuse. They’re triggered by brown and Black people in power because they’re afraid that they are going to replicate the oppressor, and do the same thing that they’ve done to us for so many years. So now you have to position yourself to hold on to what you feel is your value. But in the end, you’re going to lose because you cannot stop change. Either you embrace it or it’s going to change without you.You mentioned that people need the opportunity to have land, clean water, and food, which seems inherently “Utopic” in and of itself, but how do we create access to land?We have to change the dialogue as well as how we assess land. I had to change my whole concept of land ownership. How do we own land, or own anything when we don’t live long enough? I had to change my framework, because I realized I can no longer say I own anything. I can be a steward of the land, I can take care of it, but we’re not on Earth long enough to own it. We don’t really own anything. We can’t own anything because we’re gone in an instant. When you go on, the house doesn’t go with you. The land doesn’t go with you. You might think that that house is going to be in your house for generations and it might be! But it also might not be. Do you own it? Or do you just happen to be on this earth at this point in time? You can be a caretaker of land, you can have a home and enjoy it, but do you really own it? You don’t own anything—Nature owns it; it goes back to nature. It goes back to the universe.How do we foster stewardship? Or how do we foster connection, or reconnection to the land? And how did we lose that connection to begin with?It’s because we thought that Utopia was a house, a backyard, a car, and a job. We lost that connection. And in the end, when Armageddon comes, you can’t eat a car, or jewelry, or Bitcoin. The people who are going to survive are the people who know how to grow food. An orchard or the crops that I’m growing are priceless. We have to get back to the land, back to that call, back to what’s really real and what nourishes us. If we say that we turn to dust when we die and we return to the earth then we have to renew that connection to the earth. We’ve lost that because we were reaching for materialistic things that are empty. Going back to the land, being in the land, and building thankfulness for being a steward of the land is so satisfying. Those that are returning to the land by becoming farmers and caretakers are starting to see that connection again as we work with nature, rather than against it.How would you say food sovereignty and even generally, just growing our own food and cultivating our connection with the land nurtures our mind body spirit? How is that utopic?I say each and every day that someone made that long trip along the transatlantic coast, that ocean, that journey for me to be here. The suffering that they had to go through for me to be here means something and I got to tap into that. Someone sacrificed their life so I can be here and be in tune to that. To understand what it takes as a people to try to hold on to that legacy, that history, or how I got to be my being is so, so important. By understanding that then you understand the importance of community and the importance of learning about your legacy and the history in your family. I don’t know who that person was… I’ll find out maybe one day, but someone made a lot of sacrifices… a lot of sacrifice along the way for me to be here. I needed to be here in a place that’s far, far away from my ancestors. We need to stop for a second and acknowledge the ancestral lineage that we all have, and to be mindful of what that means, especially for people of color, and especially for African Americans who didn’t come through Ellis Island. We came here enslaved. So I think about going back and reaching out to that person along the line who gave me life to be here.How do we reconcile that relationship with the land as peoples whose ancestors were enslaved, as people who are immigrants, as people who are refugees, and as people who are settlers? How do we find connection maybe to a land that’s not ours? And what does that seem like?It’s not ours! Like I said, I’m farming on land that I can’t say is my land. All I can say is that I know that there are Indigenous people on this land, and they have given me the chance to be a caretaker. And that’s how I look at it. I can’t look at it as “Oh, I’m in Chester, New York, and I’m on land that I have no connection to.” I have been given that land to be a caretaker and I asked their permission to be that caretaker, and I try to take care of that land to the best of my ability.How can the readers who read your interview apply utopia? How do we build the world that we deserve?Treat each other with kindness. With love. It is so simple. Kindness and love. Easy, easy, easy, easy, easy, easy."
}
,
"relatedposts": [
{
"title" : "Malcolm X and Islam: U.S. Islamophobia Didn’t Start with 9/11",
"author" : "Collis Browne",
"category" : "",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/malcolm-x-and-islam",
"date" : "2025-11-27 14:58:00 -0500",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/life-malcolm-3.jpg",
"excerpt" : "",
"content" : "Anti-Muslim hate has been deeply engrained and intertwined with anti-Black racism in the United States for well over 60 years, far longer than most of us are taught or are aware.As the EIP team dug into design research for the new magazine format of our first anniversary issue, we revisited 1960s issues of LIFE magazine—and landed on the March 1965 edition, published just after the assassination of Malcolm X.The reporting is staggering in its openness: blatantly anti-Black and anti-Muslim in a way that normalizes white supremacy at its most fundamental level. The anti-Blackness, while horrifying, is not surprising. This was a moment when, despite the formal dismantling of Jim Crow, more than 10,000 “sundown towns” still existed across the country, segregation remained the norm, and racial terror structured daily life.What shocked our team was the nakedness of the anti-Muslim propaganda.This was not yet framed as anti-Arab in the way Western Islamophobia is often framed today. Arab and Middle Eastern people were not present in the narrative at all. Instead, what was being targeted was organized resistance to white supremacy—specifically, the adoption of Islam by Black communities as a source of political power, dignity, and self-determination. From this moment, we can trace a clear ideological line from anti-Muslim sentiment rooted in anti-Black racism in the 1960s to the anti-Arab, anti-MENA, and anti-SWANA racism that saturates Western culture today.The reporting leaned heavily on familiar colonial tropes: the implication of “inter-tribal” violence, the suggestion that resistance to white supremacy is itself a form of reverse racism or inherent aggression, and the detached, almost smug tone surrounding the violent death of a cultural leader.Of course, the Nation of Islam and Elijah Muhammad represent only expressions within an immense and diverse global Muslim world—spanning Morocco, Sudan, the Gulf, Iraq, Pakistan, Indonesia, and far beyond. Yet U.S. cultural and military power has long blurred these distinctions, collapsing complexity into a singular enemy image.It is worth naming this history clearly and connecting the dots: U.S. Islamophobia did not begin with 9/11. It is rooted in a much older racial project—one that has always braided anti-Blackness and anti-Muslim sentiment together in service of white supremacy, at home and abroad."
}
,
{
"title" : "The Billionaire Who Bought the Met Gala: What the Bezoses’ Check Means for Fashion’s Future",
"author" : "Louis Pisano",
"category" : "",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/the-billionaire-who-bought-the-met-gala",
"date" : "2025-11-27 10:41:00 -0500",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/Cover_EIP_TBesos_MET_Galajpg.jpg",
"excerpt" : "On the morning of November 17, 2025, the Metropolitan Museum of Art announced that Jeff Bezos and Lauren Sánchez Bezos would serve as the sole lead sponsors of the 2026 Met Gala and its accompanying Costume Institute exhibition, “Costume Art”. Saint Laurent and Condé Nast were listed as supporting partners. To be clear, this is not a co-sponsorship. It is not “in association with.” It is the first time in the modern history of the gala that the headline slot, previously occupied by Louis Vuitton, TikTok, or a discreet old-money surname, has been handed to a tech billionaire and his wife. The donation amount remains undisclosed, but sources familiar with the negotiations place it comfortably north of seven figures, in line with the checks that helped the event raise $22 million last year.",
"content" : "On the morning of November 17, 2025, the Metropolitan Museum of Art announced that Jeff Bezos and Lauren Sánchez Bezos would serve as the sole lead sponsors of the 2026 Met Gala and its accompanying Costume Institute exhibition, “Costume Art”. Saint Laurent and Condé Nast were listed as supporting partners. To be clear, this is not a co-sponsorship. It is not “in association with.” It is the first time in the modern history of the gala that the headline slot, previously occupied by Louis Vuitton, TikTok, or a discreet old-money surname, has been handed to a tech billionaire and his wife. The donation amount remains undisclosed, but sources familiar with the negotiations place it comfortably north of seven figures, in line with the checks that helped the event raise $22 million last year.Within hours of the announcement, the Met’s Instagram post was overrun with comments proclaiming the gala “dead.” On TikTok and X, users paired declarations of late-stage capitalism with memes of the museum staircase wrapped in Amazon boxes. Not that this was unexpected. Anyone paying attention could see it coming for over a decade.When billionaires like Bezos, whose Amazon warehouses reported injury rates nearly double the industry average in 2024 and whose fashion supply chain has been linked to forced labor and poverty wages globally, acquire influence over prestigious institutions like the Met Museum through sponsorships, it risks commodifying fashion as a tool for not only personal but corporate image-laundering. To put it simply: who’s going to bite the hand that feeds them? Designers, editors, and curators will have little choice but to turn a blind eye to keep the money flowing and the lights on.Back in 2012, Amazon co-chaired the “Schiaparelli and Prada” gala, and honorary chair Jeff Bezos showed up in a perfectly respectable tux with then-wife MacKenzie Scott by his side and an Anna Wintour-advised pocket square. After his divorce from Scott in 2019, Bezos made a solo appearance at the Met Gala, signaling that he was becoming a familiar presence in fashion circles on his own. Of course, by that point, he already had Lauren Sánchez. Fast forward to 2020: print advertising was crumbling, and Anna Wintour co-signed The Drop, a set of limited CFDA collections sold exclusively on Amazon, giving the company a veneer of fashion credibility. By 2024, Sánchez made her Met debut in a mirrored Oscar de la Renta gown personally approved by Wintour, signaling that the Bezos orbit was now squarely inside the fashion world.Then, the political world started to catch up, as it always does. In January 2025, Sánchez and Bezos sat three rows behind President-elect Donald Trump at the inauguration. Amazon wrote a one-million-dollar check to Trump’s inaugural fund, and Bezos, once mocked by Trump as “Jeff Bozo,” publicly congratulated Trump on an “extraordinary political comeback.” By June 2025, Bezos and Sánchez became cultural and political mainstays: Sánchez married Bezos in Venice, wearing a Dolce & Gabbana gown Wintour had helped select. This landed Sánchez the digital cover of American Vogue almost immediately afterward. Wintour quietly handed day-to-day control of the magazine to Chloe Malle but kept the Met Gala, the global title, and her Condé Nast equity stake, cementing a new era of fashion power where money, influence, and optics are inseparable.Underneath all of it, the quiet hum of Amazon’s fashion machine continued to whirr. By 2024, the company already controlled 16.2 percent of every dollar Americans spent on clothing, footwear, and accessories—more than Walmart, Target, Macy’s, and Nordstrom combined. That same year, it generated $34.7 billion in U.S. apparel and footwear revenue that year, with the women’s category alone on pace to top $40 billion. No legacy house has ever had that volume of real-time data on what people actually try on, keep, or return in shame. Amazon can react in weeks rather than seasons, reordering winning pieces, tweaking existing ones, and killing unpopular options before they’re even produced at scale.Wintour did more than simply observe this shift; she engineered a soft landing by bringing Amazon in when it was still somewhat uncool and seen mostly as a discount retailer, lending it credibility when it needed legitimacy, and spending the last two years turning Sánchez from tabloid footnote to Vogue cover star. The Condé Nast sale rumors that began circulating in July 2025, complete with talk of Wintour cashing out her equity and Sánchez taking a creative role, have been denied by every official mouthpiece. But they have also refused to die, because the timeline is simply too tidy.The clearest preview of what billionaire ownership can do to a cultural institution remains Bezos’ other pet project, The Washington Post. Bezos bought it for $250 million in 2013, saved it from bankruptcy, and built it into a profitable digital operation with 2.5 million subscribers. Then, in October 2024, he personally blocked a planned editorial endorsement of Kamala Harris. More than 250,000 subscribers canceled in the following days. By February 2025, the opinion section was restructured around “personal liberties and free markets,” triggering another exodus and the resignation of editorial page editor David Shipley. Former executive editor Marty Baron called it “craven.” The timing, just months after Bezos began warming to the incoming Trump administration, was not lost on anyone. The story didn’t stop there: in the last few days, U.S. Vice President J.D. Vance revealed he had texted Bezos suggesting the hiring of a right-leaning Breitbart journalist, Matthew Boyle, to run the Post’s political coverage. This is a clear signal of how staffing decisions at a storied paper now sit within the same power matrix that funds the Met Gala and shapes culture, media, and politics alike. It’s a tangled, strategic web—all of Bezos’ making.It’s curious that, in the same 30-day window that the Trump DOJ expanded its antitrust inquiry into Amazon, specifically how its algorithms favor its own products over third-party sellers, including many fashion brands, the MET, a city-owned museum, handed the keys of its marquee event to the man whose company now wields outsized influence over designers’ fortunes and faces regulatory scrutiny from the administration he helped reinstall. This is not sponsorship; it’s leverage. Wintour once froze Melania Trump out of Vogue because she could afford to.But she cannot freeze out Sánchez or Bezos. Nor does she want to.So on the first Monday in May, the museum doors will open as they always do for the Met Gala. The carpet will still be red (or whatever color the theme demands). The photographs of celebrities posing in their interpretations of “Costume Art” will still break the internet. Andrew Bolton’s exhibition, roughly 200 objects tracing the dressed body across five millennia, displayed in the newly renamed Condé Nast Galleries, will still be brilliant. But the biggest check will come from the couple who already control 16 percent of America’s clothing spend, who own The Washington Post, and who sat three rows behind Trump at the inauguration. Everything else, guest list tweaks, livestream deals, shoppable moments, will flow from that single source of money and power. That is who now has the final word on the most influential night in American fashion."
}
,
{
"title" : "Communicating Palestine: A Guide for Liberation and Narrative Power",
"author" : "Palestine Institute for Public Diplomacy",
"category" : "essays",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/communicating-palestine",
"date" : "2025-11-25 14:04:00 -0500",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/Cover_EIP_Template-MIT_Engineering_Genocide.jpg",
"excerpt" : "Communication as a Tool of Erasure",
"content" : "Communication as a Tool of ErasureAs new “peace plans” for Palestine are drafted far from Palestinian life, Palestinians find themselves once again spoken for - another reminder of how communication is weaponized to sustain Zionist colonialism. Colonialism doesn’t just seize land; it seizes the story and its agents. From early myths like “a land without a people for a people without a land” to today’s narrative spin that frames Palestinians as “rejecting peace,” the Zionist project has aimed to erase not only a people but also their agency, voice, and narratives.Today, as Israel continues its genocide on the ground, its propaganda apparatus, known as Hasbara (“explanation” in Hebrew), wages a parallel war over narrative in the media, in diplomatic halls, and online. From smear campaigns, to lobbying governments and media outlets, to pressuring digital platforms like Meta, the machinery of erasure is well-funded and relentless.As Edward Said wrote in Blaming the Victim, Zionist success was not just military - it was narrative. They won the global narrative battle long before 1948. Narrative control is not symbolic - it justifies policy, enables displacement, and legitimizes genocide.Our ResponseFor Palestinians, the narrative struggle has never been separate from the struggle for liberation. We recognized that incredible work is already being done to amplify Palestinian narratives and counter disinformation—through platforms like MAKAN, Decolonize Palestine, Let’s Talk Palestine, Newscord, and others. But what was missing was a one-stop toolkit that brings together the best practices and resources across all areas of communication, for everyone who communicates Palestine: media, policymakers, artists, content creators, advocates, and more. A space rooted not in defensiveness, but in reclaiming our agency and our narratives.So we built one.Communicating Palestine is more than a guide; it’s a manifesto for liberatory and decolonised communication. It is the outcome of a Palestinian-led process, woven from the wisdom of focus groups in Ramallah, Battir village, and Dheisheh Refugee Camp as well as journalists, activists and analysts. It centers Palestinian narratives on their own terms, refusing to be defined in reaction to the propaganda that seeks to erase them.What does the guide look like in practice? It’s a one-stop platform for anyone communicating about Palestine—journalists, activists, artists, policymakers. It’s organized into four core sections: Narratives and framings – analysis and recommendations to counter harmful tropes and disinformation. Visual representations – guidance for photographers, artists and video journalists on ethical imagery. **Communication and engagement practices **– tips and tools for ethical reporting and centering Palestinians with dignity, Tools – user-friendly resources that can be day-to-day support in your work. Practical checklists on key take-aways from across the guide Terminology guide for accurate wording and reporting. Photography and video guidelines to avoid harmful visuals. Resources countering disinformation, bias and fallacies. **This is a call to action. **It’s an invitation to unlearn the narratives we’ve been fed, to relearn how to engage with dignity and integrity, and to finally practice a form of communication that doesn’t just talk about justice, but actively builds it—one word, one image, one story at a time."
}
]
}