Love what we do?
Become a member for unlimited access to EIP digital and print issues, attend Slow Factory’s Open Edu, and support us in continuing to create and publish.
Join us today.
You’re logged in, but don’t have an active membership.
Join Us
All memberships give full digital access, online and in-person events, and support climate justice, human rights, and freedom of expression.
Annual memberships available too!
$20
Member —
All digital access (suggested amount)
$40
Benefactor —
Receive a monthly(ish) printed journal
$100
Movement Builder —
Become an ambassador
Question? Ask us anything!
On The Pleasures Of Living in Gaza
Extract from Chapter 5: Wisdom and Strength of On the Pleasures of Living in Gaza: Remembering a Way of Life Now Destroyed by Mohammed Omer Almoghayer
She dreams of working for a tourism agency to ensure that people with disabilities have full accessibility and can join in all touristic activities.
“I’m lucky to have the support of my father, who has always been there for me,” she says. “The love of a father is the first foundation upon which a daughter builds her world, a source of strength and confident support that shapes her into the per son she becomes. I want to use my passion for technology to make a difference in the lives of people with disabilities. I want to empower them to travel and explore the world without limitations.” She grins brightly as she sips a cup of tea behind her laptop. “My father has shown me anything is possible, and I want to pass on a message of perseverance and possibility to others like me around the world.”
Yasmine has formed a close-knit community of friends who understand her needs and experiences. For her, disability brings people together in a unique way by fostering deep bonds and a sense of empathy otherwise hard to find. Their shared experiences create a special feeling of camaraderie that goes beyond any physical limitation. Not every person with disabilities can meet in person, but they have become more aware of each other’s inspiring journeys through social media groups. There was a time in the past when physical disabilities were stigmatized and even viewed with shame by most families. Now, a shift has taken place in the dominant cultural perspective. People like Ahmed, Aya, Khamis, and Yasmine are part of a community taking root in Gaza that champions the rights and unique skills and wisdom of people with disabilities.
One of the most striking stories I’ve come across is the story of two disabled men who became like one.
On a beautiful spring day in Gaza, Adli and Mansour are in need of a new pair of shoes. Their economic backgrounds are quite divergent, but they have been close since their school days. They pull up on their shared motorcycle outside a local shoe shop and make their way inside on their crutches. Both are excited to try on the latest styles and quickly settle on a pair they both love. They split the cost. Adli pays for the left shoe, which is all he needs, and Mansour pays for the right. They love that they have the same taste in shoes and the same-sized feet, and they laugh and joke with the shop owner, who has never before seen two customers come in to buy a single pair of shoes.
They tell him about a chilly afternoon when Adli noticed Mansour’s shoe looked worn out. He offered to give Mansour his other sneaker, since he didn’t need it and they had lost opposite legs in successive Israeli attacks. Mansour was hesitant, but Adli assured him they had the same shoe size and that the shoe would be comfortable and supportive. After trying on the shoe, Mansour realized it was indeed very comfortable, and he accepted Adli’s kind offer. They’ve been sharing shoes ever since.
I later meet them at a falafel shop, and as they wait for their food, Adli shares his story of fearlessly acting as a first responder during an Israeli attack, only to become a victim him self in a second strike.11 He was brought into the hospital in a coma, and a medical crew pronounced him dead. His broken body was transferred to the morgue.
Adli looks disturbed as he recalls what he was told of these events. Mansour sits silently, listening to his friend tell the story. Adli’s father arrived at the morgue to say a final fare well to his son only to feel Adli’s hand and realize it was warm; his son was still alive. His screams of joy echoed through the hospital as he embraced his son. Miraculously, Adli regained consciousness in the morgue and was returned to the hospital.
The doctors were astonished. Adli needed several operations in various Gulf states to fully recover, with Mansour by his side. Little did Mansour know that he, too, would lose a leg just a few months later.
Mansour’s younger brother witnessed the bombing that maimed Mansour but did not know his own brother was among the victims. He ran back to his house, breathless and shaking, saying, “Someone has been killed!” His mother’s face turned pale and she whispered a solemn prayer for the victim’s family, wishing them patience during this difficult time. Hours later, she learned that the victim was her own son, who had lost a leg and some fingers and had shrapnel in his head.
After recalling such sad memories, the two men eat their falafel sandwiches—Adli’s favorite—in pensive silence. “The only positive thing about being injured has been how it’s strengthened my friendship with Adli,” says Mansour. “We share everything and split expenses—after all, we are one soul with two bodies.”
“My other leg is over there,” Adli jokes, pointing to Mansour. Mansour laughs and responds, “Yes, and that’s my other leg, and I can’t even think of going anywhere without it, or without Adli.”
Adli grins. “Together, we are better than before we were injured.”
Mansour nods, his eyes lively.
They enjoy spending time together, whether it’s shopping, eating, relaxing, strolling along the beach, running errands, or riding their one motorcycle. Living in Shujaiya, in East Gaza City, a region heavily impacted by war, the two men like to walk together from the far eastern border to the seafront in the far west, passing through Gaza’s fishing hub. Despite their physical challenges, the friends continue to do their daily activities together, taking pleasure in the simple joys of life.
Both men get on their motorcycle and head back home, laughing once again and sharing stories that never seem to come to an end.
In this town, people with disabilities are supported and understood in ways often hard to come by elsewhere. They don’t have to fight for access, inclusion, or representation because everyone has sympathy for people whose bodies have been dismembered by Israel’s military hardware, and because the situation is so common. Disability has been normalized. When Adli and Mansour sit on the seafront to chat for hours, people stop and greet them as they watch the rhythmic motion of the waves in the ocean. They find joy in daily life and inspire others in the community to do the same.
Years later I catch up with the two men as we walk under a sycamore tree on Al-Mintar Hill, an area near their homes that overlooks Gaza City. Despite the city’s changes, it still retains a serene beauty, and Gazans try not to let an atmosphere of defeat take hold. In Shujaiya, people’s mode of resilience is to stay, stand firm, and try to enjoy life as best they can despite the odds stacked against them.
Mansour is now married to a wonderful woman named Neda. To his great joy, they are expecting a baby, and his wife is thrilled to have found a job selling homemade sweets online. She’s also happy her husband has the support he needs through his friend Adli.
“We are able to find joy by sharing all we have and continuing to care for one another even through pain,” says Mansour. As for the motorcycle: Mansour handles the gears and Adli steers. Everyone who sees them fly by on the street is amazed by their degree of cooperation.
“When we share a ride, I feel like a whole human body with nothing missing,” Mansour says with a lighthearted laugh as they head toward home with the sunset behind them.
{
"article":
{
"title" : "On The Pleasures Of Living in Gaza",
"author" : "Mohammed Omer Almoghayer",
"category" : "essays",
"tags" : "",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/on-the-pleasures-of-living-in-gaza",
"date" : "2025-06-18 14:26:00 -0400",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/81ia4Zbe0kL.jpg",
"excerpt" : "Extract from Chapter 5: Wisdom and Strength of On the Pleasures of Living in Gaza: Remembering a Way of Life Now Destroyed by Mohammed Omer Almoghayer",
"content" : "Extract from Chapter 5: Wisdom and Strength of On the Pleasures of Living in Gaza: Remembering a Way of Life Now Destroyed by Mohammed Omer AlmoghayerShe dreams of working for a tourism agency to ensure that people with disabilities have full accessibility and can join in all touristic activities.“I’m lucky to have the support of my father, who has always been there for me,” she says. “The love of a father is the first foundation upon which a daughter builds her world, a source of strength and confident support that shapes her into the per son she becomes. I want to use my passion for technology to make a difference in the lives of people with disabilities. I want to empower them to travel and explore the world without limitations.” She grins brightly as she sips a cup of tea behind her laptop. “My father has shown me anything is possible, and I want to pass on a message of perseverance and possibility to others like me around the world.”Yasmine has formed a close-knit community of friends who understand her needs and experiences. For her, disability brings people together in a unique way by fostering deep bonds and a sense of empathy otherwise hard to find. Their shared experiences create a special feeling of camaraderie that goes beyond any physical limitation. Not every person with disabilities can meet in person, but they have become more aware of each other’s inspiring journeys through social media groups. There was a time in the past when physical disabilities were stigmatized and even viewed with shame by most families. Now, a shift has taken place in the dominant cultural perspective. People like Ahmed, Aya, Khamis, and Yasmine are part of a community taking root in Gaza that champions the rights and unique skills and wisdom of people with disabilities.One of the most striking stories I’ve come across is the story of two disabled men who became like one.On a beautiful spring day in Gaza, Adli and Mansour are in need of a new pair of shoes. Their economic backgrounds are quite divergent, but they have been close since their school days. They pull up on their shared motorcycle outside a local shoe shop and make their way inside on their crutches. Both are excited to try on the latest styles and quickly settle on a pair they both love. They split the cost. Adli pays for the left shoe, which is all he needs, and Mansour pays for the right. They love that they have the same taste in shoes and the same-sized feet, and they laugh and joke with the shop owner, who has never before seen two customers come in to buy a single pair of shoes.They tell him about a chilly afternoon when Adli noticed Mansour’s shoe looked worn out. He offered to give Mansour his other sneaker, since he didn’t need it and they had lost opposite legs in successive Israeli attacks. Mansour was hesitant, but Adli assured him they had the same shoe size and that the shoe would be comfortable and supportive. After trying on the shoe, Mansour realized it was indeed very comfortable, and he accepted Adli’s kind offer. They’ve been sharing shoes ever since.I later meet them at a falafel shop, and as they wait for their food, Adli shares his story of fearlessly acting as a first responder during an Israeli attack, only to become a victim him self in a second strike.11 He was brought into the hospital in a coma, and a medical crew pronounced him dead. His broken body was transferred to the morgue.Adli looks disturbed as he recalls what he was told of these events. Mansour sits silently, listening to his friend tell the story. Adli’s father arrived at the morgue to say a final fare well to his son only to feel Adli’s hand and realize it was warm; his son was still alive. His screams of joy echoed through the hospital as he embraced his son. Miraculously, Adli regained consciousness in the morgue and was returned to the hospital.The doctors were astonished. Adli needed several operations in various Gulf states to fully recover, with Mansour by his side. Little did Mansour know that he, too, would lose a leg just a few months later.Mansour’s younger brother witnessed the bombing that maimed Mansour but did not know his own brother was among the victims. He ran back to his house, breathless and shaking, saying, “Someone has been killed!” His mother’s face turned pale and she whispered a solemn prayer for the victim’s family, wishing them patience during this difficult time. Hours later, she learned that the victim was her own son, who had lost a leg and some fingers and had shrapnel in his head.After recalling such sad memories, the two men eat their falafel sandwiches—Adli’s favorite—in pensive silence. “The only positive thing about being injured has been how it’s strengthened my friendship with Adli,” says Mansour. “We share everything and split expenses—after all, we are one soul with two bodies.”“My other leg is over there,” Adli jokes, pointing to Mansour. Mansour laughs and responds, “Yes, and that’s my other leg, and I can’t even think of going anywhere without it, or without Adli.”Adli grins. “Together, we are better than before we were injured.”Mansour nods, his eyes lively.They enjoy spending time together, whether it’s shopping, eating, relaxing, strolling along the beach, running errands, or riding their one motorcycle. Living in Shujaiya, in East Gaza City, a region heavily impacted by war, the two men like to walk together from the far eastern border to the seafront in the far west, passing through Gaza’s fishing hub. Despite their physical challenges, the friends continue to do their daily activities together, taking pleasure in the simple joys of life.Both men get on their motorcycle and head back home, laughing once again and sharing stories that never seem to come to an end.In this town, people with disabilities are supported and understood in ways often hard to come by elsewhere. They don’t have to fight for access, inclusion, or representation because everyone has sympathy for people whose bodies have been dismembered by Israel’s military hardware, and because the situation is so common. Disability has been normalized. When Adli and Mansour sit on the seafront to chat for hours, people stop and greet them as they watch the rhythmic motion of the waves in the ocean. They find joy in daily life and inspire others in the community to do the same.Years later I catch up with the two men as we walk under a sycamore tree on Al-Mintar Hill, an area near their homes that overlooks Gaza City. Despite the city’s changes, it still retains a serene beauty, and Gazans try not to let an atmosphere of defeat take hold. In Shujaiya, people’s mode of resilience is to stay, stand firm, and try to enjoy life as best they can despite the odds stacked against them.Mansour is now married to a wonderful woman named Neda. To his great joy, they are expecting a baby, and his wife is thrilled to have found a job selling homemade sweets online. She’s also happy her husband has the support he needs through his friend Adli.“We are able to find joy by sharing all we have and continuing to care for one another even through pain,” says Mansour. As for the motorcycle: Mansour handles the gears and Adli steers. Everyone who sees them fly by on the street is amazed by their degree of cooperation.“When we share a ride, I feel like a whole human body with nothing missing,” Mansour says with a lighthearted laugh as they head toward home with the sunset behind them."
}
,
"relatedposts": [
{
"title" : "Neptune Frost",
"author" : "Saul Williams, Anisia Uzeyman",
"category" : "screenings",
"tags" : "",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/eip-screening-neptune-frost",
"date" : "2025-07-12 16:00:00 -0400",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/netune-frost-movie-poster.jpg",
"excerpt" : "Join us on Saturday, July 12 for a special screening, followed by an exclusive Q&A with the directors of Neptune Frost. Part of our member screening series, tune in live or anytime in the next 24 hours, from anywhere in the world!",
"content" : "Join us on Saturday, July 12 for a special screening, followed by an exclusive Q&A with the directors of Neptune Frost. Part of our member screening series, tune in live or anytime in the next 24 hours, from anywhere in the world!Multi-hyphenate, multidisciplinary artist Saul Williams brings his unique dynamism to this Afrofuturist vision, a sci-fi punk musical that’s a visually wondrous amalgamation of themes, ideas, and songs that Williams has explored in his work, notably his 2016 album MartyrLoserKing. Co-directed with the Rwandan-born artist and cinematographer Anisia Uzeyman, the film takes place in the hilltops of Burundi, where a group of escaped coltan miners form an anti-colonialist computer hacker collective. From their camp in an otherworldly e-waste dump, they attempt a takeover of the authoritarian regime exploiting the region’s natural resources – and its people. When an intersex runaway and an escaped coltan miner find each other through cosmic forces, their connection sparks glitches within the greater divine circuitry. Set between states of being – past and present, dream and waking life, colonized and free, male and female, memory and prescience – Neptune Frost is an invigorating and empowering direct download to the cerebral cortex and a call to reclaim technology for progressive political ends."
}
,
{
"title" : "Socialist Girl Summer: How Capitalism Spent Billions to Demonize Socialism — And Why That Spell Is Breaking",
"author" : "Céline Semaan",
"category" : "essays",
"tags" : "",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/socialist-girl-summer-demonize-socialism-why-spell-breaking",
"date" : "2025-07-03 22:00:00 -0400",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/EIP_SocialistGirlSummer.jpg",
"excerpt" : "As the founder of Slow Factory, I design everything you see—every typeface, every framework, every campaign. I don’t outsource the vision. I shape it. And I started Slow with one goal in mind: to rebrand socialism, justice, and environmentalism—not as niche causes, but as cultural movements essential to our survival. Design isn’t just about aesthetics. It’s about power. And I use design as a tool to imagine, demand, and build better worlds.For nearly a century, the United States has spent billions of dollars, media bandwidth, and educational muscle to ensure one thing: that the word socialism would strike fear in the public imagination. That’s not because socialism failed. It’s because socialism threatens power—especially the kind of power that hoards land, labor, and life for profit.But something is shifting. The re-election of Assemblymember Zohran Mamdani in New York—an openly socialist organizer who unapologetically defends tenants, workers, and Palestinians—marks a rupture in that narrative. A new generation no longer flinches at the word. They embrace it. They are building it. They are winning.But before we can move forward, we must understand what we are up against.",
"content" : "As the founder of Slow Factory, I design everything you see—every typeface, every framework, every campaign. I don’t outsource the vision. I shape it. And I started Slow with one goal in mind: to rebrand socialism, justice, and environmentalism—not as niche causes, but as cultural movements essential to our survival. Design isn’t just about aesthetics. It’s about power. And I use design as a tool to imagine, demand, and build better worlds.For nearly a century, the United States has spent billions of dollars, media bandwidth, and educational muscle to ensure one thing: that the word socialism would strike fear in the public imagination. That’s not because socialism failed. It’s because socialism threatens power—especially the kind of power that hoards land, labor, and life for profit.But something is shifting. The re-election of Assemblymember Zohran Mamdani in New York—an openly socialist organizer who unapologetically defends tenants, workers, and Palestinians—marks a rupture in that narrative. A new generation no longer flinches at the word. They embrace it. They are building it. They are winning.But before we can move forward, we must understand what we are up against.A Propaganda Empire Built on FearFrom Cold War cinema to first-grade civics books, socialism was rendered as the enemy. Not because it endangered democracy, but because it questioned private property, militarism, and capitalism’s sacred cow: unlimited profit.The U.S. government, backed by its capitalist elite, responded with a sweeping cultural war. The Red Scare and McCarthyism turned union leaders, civil rights activists, and artists into traitors. The FBI surveilled and imprisoned people for organizing against poverty and racial capitalism. Hollywood blacklists sanitized storytelling and sold capitalist mythology as aspirational truth. CIA coups, from Chile to Iran to the Congo, dismantled democratically elected socialist governments because they dared to nationalize oil, land, and education. This wasn’t a fear of failure. It was a fear of redistribution.Why the Spell Is BreakingCapitalism made big promises. But it delivered gig work, burnout, debt, climate collapse, and endless war. A growing number of people—especially Gen Z and Millennials—aren’t buying the myth anymore.According to Pew Research (2023), 70% of younger Americans support some form of socialism.Mutual aid groups, public power campaigns, and tenant unions are taking root in cities across the U.S.And politicians like Mamdani, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, Summer Lee, and others are bringing these values to governance—publicly, unapologetically.This isn’t a rebrand. This is a return. A remembering.Designing LiberationDesign has always been political. It’s a tool used by empires—and also a tool of resistance. Every successful propaganda campaign used design to criminalize solidarity and glorify capitalism.Mid-century posters showed socialism as monstrous: Stalin as an octopus devouring the planet. Red flags engulfing American homes in flames. Inspectors peering through windows. These visuals weren’t neutral. They were weapons.But today, we’re flipping the frame.As a designer, I use visual culture to demystify and disrupt these fear-based narratives. We design not just what we see—but how we see. And when we shift that perspective, we make new futures possible.My work at Slow Factory has always been about this: telling stories rooted in care, equity, and ecological justice. Whether through open education, cultural programming, or climate justice campaigns, I’m reprogramming what power looks like—and who it belongs to.Zohran Mamdani and the Future of StorytellingMamdani’s victory isn’t just electoral. It’s cultural. He won while calling for an end to genocide in Gaza, organizing with workers instead of corporations, and speaking openly about the harms of capitalism and imperialism.He won while the establishment poured millions into defeating him.His win is proof: the old script is wearing thin.Reclaiming the Word, Reclaiming the WorldSocialism has always been about care—public housing, free healthcare, universal education, the right to rest and exist without fear. These are not fringe demands. These are the bare minimum for a livable planet.The villain was never socialism. The villain was the empire that told us we didn’t deserve care unless we could afford it.We are entering the Possible Futures era. And it’s being led by people who no longer fear justice—but are terrified of its absence.Designing that future means unlearning propaganda and replacing it with stories of survival, resistance, and imagination. We must reclaim the visual language of dignity—transforming symbols of domination into frameworks for liberation.We don’t just need to rebrand socialism.We need to remember it.And redesign everything."
}
,
{
"title" : "Who’s Profiting from Genocide? What Francesca Albanese’s Report Reveals—and Why It Matters for the Climate",
"author" : "EIP Editors",
"category" : "essays",
"tags" : "",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/profiting-from-genocide-what-francesca-albanese-report",
"date" : "2025-07-02 18:33:00 -0400",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/EIP_Francesca_Report.jpg",
"excerpt" : "Let’s be clear: genocide is never just a military operation. It’s an economy.",
"content" : "Let’s be clear: genocide is never just a military operation. It’s an economy.This week, UN Special Rapporteur Francesca Albanese released a groundbreaking report—“From the Economy of Occupation to the Economy of Genocide” naming dozens of global corporations complicit in and benefitting from Israel’s genocidal war on Gaza. The report makes what many of us have long known impossible to ignore: multinational corporations are not just “doing business” with Israel—they are profiting from displacement, resource theft, and mass death.And it’s not just harming people. It’s killing the planet.Albanese’s report lays out how corporations across defense, tech, finance, construction, and agriculture are directly enabling Israel’s assault on Gaza. This is not indirect. This is not abstract. These companies are not passive observers—they are profiteers. Weapon Manufacturers like Lockheed Martin, Elbit Systems, Boeing, BAE Systems, and General Dynamics are supplying the bombs raining down on hospitals and refugee camps. Tech Giants like Google, Amazon, Microsoft, IBM, and Palantir provide the cloud computing, AI surveillance, and targeting software that power Israel’s military intelligence. Construction Firms like Caterpillar, HD Hyundai, and Volvo provide bulldozers used to demolish Palestinian homes—often paid for with public funds or foreign aid. Hospitality Platforms like Booking.com and Airbnb list vacation rentals on stolen Palestinian land, laundering settler colonialism into leisure. Financial Institutions including BlackRock, Barclays, Citigroup, JPMorgan, and Deutsche Bank fund Israeli military bonds and invest in all the above sectors. This is what an economy of genocide looks like: global, profitable, and deeply entrenched in the status quo.Genocide and Ecocide Are Two Sides of the Same CoinThe same companies enabling genocide are actively destroying ecosystems. This isn’t a coincidence—it’s a pattern.Caterpillar, already infamous for displacing Palestinian families, is a major contributor to fossil fuel extraction and mining projects that poison Indigenous lands in the Global South.Palantir, which boasts about using AI to “optimize” military surveillance, is also deployed by ICE in the United States to track, detain, and deport climate refugees and migrants.Netafim, an Israeli irrigation company profiting off stolen Palestinian water, is celebrated as “sustainable innovation” in the ag-tech world—masking eco-apartheid as green tech.In short: genocide and ecocide share a supply chain. And we need to cut the cord.Elbit Systems, an Israeli weapons manufacturer, supplies drones and surveillance tech to police at the U.S.-Mexico border—and to ICE.HP and Google provide AI and cloud infrastructure for the Israeli military while also marketing themselves as “green tech” leaders.Chevron and ExxonMobil continue to fund and extract from the Eastern Mediterranean, leveraging Israel’s military occupation to secure infrastructure.This is greenwashing meets genocide—a deadly symbiosis between environmental harm and militarized violence.What This Means for UsThis moment calls for more than statements. It calls for a total redefinition of what sustainability means—because there is nothing sustainable about silence in the face of genocide.If you are a brand, an artist, a designer, a policymaker, a curator, or a student: you are being called in. Your work, your budget, your institution may be entangled—knowingly or not—with the companies Albanese has exposed. Now is the time to do the work.What We Must Do—Now1. Follow the MoneyStudy the companies listed in Albanese’s report. If you work with—or fund—any of them, ask questions. Divest. Cut ties.2. Demand Institutional AccountabilityMuseums, universities, nonprofits, and sustainability conferences are often quietly sponsored by companies profiting from Israeli apartheid. Push for transparency. Refuse complicity. Call it what it is.3. Connect the StrugglesThe fight for Palestinian liberation is not separate from climate justice. This is all one system: extraction, occupation, militarization, profit. As we say often: everything is political—because everything is connected.4. Build and Invest in AlternativesMutual aid, abolitionist design, food sovereignty, fossil-free infrastructure, and Indigenous stewardship—these are not just buzzwords. They are the way forward. Center Global South leadership. Fund frontline communities.5. Say PalestineRefuse the pressure to sanitize. Refuse the pressure to stay neutral. In the face of genocide, neutrality is complicity. If your liberation practice does not include Palestine, it is incomplete.A Propaganda Crisis, TooThese companies aren’t just selling tools of war—they’re shaping narratives. They sponsor art exhibitions, climate conferences, design summits. They greenwash occupation and brand apartheid as “security innovation.”The most dangerous lie today is that “sustainability” can coexist with genocide. It can’t.No climate justice without Palestinian liberation. No sustainable future while apartheid is profitable.So What Can We Do?DivestCampaign for your workplace, university, or city to divest from the companies named in the report. Check your retirement funds. Audit your donors. Pull the receipts.ExposeIf your favorite brand or cultural institution is collaborating with Amazon, Palantir, or Caterpillar—say something. Publicly. Email them. Call it what it is: complicity.Cut the Narrative LoopRefuse to use language that normalizes occupation: “conflict,” “both sides,” “retaliation.” This is genocide.Build AlternativesSupport community-owned energy, Palestinian agricultural cooperatives, and local solidarity economies. Join land back and degrowth movements—they are connected.Organize for PolicyPush for legislation that bans military trade with apartheid regimes and prohibits companies from profiting off human rights abuses.Tell the Truth, ConsistentlyUse your platform to amplify the names, the facts, the systems. Share this report. Write your own version. Make the invisible visible.The Link Between Genocide and Climate HarmWe can’t talk about genocide without talking about resource theft, land colonization, and environmental destruction. The same weapons being used to bomb hospitals and schools in Gaza are being manufactured by companies who also profit from climate collapse—polluting ecosystems, propping up fossil fuel economies, and creating the conditions for displacement that militarized borders are then built to contain.We must hold the line. Genocide is not inevitable—it is designed. And anything that is designed can be dismantled. If we want to build a just, livable future, we must start by divesting from the machinery of death—and investing in life.Let this be the beginning."
}
]
}