Wrapping Up Eid al-Adha in the Shadow of the Genocide in Palestine
Today marks the fourth and final day of Eid al-Adha but also the 256th day of Palestinians battling the horrific atrocities in the midst of the indiscriminate bombings and deliberate war crimes and acts of genocide.
In the months that the Muslim community’s attention has been focused on the Palestinian resistance, my mind, like many of yours, has been crowded with various qualms and critiques on how we approach the fight against injustice. I realize the ease it takes to raise questions in a context where tangible action is needed above all else, though I would simultaneously offer that a flawed approach to injustice can be antithetical to what we claim to advocate for, effectively misrepresenting the movement and defeating its intended impact.
There can never be a value assigned to the countless student protestors at the forefront who have put not only their degrees but their bodies on the line — demonstrations that have been monumental to the ongoing condemnation of the Israeli apartheid state — though it is the exact positionality students possess as beneficiaries of elite knowledge that affords them the ability to assert themselves so valuably.
In order to conceptualize something so pervasive yet necessarily invisible, there needs to be a common thread uniting our individual efforts and the many reasons we may personally fight for Palestine. This common thread resides in the intellectual pursuits that are separate from but directly inform our actions.
It is also impossible to understate how intertwined Islamophobia is with the Zionist agenda when most American institutions invest in the Israeli apartheid state and refuse to condemn anti-Muslim hatred.
Like many young Muslim Americans, I was primarily educated on the Palestinian genocide by my parents. Being immigrants themselves, their explanation of Palestinian subjugation was “because they are Muslim.” As many of us have made ourselves aware and/or experienced firsthand, Islamophobia is inextricably tied to the ongoing genocide in Palestine and the racialization of Palestinians in mainstream media. It is also impossible to understate how intertwined Islamophobia is with the Zionist agenda when most American institutions invest in the Israeli apartheid state and refuse to condemn anti-Muslim hatred.
Of course, Islamophobia is a political project unto itself, attempting to normalize violence toward Muslim populations while deceiving the public of its intentions, though these examples are worth mentioning as they are particularly tangible in our current climate. This is why being Muslim, though hardly a prerequisite for supporting the Palestinian cause, is a lived embodiment of many social, political, and even historical developments that simultaneously affect Palestinians, even if one is not of Palestinian origin. Being Muslim allows us to be sympathetic to and therefore more cognizant of oppression, especially as it is experienced by majority Muslim populations, however it is not and should not be the primary reason we identify with the oppressed.
When I overhear various Muslim uncles and aunties (each of whom possesses their own struggles with racism, Islamophobia, Xenophobia, etc.) encourage their children to advocate for Palestine because “Palestinians are Muslim and we have to fight for our people”, I experience the same mental back-and-forth, wherein the Muslim identity cannot possibly be separated from Palestinian subjugation yet it should not be the sole reason we stand against injustice.
This is further complicated by the fact that our parents generally have more real-world experience with being othered in Western society than we do despite having less formal education on colonialism and its evolved counterparts. Again, I realize how vital it is to focus on the Palestinian resistance as an action-oriented cause, though as someone who has attended Palestine protests among crowds primarily made up of young Muslim Americans, this remains concerning.
‘Muslim issues’ are not situated upon the victimization of Muslim populations but the very presence of injustice itself, as the lack of education on Palestine in the Muslim community poses problems for the quality of the resistance and its productive effect as an anti-racist, anti-colonial ideological movement. As much as the movement’s vastness has been integral to amplifying Palestinian voices and experiences in dominant discourse, I remain skeptical of what motivates our community to protest such injustice. It is simply insufficient to fight for Palestine for the reason that Palestinians are largely Muslim.
Palestine is not a ‘Muslim issue’ because many Palestinians are Muslims. The genocide in Palestine is a Muslim issue because it is an unequivocal violation of humanity — a fact that, regardless of who may be at the hands of such a violation, necessitates the efforts of the Ummah, even during Eid al-Adha.
It does make it all the more upsetting when Muslims, especially those in the public eye, do not reorient their existing political or social platforms to garner greater attention on Palestinian suffering, though the resistance exceeds far past identity politics or even the pursuit of Muslim solidarity. Palestine is not a ‘Muslim issue’ because many Palestinians are Muslims. The genocide in Palestine is a Muslim issue because it is an unequivocal violation of humanity — a fact that, regardless of who may be at the hands of such a violation, necessitates the efforts of the Ummah, even during Eid al-Adha.
When we say “Palestine but also Sudan, and the Congo, and Kashmir, and…” we are not equating or conflating experiences of injustice as they are felt around the world. We are subverting a culturally predominant idea that suffering exists in a vacuum. That it involves a singular enemy who attacks a singular victim due to a singular agenda, that it can be understood with sufficient awareness of a particular political development, that it is a matter of mere history.
Knowing the history is undoubtedly crucial, especially in a context in which archives of Palestinian history are actively being destroyed, however, when we say “Palestine but also Sudan, and the Congo, and Kashmir, and…” we are reminding each other that fighting for any one cause in the hopes of change does not contribute to an approach rooted in intersectionality. When we say “Palestine but also Sudan, and the Congo, and Kashmir, and…” we are shedding light on an approach to justice that seeks to undo an international colonial order — which is relevant to Muslims because of our material experiences, but perhaps more importantly, because of our ideological aspirations.
The Palestinian genocide persists, and it is with Islamic principle that we end this Eid al-Adha on a high note by understanding our ability to celebrate and reignite our passion for advocacy.
As we bring Eid al-Adha to a close, I was once again reflecting upon all of the Dhul Hijjah checklists reminding us to put in extra effort in our individual prayers and recitations, and while forms of worship are opportunities to seek personal enlightenment, we should not take such opportunities without also applying greater care to the collective.
While I’m sure many of us would like to use the upcoming holiday to focus on ourselves, our families, and our general wish to celebrate, there is little value in celebration when it is not balanced with humility toward those who cannot merely exist in peace. The Palestinian genocide persists, and it is with Islamic principle that we end this Eid al-Adha on a high note by understanding our ability to celebrate and reignite our passion for advocacy.
