1.
The inmates have responded.
The holocaustic concentration
camp victims in Gaza refused
to accept the six evictions from
Palestinian homes in the Sheikh
Jarrah zone of East Jerusalem,
and the storming of the Aqsa
Mosque, which occurred because
the fascist ex-President of the
United States, that dumpster
Trump, declared Jerusalem as
the capitol of Israel to the total
exclusion of the Palestinian
people, and because the also
fascist Netanyahu, confronted
with a corruption trial, needed
to create a war so that power
and patriotism will keep him in
that Power. But Palestinians
had enough this time. They
fired back at the evil that’s
been nourished by billions of
U.S. dollars because they’ve
had enough of their holocaust,
this open-air prison, and this
immense and widespread poor
house with bars—bar this, bar
that—for no less than 73 years.
2.
Dhikra an-Nakba is not nothing.
In Memory of the Catastrophe
that forced the decimation of
some 400 Palestinian villages,
a disaster that drove into flight
or expulsion a million refugees
forced from their homes, forced
to live checkpoint to checkpoint,
little girls with fathers in cars
having to wait hours in burning
suns just to get home and see the
sign of another restriction,
another law against Palestinian
people. And to the cry of No
Annexation, deaf eyes. And to
the cry of No Apartheid, blind
ears. And despite the cries of
Badil, Zochrot, Adalah, B’Tselem
nothing would stop the settler
occupations, evictions, zionist
hatreds added to its injustices,
with the result that even in the
tunnels, the city under the city
in its network of desperations,
any form of fight-back was seen
in the laughing cameras’ eyes.
So how else to fight the evictions
that have never ceased for 73
years, the insults to Palestinian
dignity at the end of Ramadan
save by the Hamas missiles
whose every blast explodes
with a: Not we are the terrorists
but you, you two, who’ve never
said, in hope, in love, “Welcome
home!” to the Palestinian people
who are refused return to their
land by a people who, in an irony
that turns to coldest steel, insists
that it was theirs In the beginning.
— Jack Hirschman
