Mahmoud Khalil Rally

Sometimes I feel, to paraphrase Kate Tempest, I have already said whatever there is to be said on this blog, and every new post is just old wine in a new bottle. But, old wine is also wine, so I will keep going. One week after Hamas' attack on Israel, I attended the first of many London marches for Palestine. I came away from the march feeling fortified. I was reminded about that period this week, after a Palestinian student at Columbia university was abducted by ICE and whisked away to a detention facility in a god-forsaken town in Lousiana ahead of his planned deportation. The fascists like to make a performance out of cruelty, and Trump said they would be many more deportations of ‘Hamas supporters’. I felt the same mix of fear, helplessness and distress I had felt in the days after October 7, when the UK Home Secretary Cruella Braverman threatened protestors on visas with deportations. At least, she was good enough to mention that arrested protestors would be deported, not all protestors would be deported. But, not going to the protest was not an option, and I am glad I went. At times like this, it is good to be in community from time to time, even for a lone ranger like me. Being among like-minded feeling almost the same emotions is soothing. The conversations I had at today’s protest were about a  lot of things in addition to the situation we had come to protest. Because, in times like these, one becomes suspicious and judgemental of people who appear not be distressed by what is happening. One cannot wholeheartedly engage with people who appear not to be incensed about the situation (even though they very well might be, and could be doing more about it than you). But, if you are at a protest in this environment, you obviously care enough to turn up. Once it is established that the opposite person is a kindred anti-Zionist soul, it is much easier to talk to them.