Airport Blog Hartford November 2024

 I am waiting for my flights to see South Carolina to see two of my closest friends over an early and extended thanksgiving break. I took a series of buses to save money, but as this is the US and you don't choose which bus to take, I am here way before time. On the way, my bus passed through Hartford, the capital of Connecticut state. Since moving here, I have realised that many American cities don't feel like cities in the US because they don't have walkable downtowns. They have skyscrapers, which would suggest a high population density, but you don't see that in the streets. Apparently, all those skyscrapers house huge parking lots so that people can drive to and from them. Hartford was another such large soulless mid-sized city, which made me grateful to live in a college town, which has a fair number of pedestrians as well as cyclists for its size. And, of course, the only people who take buses in the US are poor people and students. I was possibly the only person above 20 on two of my bus rides. I had last visited South Carolina two years ago when I visited the same two friends. At that time, I was excited to be in the Deep South, but I was a bit disappointed. We didn't really spend time in a city, apart from touristy Charleston, and American suburbs feel depressingly similar. This time around, I will be spending time in a city, and I also have a frame of reference to compare it with. I live in a college town in the bluest state in the country, and I am curious about what America is like outside this bubble. 

Insufferable Liberals

 I wrote eysterday about how I am feeling better after the election. Maybe there is a bit of scahdenfruede to it--let liberals feel some of the misery and despair that we have been feeling for the past 13 months. And, liberals are making to so easy to feel biter against them., pretending that everything was hunky-dory before Nov. 5, just as Zionists pretend everything was hunky-dory in Israel-Palestine before Oct 7 last year. On an alumni group, people were commiserating with each other about Trump's victory, trotting out bromides about keeping hope and faith. I was mildly annoyed, but I blew my top when someone cited a post-election speech by Biden as inspiration. And, then there was  talk at uni today by a black scholar turned celebrity pundit. He is clearly a smart guy and a great orator, and he was going to talk about the inimitable James Baldwin. His talk was bearable, because most of it was quotes of James Baldwin, and he even broke down in one place. I don't mean to be derisive. I will never understand what life is like for Black people in America. But, someone of his stature and platform should offer more than platitudes. No one expects a regular on cable news channels to call for a socialist revolution, but surely he could have played it less safe than he does on TV. The subsequent "Q&A" session was mdoerated bya  careerist dean who had shorn all the questions of any political content, and turned them into vapid non-questions. And, in response poured at a sea of cliches from the eminent Eddie Glaude--"you contain multitudes", "Allow people to ofer you colours, but never give up your brushes, you paint the canvas of your life". It sounded like a low-effort Ted Talk. After his speech, I joined in the standing ovation, ut after the Q&A I was one of the only able-bodied people who remain fimrly seated. My white colleague who I later learnt also disliked the talk joined in the standing ovation, and if I were white. I would probably have jioned too. The optics of a white man showing ambivalence towards a black luminary are not great. Then again, if I had been black I might not have joined in the first standing ovation either. Before I decided to remain seated, I thought of my Mom, who is one of the most courageous people I know in my peronsal life. I remember we were in the audience at my elder sister's sports meet at school. I must have been around nine or 10. As the millionaire founder of our school walked by to take his seat  in the VIP area, all the parents in the audience stood out of respect. My mom and her friend remain seated. My staunchly communist Mom told me "I have no respect for him". 

Trump Storms Back

 So, the unthinkable but expected has happened, and Donal Trump will be US president again. To be honest, I don't think I would have felt much better if Kamala Harris had won, because she has been such a terrible candidate. With every passing week, she tacked further to the right until she started resembling a never-Trump Republican. For the past few weeks, I had felt my body becoming increasingly tense. News from Palestine and Lebanon had been affecting me more than usual, and I would get sudden bouts of lethargy. For a while, I thought it was the dry air from the heater. But, I think it was the wait to know whether we would be ruled by a genocidal fascist or a genocide liberal-except-on Palestine. Which is curious because Harris would have been terrible in thinkable ways, while Trump will be terrible in unthinkable ways. I am not a woman, a Republican state resident, or poor or black so I won't feel theshort end of the stick in a Trump presidency. But, on Palestine, it is hard to think about how Trump could be worse than Biden/harris. I don't want to turn this intop a piece of political commentary becaue there are far smarter and better informed people doing that. Who knows what a Trump presidency will bring? But, this is at least an end of the road for one brand of genocidalists. 

Clocks Go Back 2024

 When the clocks went forward earlier this year, I was in the UK and anxious about my job prospects, as well as the continnuing war in Gaza. A few days after writing the post, I received news that I had been accepted to the post-doc position in the US, so a lot has happened in the past few months. The move to the US, the new job, dealing with unending US paperwork, the stress and excitement of setting up my own apartment for the first time in my life. Staring to feel excited about economics again, before events in the Middle East took a turn for the worse (which no one thought was possible). All in all, big changes on the personal front as well as on the world front as well as the perpetual struggle to find purpose in one's own work while the world bruns. And by changes on the personal front, I also mean changes to how I view the world and my place in it, and my willingness to play a part, however small, in building a world I want to live in. Most of us in the Palestine solidarity movement have been irrevocably changed over the past year or so. I am not the person I was a year ago, and never will be, which, I think, on the whole, is for the better.

Looking forward, in two days, we have US elections. We will find out if we are to be ruled by a genocidal fascistis corporate shill or a genocidal neocon corporate shill. It has been difficult to focus for the past week or so, and who knows what the near and not-so-near future holds. But, as Adrienne says, some traditions are not meant to be broken, so I did her cozy winter yoga practice, which I always do on the day the clocks go back. And, of course, this post is also part of that tradition. Following these traditions gives a feeling of morring in a rapdily changing world. Whatever happens, everyday life will have to go on even as great events intrude on it. The mundane and the momentous will have to co-exist. 

Assault on Comrade

 Today, we received an email from the uni's police department, (yes, unis here have their own police department" seeking information about two assaults. One seemed like a drunken brawl late on a Friday night, but the other occured in a uni building in the middle of the day. There was also a picture of the assailant in the email. I was puzzled for a second, but didn't think much of it until we got an email from an economics faculty member saying it was one of our PhD students who had been assaulted while flyering. The student is active in the Palestinian solidarity movement and is never seen without a keffiyeh. And, he is scrawny, while the guy who asaulted him seemed well-built. There are plenty of DIF reservists lurking around the US, and he must have been one. And, in true IDF fashion, he picked a fight with someone much smaller and weaker than him. The IDF never enters a battle unless it has an overhwleming physical advantage. Which is why it plays cautious against Iran, over whom it has a sizeable (thanks to US support) but not overwhelming military advantage, while it masacres Palestinian and Lebanese civilians with abandon. It is a very efficient civilian-killing machine, but sucks at armed combat. But, coming back to the asault, I was incensed. I happened to be wearing my keffiyeh as I was supposed to attend which I learned at the last moment had been called off. I got a lot of smiles and compliments on the streets of Amherst and Noho and no hostility. But, I am a largish man, and not a natural target for the IDF. And, now as a tall strong-looking man I feel I should wear my keffiyeh more often. I have never fought anyone as an adult, and there was time when I thoguht I should lean self-defence classes. Self-defence classes are great if they make you feel more confident, but they are not essential. The battle agasint Zionism will not be one solely with physical might, even though I believe that violent resistance against a genocidal colonial power is justified. The Zionists have too much money and too many arms. It will be won by millions of people in the US putting their careers and their physical safety, and in some cases their liberty and lives on the line, by turning up and speaking up against Zionism. 

Kator Re Bhaaji

 I came across this phrase in  podcast. It is in Konkani, which is a language spoken in some coastal regions of my homestate and in the neighbouring Goa and Karnatka states. The phrase simply means "Cut the vegetable" but the way it is said is as if there were an exclamation mark at the end. It is an exhortation to do something that one is dithering about. "Just cut the damn vegetables and get it over with!" would be the translation that is more faithful to its meaning. I am trying to summon some "Kator Re Bhaaji" energy as I have been dragging my feet over submitting an article to a journal. I have written before about my research rut, which I describe as the feeling that "I am smart enough to see that most research is bullshit, but not smart enough to make originial research contributions". I admit that I am slightly proud of it because in my opinion it is clever without being cocky. But, it is time to retire the phrase. It has served its purpose and now it has started to feel stale. People much more intelligent than me see value in my work, and I should have confidence in their judgement, even if I don't in my own. 

Another Blow to The Resistance

When I lived in the UK, we had to be very careful about what we chanted at rallies and spoke at speeches. UK hate speech laws are strict, and never stricter than when they are applied to alleged instances of anti-semitism. It also illegal to express support for proscribed organisations, such as Hamas and Hezbollah. Saying "Globalize the Intifida" will get you arrested, and on a bad day, so could "No Justice, No Peace" or "Resistance is justified, when People are occupied". These slogans are commonplace at protests in the US. But, most people who come from former colonies are not very conflicted about supporting armed resistance. Many of our freedom fighters, figures who are now feted, whose portraits adorn the walls of government offices, were called terrorists by the colonizers in their time. One man's terrorist is another man's freedom fighter, indeed. Today, Hamas' leader in Gaza, the alleged mastermind of Oct 7 was killed. Once upon a time, media pundits speculated that his killing would be sufficient revenge for the humiliation of Oct 7, and Israeli would halt its military campaign in Gaza. No one beleives that any more. Israel has made it amply clear that its goal is genocide. This evening I also attended a book reading and talk by a Palestinian writer recounting her time growing up in the West Bank and visiting her jailed brother. My eyes did not just well up with tears, I had tears flowing down my cheeks. The grace, courage, dignity and largeheartedness of the Palestinian people is an exemplar and a reminder to those of us who are not Palestinian to not despair. In the past year, those of us involved in the movement for Palestinian liberation in ways big and small have found reserves of both courage and love that we didn't knew existed thanks to the Palestinian people.