Où s’arrêtera t il ?
#Depardieu aurait violé une #Matriochka ! :-D :-D :-D
#buzz #surenchère #démagogie #médias #communication #masse #société #intox #info #féminisme #pseudo_féminisme #respect #sexe #Ingrid_est_ce_que_tu_baises ? #hystérique #seenthis #vangauguin #humour
Kirghizistan : Des femmes et filles handicapées confrontées à la violence domestique
Le gouvernement devrait renforcer les mesures contre la discrimination, faire appliquer les lois existantes et réviser certaines d’entre elles
Au Kirghizistan, de nombreuses femmes et filles handicapées subissent divers abus – passages à tabac, négligence et humiliation– souvent aux mains de leurs proches
Le gouvernement a fait de la lutte contre la violence domestique une priorité, mais les lois ne prennent pas en compte les besoins particuliers des femmes et des filles handicapées, les exposant ainsi au risque de violence de manière continue.
Le Kirghizistan devrait aligner sa législation sur le droit international, faciliter l’éducation et l’indépendance financière des femmes et des filles handicapées, et améliorer la formation des fonctionnaires dans ce domaine.
▻https://entreleslignesentrelesmots.wordpress.com/2023/12/28/kirghizistan-des-femmes-et-filles-handicapees-
Féminisme populaire et intégration régionale : Publication virtuelle de la Marche Mondiale des Femmes des Amériques
Lire la brochure réalisée par Capire et la Marche Mondiale des Femmes des Amériques
Cette publication virtuelle rassemble des élaborations féministes sur la construction de l’internationalisme et sur la participation fondamentale des femmes combattantes aux processus d’intégration des peuples.
Dans les interviews inédites, Alejandra Laprea et Norma Cacho parlent de l’organisation de la Marche Mondiale des Femmes dans les Amériques et des défis internationaux du mouvement ; les textes d’Alejandra Angriman, Elpidia Moreno et Karin Nansen sont des éditions de leurs discours lors du webinaire « Féminisme et intégration régionale », tenu en novembre 2023 ; ceux d’Ana Priscila Alves et Irene León apportent leurs contributions à la 3e conférence Dilemmes de l’humanité dans ses étapes régionale et internationale, en septembre et octobre 2023. Le texte de notre chère compagne Nalu Faria, initialement publié en 2021, a été choisi pour ouvrir notre publication, ravivant sa mémoire, son héritage et sa vision précise sur les stratégies de construction du féminisme populaire.
▻https://entreleslignesentrelesmots.wordpress.com/2023/12/27/feminisme-populaire-et-integration-regionale-p
Halte aux attaques contre l’IVG instrumentale !
Le décret d’application qui permet enfin aux sages femmes de pratiquer des ivg instrumentales (= par aspiration) a été publié le 16 décembre 23. Nous l’attendions depuis le 2 mars 2022, date de promulgation de la loi dite « Gaillot ». On manque de médecins, tout le monde le sait. Des centres où se pratiquent les IVG ferment car des maternités de proximité où ils sont implantés ferment.
La publication de ce décret était attendue avec impatience pour permettre de « fluidifier » l’accès à l’IVG et d’en réduire les inégalités d’accès sur les territoires. Les sages femmes sont formées, compétentes, elles pratiquent parfois des accouchements difficiles où la vie de la femme et de l’enfant sont menacées
▻https://entreleslignesentrelesmots.wordpress.com/2023/12/26/halte-aux-attaques-contre-livg-instrumentale
Comment la distinction entre la notion de sexe biologique et celle de genre est effacée par les discours des militant-es transactivistes
L’acceptation par la société – au demeurant tardive et timide – de la réalité d’une discordance parfois, entre le sexe biologique de naissance et l’identité de genre ressentie ou vécue, s’accompagne depuis quelques années de l’émergence d’un nouveau dictionnaire qu’il convient d’interroger.
▻https://entreleslignesentrelesmots.wordpress.com/2022/02/03/comment-la-distinction-entre-la-notion-de-sexe
Cours criminelles départementales : une justice de seconde classe
Les cours criminelles départementales, censées éviter la correctionnalisation des viols, servent en fait d’outil pour déqualifier des crimes sexuels, parmi les plus sadiques, les plus misogynes, les plus racistes. C’est ce que révèle la procédure « French Bukkake » pour laquelle les plaignantes ont fait appel. Soutien à elles avant la décision de la Cour d’appel le 14 décembre.
▻https://entreleslignesentrelesmots.wordpress.com/2023/12/24/cours-criminelles-departementales-une-justice-
Ceci n’est pas un message d’amour
En avant toute(s) agit auprès des jeunes, femmes et personnes LGBTQIA+
Nous luttons contre les violences sexistes et sexuelles à travers des actions de prévention et accompagnons les personnes victimes et témoins sur le premier tchat dédié.
Le tchat d’écoute gratuit, anonyme, sécurisé et bienveillant
Le tchat d’En avant toute(s) permet d’être mis·e en relation avec des professionnelles qui écoutent, conseillent et redirigent vers les structures adaptées.
Il est ouvert du lundi au jeudi de 10h à 00h et du vendredi au samedi de 10h à 21h.
▻https://entreleslignesentrelesmots.wordpress.com/2023/12/23/ceci-nest-pas-un-message-damour
Quei bambini chiusi in trappola a Gaza. Il racconto di #Ruba_Salih
(une interview de Ruba Salih, prof à l’Université de Bologne, 5 jours après le #7_octobre_2023)
«Mai come in queste ore a Gaza il senso di appartenere a una comune “umanita” si sta mostrando più vuoto di senso. La responsabilità di questo è del governo israeliano», dice Ruba Salih antropologa dell’università di Bologna che abbiamo intervistato mentre cresce la preoccupazione per la spirale di violenza che colpisce la popolazione civile palestinese e israeliana.
Quali sono state le sue prime reazioni, sentimenti, pensieri di fronte all’attacco di Hamas e poi all’annuncio dell’assedio di Gaza messo in atto dal governo israeliano?
Il 7 ottobre la prima reazione è stata di incredulità alla vista della recinzione metallica di Gaza sfondata, e alla vista dei palestinesi che volavano con i parapendii presagendo una sorta di fine dell’assedio. Ho avuto la sensazione di assistere a qualcosa che non aveva precedenti nella storia recente. Come era possibile che l’esercito più potente del mondo potesse essere sfidato e colto così alla sprovvista? In seguito, ho cominciato a chiamare amici e parenti, in Cisgiordania, Gaza, Stati Uniti, Giordania. Fino ad allora si aveva solo la notizia della cattura di un numero imprecisato di soldati israeliani. Ho pensato che fosse una tattica per fare uno scambio di prigionieri. Ci sono più di 5000 prigionieri palestinesi nelle carceri israeliane e 1200 in detenzione amministrativa, senza processo o accusa. Poi sono cominciate da domenica ad arrivare le notizie di uccisioni e morti di civili israeliani, a cui è seguito l’annuncio di ‘guerra totale’ del governo di Netanyahu. Da allora il sentimento è cambiato. Ora grande tristezza per la quantità di vittime, dell’una e dell’altra parte, e preoccupazione e angoscia senza precedenti per le sorti della popolazione civile di Gaza, che in queste ore sta vivendo le ore piu’ drammatiche che si possano ricordare.
E quando ha visto quello che succedeva, con tantissime vittime israeliane, violenze terribili, immagini di distruzione, minacce di radere al suolo Gaza?
Colleghi e amici israeliani hanno cominciato a postare immagini di amici e amiche uccisi – anche attivisti contro l’occupazione- e ho cominciato dolorosamente a mandare condoglianze. Contemporaneamente giungevano terribili parole del ministro della Difesa israeliano Gallant che definiva i palestinesi “animali umani”, dichiarando di voler annientare la striscia di Gaza e ridurla a “deserto”. Ho cominciato a chiamare amici di Gaza per sapere delle loro famiglie nella speranza che fossero ancora tutti vivi. Piano piano ho cominciato a cercare di mettere insieme i pezzi e dare una cornice di senso a quello che stava succedendo.
Cosa può dirci di Gaza che già prima dell’attacco di Hamas era una prigione a cielo aperto?
Si, Gaza è una prigione. A Gaza la maggior parte della popolazione è molto giovane, e in pochi hanno visto il mondo oltre il muro di recinzione. Due terzi della popolazione è composto da famiglie di rifugiati del 1948. Il loro vissuto è per lo più quello di una lunga storia di violenza coloniale e di un durissimo assedio negli ultimi 15 anni. Possiamo cercare di immaginare cosa significa vivere questo trauma che si protrae da generazioni. Gli abitanti di Gaza nati prima del 1948 vivevano in 247 villaggi nel sud della Palestina, il 50% del paese. Sono stati costretti a riparare in campi profughi a seguito della distruzione o occupazione dei loro villaggi. Ora vivono in un’area che rappresenta l’1.3% della Palestina storica con una densità di 7000 persone per chilometro quadrato e le loro terre originarie si trovano a pochi metri di là dal muro di assedio, abitate da israeliani.
E oggi?
Chi vive a Gaza si descrive come in una morte lenta, in una privazione del presente e della capacità di immaginare il futuro. Il 90% dell’acqua non è potabile, il 60% della popolazione è senza lavoro, l’80% riceve aiuti umanitari per sopravvivere e il 40% vive al di sotto della soglia di povertà: tutto questo a causa dell’ occupazione e dell’assedio degli ultimi 15 anni. Non c’è quasi famiglia che non abbia avuto vittime, i bombardamenti hanno raso al suolo interi quartieri della striscia almeno quattro volte nel giro di una decina di anni. Non credo ci sia una situazione analoga in nessun altro posto del mondo. Una situazione che sarebbe risolta se Israele rispettasse il diritto internazionale, né più né meno.
Prima di questa escalation di violenza c’era voglia di reagire, di vivere, di creare, di fare musica...
Certo, anche in condizioni di privazione della liberta’ c’e’ una straordinaria capacità di sopravvivenza, creatività, amore per la propria gente. Tra l’altro ricordo di avere letto nei diari di Marek Edelman sul Ghetto di Varsavia che durante l’assedio del Ghetto ci si innamorava intensamente come antidoto alla disperazione. A questo proposito, consilgio a tutti di leggere The Ghetto Fights di Edelman. Aiuta molto a capire cosa è Gaza in questo momento, senza trascurare gli ovvi distinguo storici.
Puoi spiegarci meglio?
Come sapete il ghetto era chiuso al mondo esterno, il cibo entrava in quantità ridottissime e la morte per fame era la fine di molti. Oggi lo scenario di Gaza, mentre parliamo, è che non c’è elettricità, il cibo sta per finire, centinaia di malati e neonati attaccati alle macchine mediche hanno forse qualche ora di sopravvivenza. Il governo israeliano sta bombardando interi palazzi, le vittime sono per più della metà bambini. In queste ultime ore la popolazione si trova a dovere decidere se morire sotto le bombe in casa o sotto le bombe in strada, dato che il governo israeliano ha intimato a un milione e centomila abitanti di andarsene. Andare dove? E come nel ghetto la popolazione di Gaza è definita criminale e terrorista.
Anche Franz Fanon, lei suggerisce, aiuta a capire cosa è Gaza.
Certamente, come ho scritto recentemente, Fanon ci viene in aiuto con la forza della sua analisi della ferita della violenza coloniale come menomazione psichica oltre che fisica, e come privazione della dimensione di interezza del soggetto umano libero, che si manifesta come un trauma, anche intergenerazionale. La violenza prolungata penetra nelle menti e nei corpi, crea una sospensione delle cornici di senso e delle sensibilità che sono prerogativa di chi vive in contesti di pace e benessere. Immaginiamoci ora un luogo, come Gaza, dove come un rapporto di Save the Children ha riportato, come conseguenza di 15 anni di assedio e blocco, 4 bambini su 5 riportano un vissuto di depressione, paura e lutto. Il rapporto ci dice che vi è stato un aumento vertiginoso di bambini che pensano al suicidio (il 50%) o che praticano forme di autolesionismo. Tuttavia, tutto questo e’ ieri. Domani non so come ci sveglieremo, noi che abbiamo il privilegio di poterci risvegliare, da questo incubo. Cosa resterà della popolazione civile di Gaza, donne, uomini bambini.
Come legge il sostegno incondizionato al governo israeliano di cui sono pieni i giornali occidentali e dell’invio di armi ( in primis dagli Usa), in un’ottica di vittoria sconfitta che abbiamo già visto all’opera per la guerra Russia-Ucraina?
A Gaza si sta consumando un crimine contro l’umanità di dimensioni e proporzioni enormi mentre i media continuano a gettare benzina sul fuoco pubblicando notizie in prima pagina di decapitazioni e stupri, peraltro non confermate neanche dallo stesso esercito israeliano. Tuttavia, non utilizzerei definizioni statiche e omogeneizzanti come quelle di ‘Occidente’ che in realtà appiattiscono i movimenti e le società civili sulle politiche dei governi, che in questo periodo sono per lo più a destra, nazionalisti xenofobi e populisti. Non è sempre stato così.
Va distinto il livello istituzionale, dei governi e dei partiti o dei media mainstream, da quello delle società civili e dei movimenti sociali?
Ci sono una miriade di manifestazioni di solidarietà ovunque nel mondo, che a fianco del lutto per le vittime civili sia israeliane che palestinesi, non smettono di invocare la fine della occupazione, come unica via per ristabilire qualcosa che si possa chiamare diritto (e diritti umani) in Palestina e Israele. Gli stessi media mainstream sono in diversi contesti molto più indipendenti che non in Italia. Per esempio, Bcc non ha accettato di piegarsi alle pressioni del governo rivendicando la sua indipendenza rifiutandosi di usare la parola ‘terrorismo’, considerata di parte, preferendo riferirsi a quei palestinesi che hanno sferrato gli attacchi come ‘combattenti’. Se sono stati commessi crimini contro l’umanità parti lo stabiliranno poi le inchieste dei tribunali penali internazionali. In Italia, la complicità dei media è invece particolarmente grave e allarmante. Alcune delle (rare) voci critiche verso la politica del governo israeliano che per esempio esistono perfino sulla stampa liberal israeliana, come Haaretz, sarebbero in Italia accusate di anti-semitismo o incitamento al terrorismo! Ci tengo a sottolineare tuttavia che il fatto che ci sia un certo grado di libertà di pensiero e di stampa in Israele non significa che Israele sia una ‘democrazia’ o perlomeno non lo è certo nei confronti della popolazione palestinese. Che Israele pratichi un regime di apartheid nei confronti dei palestinesi è ormai riconosciuto da organizzazioni come Amnesty International e Human Rights Watch, nonché sottolineato a più riprese dalla Relatrice speciale delle Nazioni Unite sui territori palestinesi occupati, Francesca Albanese.
Dunque non è una novità degli ultimi giorni che venga interamente sposata la retorica israeliana?
Ma non è una novità degli ultimi giorni che venga interamente sposata la narrativa israeliana. Sono anni che i palestinesi sono disumanizzati, resi invisibili e travisati. Il paradosso è che mentre Israele sta violando il diritto e le convenzioni internazionali e agisce in totale impunità da decenni, tutte le forme di resistenza: non violente, civili, dimostrative, simboliche, legali dei palestinesi fino a questo momento sono state inascoltate, anzi la situazione sul terreno è sempre più invivibile. Persino organizzazioni che mappano la violazione dei diritti umani sono demonizzate e catalogate come ‘terroristiche’. Anche le indagini e le commissioni per valutare le violazioni delle regole di ingaggio dell’esercito sono condotte internamente col risultato che divengono solo esercizi procedurali vuoti di sostanza (come per l’assassinio della reporter Shereen AbuHakleh, rimasto impunito come quello degli altri 55 giornalisti uccisi dall’esercito israeliano). Ci dobbiamo seriamente domandare: che cosa rimane del senso vero delle parole e del diritto internazionale?
Il discorso pubblico è intriso di militarismo, di richiami alla guerra, all’arruolamento…
Personalmente non metterei sullo stesso piano la resistenza di un popolo colonizzato con il militarismo come progetto nazionalistico di espansione e profitto. Possiamo avere diversi orientamenti e non condividere le stesse strategie o tattiche ma la lotta anticoloniale non è la stessa cosa del militarismo legato a fini di affermazione di supremazia e dominio di altri popoli. Quella dei palestinesi è una lotta che si inscrive nella scia delle lotte di liberazione coloniali, non di espansione militare. La lotta palestinese si collega oggi alle lotte di giustizia razziale e di riconoscimento dei nativi americani e degli afro-americani contro società che oggi si definiscono liberali ma che sono nate da genocidi, schiavitù e oppressione razziale. Le faccio un esempio significativo: la prima bambina Lakota nata a Standing Rock durante le lunghe proteste contro la costruzione degli olelodotti in North Dakota, che stanno espropriando e distruggendo i terre dei nativi e inquinando le acque del Missouri, era avvolta nella Kuffyah palestinese. Peraltro, il nazionalismo non è più il solo quadro di riferimento. In Palestina si lotta per la propria casa, per la propria terra, per la liberazione dalla sopraffazione dell’occupazione, dalla prigionia, per l’autodeterminazione che per molti è immaginata o orientata verso la forma di uno stato laico binazionale, almeno fino agli eventi recenti. Domani non so come emergeremo da tutto questo.
Emerge di nuovo questa cultura patriarcale della guerra, a cui come femministe ci siamo sempre opposte…
Con i distinguo che ho appena fatto e che ribadisco – ossia che non si può mettere sullo stesso piano occupanti e occupati, colonialismo e anticolonialismo -mi sento comunque di dire che una mobilitazione trasversale che aneli alla fine della occupazione deve essere possibile. Nel passato, il movimento femminista internazionalista tentava di costruire ponti tra donne palestinesi e israeliane mobilitando il lutto di madri, sorelle e figlie delle vittime della violenza. Si pensava che questo fosse un legame primario che univa nella sofferenza, attraversando le differenze. Ci si appellava alla capacità delle donne di politicizzare la vulnerabilità, convinte che nella morte e nel lutto si fosse tutte uguali. La realtà è che la disumanizzazione dei palestinesi, rafforzata dalla continua e sempre più violenta repressione israeliana, rende impossibile il superamento delle divisioni in nome di una comune umanità. Mentre i morti israeliani vengono pubblicamente compianti e sono degni di lutto per il mondo intero, i palestinesi – definiti ‘terroristi’ (anche quando hanno praticato forme non-violente di resistenza), scudi-umani, animali (e non da oggi), sono già morti -privati della qualità di umani- prima ancora di morire, e inscritti in una diversa classe di vulnerabilità, di non essenza, di disumanità.
Antropologa dell’università di Bologna Ruba Salih si interessa di antropologia politica con particolare attenzione a migrazioni e diaspore postcoloniali, rifugiati, violenza e trauma coloniale, genere corpo e memoria. Più recentemente si è occupata di decolonizzazione del sapere e Antropocene e di politiche di intersezionalità nei movimenti di protesta anti e de-coloniali. Ha ricoperto vari ruoli istituzionali tra cui membro eletto del Board of Trustees del Arab Council for the Social Sciences, dal 2015 al 2019. È stata visiting professor presso varie istituzioni tra cui Brown University, University of Cambridge e Università di Venezia, Ca’ Foscari.
▻https://left.it/2023/10/12/quei-bambini-chiusi-in-trappola-a-gaza-il-racconto-di-ruba-salih
#Gaza #Israël #Hamas #violence #prison #Palestine #violence_coloniale #siège #trauma #traumatisme #camps_de_réfugiés #réfugiés #réfugiés_palestiniens #pauvreté #bombardements #violence #dépression #peur #santé_mentale #suicide #crime_contre_l'humanité #apartheid #déshumanisation #résistance #droit_international #lutte #nationalisme #féminisme #à_lire #7_octobre_2023
Gaza between colonial trauma and genocide
In the hours following the attack of Palestinian fighters in the south of Israel Western observers, bewildered, speculated about why Hamas and the young Palestinians of Gaza, born and bred under siege and bombs, have launched an attack of this magnitude, and right now. Others expressed their surprise at the surprise.
The Israeli government responded by declaring “total war”, promising the pulverization of Gaza and demanding the inhabitants to leave the strip, knowing that there is no escape. Mobilising even the Holocaust and comparing the fighters to the Nazis, the Israeli government engaged in an operation that they claim is aimed at the destruction of Hamas.
In fact, as I am writing, Gaza is being razed to the ground with an unbearable number of Palestinian deaths which gets larger by the hour, with people fleeing under Israeli bombs, water, electricity and fuel being cut, hospitals – receiving one patient a minute – on the brink of catastrophe, and humanitarian convoys prevented from entering the strip.
An ethnic cleansing of Palestinians in Gaza is taking place with many legal observers claiming this level of violence amounts to a genocide.
But what has happened – shocking and terrible in terms of the number of victims – including children and the elderly – creates not only a new political scenario, but above all it also imposes a new frame of meaning.
Especially since the Oslo accords onwards, the emotional and interpretative filter applying to the “conflict” has been the asymmetrical valuing of one life over the other which in turn rested on an expectation of acquiescence and acceptance of the Palestinians’ subalternity as a colonised people. This framing has been shattered.
The day of the attack, millions of Palestinians inside and outside the occupied territories found themselves in a trance-like state – with an undeniable initial euphoria from seeing the prison wall of Gaza being dismantled for the first time. They were wondering whether what they had before their eyes was delirium or reality. How was it possible that the Palestinians from Gaza, confined in a few suffocating square kilometres, repeatedly reduced to rubble, managed to evade the most powerful and technologically sophisticated army in the world, using only rudimentary equipment – bicycles with wings and hang-gliders? They could scarcely believe they were witnessing a reversal of the experience of violence, accustomed as they are to Palestinian casualties piling up relentlessly under Israeli bombardments, machine gun fire and control apparatus.
Indeed, that Israel “declared war” after the attack illustrates this: to declare war assumes that before there was “peace”. To be sure, the inhabitants of Sderot and southern Israel would like to continue to live in peace. For the inhabitants of Gaza, on the other hand, peace is an abstract concept, something they have never experienced. For the inhabitants of the strip, as well as under international law, Gaza is an occupied territory whose population – two million and three hundred thousand people, of which two thirds are refugees from 1948 – lives (or to use their own words: “die slowly”) inside a prison. Control over the entry and exit of people, food, medicine, materials, electricity and telecommunications, sea, land and air borders, is in Israeli hands. International law, correctly invoked to defend the Ukrainian people and to sanction the Russian occupier, is a wastepaper for Israel, which enjoys an impunity granted to no other state that operates in such violation of UN resolutions, even disregarding agreements they themselves signed, never mind international norms and conventions.
This scaffolding has crucially rested on the certainty that Palestinians cannot and should not react to their condition, not only and not so much because of their obvious military inferiority, but in the warped belief that Palestinian subjectivity must and can accept remaining colonised and occupied, to all intents and purposes, indefinitely. The asymmetry of strength on the ground led to an unspoken – but devastatingly consequential – presumption that Palestinians would accept to be confined to a space of inferiority in the hierarchy of human life.
In this sense, what is happening these days cannot be understood and analysed with the tools of those who live in “peace”, but must be understood (insofar as this is even possible for those who do not live in Gaza or the occupied Palestinian territories) from a space defined by the effects of colonial violence and trauma. It is to Franz Fanon that we owe much of what we know about colonial violence – especially that it acts as both a physical and psychic injury. A psychiatrist from Martinique who joined the liberation struggle for independence in Algeria under French colonial rule, he wrote at length about how the immensity and duration of the destruction inflicted upon colonised subjects results in a wide and deep process of de-humanisation which, at such a profound level, also compromises the ability of the colonised to feel whole and to fully be themselves, humans among humans. In this state of physical and psychic injury, resistance is the colonised subject’s only possibility of repair. This has been the case historically in all contexts of liberation from colonial rule, a lineage to which the Palestinian struggle belongs.
It is in this light that the long-lasting Palestinian resistance of the last 75 years should be seen, and this is also the key to understanding the unprecedented events of the last few days. These are the result, as many observers – including Israeli ones – have noted, of the failure of the many forms of peaceful resistance that the Palestinians have managed to pursue, despite the occupation, and which they continue to put into play: the hunger strikes of prisoners under “administrative detention”; the civil resistance of villagers such as Bil’in or Sheikh Jarrah who are squeezed between the separation wall, the expropriation of land and homes, and suffocated by the increasingly aggressive and unstoppable expansion of settlements; the efforts to protect the natural environment and indigenous Palestinian culture, including the centuries-old olive trees so often burnt and vandalised by settlers; the Palestinian civil society organisations that map and report human rights violations – which make them, for Israel, terrorist organisations; the struggle for cultural and political memory; the endurance of refugees in refugee camps awaiting implementation of their human rights supported by UN resolutions, as well as reparation and recognition of their long term suffering; and, further back in time, the stones hurled in resistance during the first Intifada, when young people with slingshots threw those same stones with which Israeli soldiers broke their bones and lives, back to them.
Recall that, in Gaza, those who are not yet twenty years old, who make up about half the population, have already survived at least four bombing campaigns, in 2008-9, in 2012, in 2014, and again in 2022. These alone caused more than 4000 deaths.
And it is again in Gaza that the Israeli tactic has been perfected of firing on protesters during peaceful protests, such as those in 2018, to maim the bodies – a cynical necropolitical calculation of random distribution between maimed and dead. It is not surprising, then, that in post-colonial literature – from Kateb Yacine to Yamina Mechakra, just to give two examples – the traumas of colonial violence are narrated as presence and absence, in protagonists’ dreams and nightmares, of amputated bodies. This is a metaphor for a simultaneously psychic and physical maiming of the colonised identity, that continues over time, from generation to generation.
Despite their predicament as colonised for decades and their protracted collective trauma, Palestinians inside and outside of Palestine have however shown an incredible capacity for love, grief and solidarity over time and space, of which we have infinite examples in day-to-day practices of care and connectedness, in the literature, in the arts and culture, and through their international presence in other oppressed peoples’ struggles, such as Black Lives Matter and Native American Dakota protestors camps, or again in places such as the Moria camp in Greece.
The brutality of a 16 years long siege in Gaza, and the decades of occupation, imprisonment, humiliation, everyday violence, death, grief – which as we write happen at an unprecedented genocidal intensity, but are in no way a new occurrence – have not however robbed people of Gaza, as individuals, of their ability to share in the grief and fear of others.
“Striving to stay human” is what Palestinians have been doing and continue to do even as they are forced to make inhumane choices such as deciding who to rescue from under the rubbles based on who has more possibility to survive, as recounted by journalist Ahmed Dremly from Gaza during his brief and precious dispatches from the strip under the heavy shelling. This colonial violence will continue to produce traumatic effects in the generations of survivors. Yet, it has to be made clear that as the occupied people, Palestinians cannot be expected to bear the pain of the occupier. Equal standing and rights in life are the necessary preconditions for collective shared grief of death.
Mahmoud Darwish wrote, in one of his essays on the “madness” of being Palestinian, written after the massacre of Sabra and Shatila in 1982, that the Palestinian “…is encumbered by the relentless march of death and is busy defending what remains of his flesh and his dream…his back is against the wall, but his eyes remain fixed on his country. He can no longer scream. He can no longer understand the reason behind Arab silence and Western apathy. He can do only one thing, to become even more Palestinian… because he has no other choice”.
The only antidote to the spiral of violence is an end to the occupation and siege, and for Israel to fully comply with international law and to the UN resolutions, as a first and non-negotiable step. From there we can begin to imagine a future of peace and humanity for both Palestinians and Israelis.
▻https://untoldmag.org/gaza-between-colonial-trauma-and-genocide
#colonialisme #traumatisme_colonial #génocide
Can the Palestinian speak ?
It is sadly nothing new to argue that oppressed and colonised people have been and are subject to epistemic violence – othering, silencing, and selective visibility – in which they are muted or made to appear or speak only within certain perceptual views or registers – terrorists, protestors, murderers, humanitarian subjects – but absented from their most human qualities. Fabricated disappearance and dehumanisation of Palestinians have supported and continue to sustain their physical elimination and their erasure as a people.
But the weeks after October 7th have set a new bar in terms of the inverted and perverse ways that Palestinians and Israel can be represented, discussed, and interpreted. I am referring here to a new epistemology of time that is tight to a moral standpoint that the world is asked to uphold. In that, the acts of contextualising and providing historical depth are framed as morally reprehensible or straight out antisemitic. The idea that the 7th of October marks the beginning of unprecedented violence universalises the experience of one side, the Israeli, while obliterating the past decades of Palestinians’ predicament. More than ever, Palestinians are visible, legible, and audible only through the frames of Israeli subjectivity and sensibility. They exist either to protect Israel or to destroy Israel. Outside these two assigned agencies, they are not, and cannot speak. They are an excess of agency like Spivak’s subaltern,[1] or a ‘superfluous’ people as Mahmoud Darwish[2] put it in the aftermath of the Sabra and Chatila massacre. What is more is the persistent denying by Israel and its Western allies, despite the abundant historical evidence, that Palestinian indigenous presence in Palestine has always been at best absented from their gaze – ‘a problem’ to manage and contain – at worse the object of systemic and persistent ethnic cleansing and erasure aiming at fulfilling the narcissistic image of “a land without a people for a people without a land.” Yet, the erasure of Palestinians, also today in Gaza, is effected and claimed while simultaneously being denied.
A quick check of the word “Palestine” on google scholar returns one million and three hundred thousand studies, nearly half of them written from the mid 1990s onwards. Even granting that much of this scholarship would be situated in and reproducing orientalist and colonial knowledges, one can hardly claim scarcity of scholarly production on the dynamics of subalternity and oppression in Palestine. Anthropology, literary theory, and history have detected and detailed the epistemological and ontological facets of colonial and post-colonial erasure. One might thus ask: how does the persistent denial of erasure in the case of Palestinians work? We might resort to psychoanalysis or to a particular form of narcissistic behaviour known as DAVRO – Deny, Attack, and Reverse Victim and Offender[3] – to understand the current pervading and cunning epistemic violence that Israel and its allies enact. Denying the radical obstructing and effacing of Palestinian life (while effecting it through settler-colonialism, settler and state violence, siege, apartheid, and genocidal violence in Gaza) is the first stage in Israel’s and western allies’ discursive manipulation. Attacking historicisation and contextualisation as invalid, antisemitic, propaganda, hate speech, immoral, outrageous, and even contrary to liberal values is the second stage. Lastly is the Reversing Victim and Offender by presenting the war on Gaza as one where Israel is a historical victim reacting to the offender, in response to demands that Israel, as the colonial and occupying power, takes responsibility for the current cycle of violence.
This partly explains why the violent attack that Hamas conducted in the south of Israel last October, in which 1200 people were killed, is consistently presented as the start date of an ‘unprecedented’ violence, with more than 5000 Palestinians killed in carpet bombings of Gaza until 2022 doubly erased, physically and epistemically. With this, October 7th becomes the departure point of an Israeli epistemology of time assumed as universal, but it also marks an escalation in efforts to criminalise contextualisation and banish historicisation.
Since October 7th, a plurality of voices – ranging from Israeli political figures and intellectuals, to mainstream and left-leaning journalists – has condemned efforts to inscribe Gaza into a long term history of colonialism as scurrilous justification for the killing of Israeli civilians. Attempts to analyse or understand facts through a historical and political frame, by most notably drawing attention to Gazans’ lived experience over the past 16 years (as a consequence of its long term siege and occupation) or merely to argue that there is a context in which events are taking place, such as General UN director Guterres did when he stated that October 7th “did not happen in a vacuum,” are represented as inciting terrorism or morally repugnant hate speech. In the few media reports accounting for the dire and deprived conditions of Palestinians’ existence in Gaza, the reasons causing the former are hardly mentioned. For instance, we hear in reports that Palestinians in Gaza are mostly refugees, that they are unemployed, and that 80% of them are relying on aid, with trucks of humanitarian aid deemed insufficient in the last few weeks in comparison to the numbers let in before the 7th of October. Astoundingly, the 56 years old Israeli occupation and 17 years old siege of Gaza, as root causes of the destruction of the economy, unemployment, and reliance on aid are not mentioned so that the public is left to imagine that these calamities are the result of Palestinians’ own doing.
In other domains, we see a similar endeavour in preventing Palestine from being inscribed in its colonial context. Take for instance the many critical theorists who have tried to foreclose Franz Fanon’s analysis of colonial violence to Palestinians. Naming the context of colonial violence and Palestinians’ intergenerational and ongoing traumas is interpreted as morally corrupt, tantamount to not caring for Israeli trauma and a justification for the loss of Israeli lives. The variation of the argument that does refer to historical context either pushes Fanon’s arguments to the margins or argues that the existence of a Palestinian authority invalidates Fanon’s applicability to Palestine, denying therefore the effects of the violence that Palestinians as colonised subjects have endured and continue to endure because of Israeli occupation, apartheid, and siege.
But perhaps one of the most disconcerting forms of gaslighting is the demand that Palestinians should – and could – suspend their condition of subordination, their psychic and physical injury, to centre the perpetrators’ feelings and grief as their own. In fact, the issue of grief has come to global attention almost exclusively as an ethical and moral question in reaction to the loss of Israeli lives. Palestinians who accept to go on TV are constantly asked whether they condemn the October 7th attack, before they can even dare talk about their own long history of loss and dispossession, and literally while their families are being annihilated by devastating shelling and bombing and still lying under the rubbles. One such case is that of PLO ambassador to the UK Hussam Zomlot, who lost members of his own family in the current attack, but was asked by Kirsty Wark to “condemn Hamas” on screen. To put it another way: would it even be conceivable to imagine a journalist asking Israeli hostages in captivity if they condemn the Israeli bombardments and the war on Gaza as a precondition to speak and be heard?
“Condemning” becomes the condition of Palestinian intelligibility and audibility as humans, a proof that they share the universal idea that all human life is sacred, at the very moment when the sacrality of human life is violently precluded to them and when they are experiencing with brutal clarity that their existence as a people matters to no one who has the power to stop the carnage. This imperative mistakes in bad faith the principle that lives should have equal worth with a reality that for Palestinians is plainly experienced as the opposite of this postulate. Israel, on the other hand, is given “the extenuating circumstances” for looking after Israelis’ own trauma by conducting one of the most indiscriminate and ferocious attacks on civilians in decades, superior in its intensity and death rate to the devastation we saw in Afghanistan, Iraq, and Syria, according to the New York Times. Nearly 20.000 killed – mostly children, women, and elderly – razed, shelled, bulldozed while in their homes or shelters, in an onslaught that does not spare doctors, patients, journalists, academics, and even Israeli hostages, and that aims at making Gaza an unlivable habitat for the survivors.
Let us go back to the frequently invoked question of “morality.” In commentaries and op-eds over the last few weeks we are told that any mention of context for the attacks of October 7th is imperiling the very ability to be compassionate or be moral. Ranging from the Israeli government that argues that a killing machine in Gaza is justified on moral grounds – and that contextualisation and historicisation are a distraction or deviation from this moral imperative – to those who suggest Israel should moderate its violence against Palestinians – such as New York times columnist Nicholas Kristof who wrote that “Hamas dehumanized Israelis, and we must not dehumanize innocent people in Gaza” – all assign a pre-political or a-political higher moral ground to Israel. Moreover, October 7th is said to – and is felt as – having awakened the long historical suffering of the Jews and the trauma of the Holocaust. But what is the invocation of the Holocaust – and the historical experience of European antisemitism – if not a clear effort at historical and moral contextualisation? In fact, the only history and context deemed evocable and valid is the Israeli one, against the history and context of Palestinians’ lives. In this operation, Israeli subjectivity and sensibility is located above history and is assigned a monopoly of morality with October 7th becoming an a-historical and a meta-historical fact at one and the same time. In this canvas Palestinians are afforded permission to exist subject to inhabiting one of the two agencies assigned to them: guardian of Israeli life or colonised subject. This is what Israeli president Herzog means when he declares that there are no innocents in Gaza: “It’s an entire nation out there that is responsible. This rhetoric about civilians not aware, not involved, it’s absolutely not true. They could’ve risen up, they could have fought against that evil regime”. The nearly twenty thousand Palestinian deaths are thus not Israel’s responsibility. Palestinians are liable for their own disappearance for not “fighting Hamas” to protect Israelis. The Israeli victims, including hundreds of soldiers, are, on the other hand, all inherently civilians, and afforded innocent qualities. This is the context in which Heritage Minister Amichai Eliyahu, of Itamar Ben Gvir’s far-right party in power, can suggest nuking Gaza or wiping out all residents: “They can go to Ireland or deserts, the monsters in Gaza should find a solution by themselves”. Let us not here be mistaken by conceding this might just be a fantasy, a desire of elimination: the Guardian and the +972/Local call magazines have provided chilling evidence that Palestinian civilians in Gaza are not “collateral” damage but what is at work is a mass assassination factory, thanks to a sophisticated AI system generating hundreds of unverified targets aiming at eliminating as many civilians as possible.
Whether Palestinians are worthy of merely living or dying depends thus on their active acceptance or refusal to remain colonised. Any attempts to exit this predicament – whether through violent attacks like on October 7th or by staging peaceful civil tactics such as disobedience, boycott and divesting from Israel, recurrence to international law, peaceful marches, hunger strikes, popular or cultural resistance – are all the same, and in a gaslighting mode disallowed as evidence of Palestinians’ inherent violent nature which proves they need taming or elimination.
One might be compelled to believe that dehumanisation and the logic of elimination of Palestinians are a reaction to the pain, sorrow, and shock generated by the traumatic and emotional aftermath of October 7th. But history does not agree with this, as the assigning of Palestinians to a non-human or even non-life sphere is deeply rooted in Israeli public discourse. The standpoint of a people seeking freedom from occupation and siege has consistently been reversed and catalogued as one of “terror and threat” to Israeli state and society when it is a threat to their colonial expansive or confinement plans, whether the latter are conceived as divinely mandated or backed by a secular settler-colonial imaginary. In so far as “terrorists” are birthed by snakes and wild beasts as Israeli lawmaker Ayelet Shaker states, they must be exterminated. Her words bear citation as they anticipate Gaza’s current devastation with lucid clarity: “Behind every terrorist stand dozens of men and women, without whom he could not engage in terrorism. They are all enemy combatants, and their blood shall be on all their heads”. Urging the killing of all Palestinians women, men, and children and the destruction of their homes, she continued: “They should go, as should the physical homes in which they raised the snakes. Otherwise, more little snakes will be raised there. They have to die and their houses should be demolished so that they cannot bear any more terrorists.” This is not an isolated voice. Back in 2016 Prime Minister Netanyahu argued that fences and walls should be built all around Israel to defend it from “wild beasts” and against this background retired Israeli general and former head of Intelligence Giora Eiland, in an opinion article in Yedioth Aharonoth on November 19, argues that all Palestinians in Gaza die of fast spreading disease and all infrastructure be destroyed, while still positing Israel’s higher moral ground: “We say that Sinwar (Hamas leader in Gaza, ndr) is so evil that he does not care if all the residents of Gaza die. Such a presentation is not accurate, since who are the “poor” women of Gaza? They are all the mothers, sisters, or wives of Hamas murderers,” adding, “And no, this is not about cruelty for cruelty’s sake, since we don’t support the suffering of the other side as an end but as a means.”
But let us not be mistaken, such ascription of Palestinians to a place outside of history, and of humanity, goes way back and has been intrinsic to the establishment of Israel. From the outset of the settler colonial project in 1948, Palestinians as the indigenous people of the land have been dehumanised to enable the project of erasing them, in a manner akin to other settler colonial projects which aimed at turning the settlers into the new indigenous. The elimination of Palestinians has rested on more than just physical displacement, destruction, and a deep and wide ecological alteration of the landscape of Palestine to suit the newly fashioned Israeli identity. Key Israeli figures drew a direct equivalence between Palestinian life on the one hand and non-life on the other. For instance, Joseph Weitz, a Polish Jew who settled in Palestine in 1908 and sat in the first and second Transfer Committees (1937–1948) which were created to deal with “the Arab problem” (as the indigenous Palestinians were defined) speaks in his diaries of Palestinians as a primitive unity of human and non-human life.[4] Palestinians and their habitat were, in his words, “bustling with man and beast,” until their destruction and razing to the ground in 1948 made them “fossilized life,” to use Weitz’ own words. Once fossilised, the landscape could thus be visualised as an empty and barren landscape (the infamous desert), enlivened and redeemed by the arrival of the Jewish settlers.
Locating events within the context and long durée of the incommensurable injustices inflicted upon the Palestinians since 1948 – which have acquired a new unimaginable magnitude with the current war on Gaza – is not just ethically imperative but also politically pressing. The tricks of DARVO (Denying Attacking and Reversing Victim and Offender) have been unveiled. We are now desperately in need of re-orienting the world’s moral compass by exposing the intertwined processes of humanisation and dehumanisation of Jewish Israelis and Palestinians. There is no other way to begin exiting not only the very conditions that usher violence, mass killings, and genocide, but also towards effecting the as yet entirely fictional principle that human lives have equal value.
[1] Spivak, G. “Can the Subaltern Speak?” (1988). In Lawrence Grossberg and Cary Nelson, eds., Marxism and the Interpretation of Culture, pp. 271–313. Urbana: University of Illinois Press; Basingstoke: Macmillan.
[2] Mahmoud Darwish, “The Madness of Being a Palestinian,” Journal Of Palestine Studies 15, no. 1 (1985): 138–41.
[3] Heartfelt thanks to Professor Rema Hamami for alerting me to the notion of DAVRO and for her extended and invaluable comments on this essay.
[4] Cited in Benvenisti M (2000) Sacred Landscape: The Buried History of the Holy Land since 1948. Berkeley: University of California Press. pp.155-156.
▻https://allegralaboratory.net/can-the-palestinian-speak
#violence_épistémique #élimination #in/visilité #nettoyage_ethnique #oppression #DAVRO
À l’approche de Noël, il peut arriver d’être à court d’idées de cadeaux. Pour t’aider, nous t’avons préparé une sélection spéciale Noël d’idées cadeaux à (s’) offrir !
Pour tes potes féministes, taon partenaire ou ta famille, notre collection Bad Bitches Only ou nos jeux de discussions Discultons et Constellations sauront te combler !
Découvres aussi notre tout nouveau Calendrier féministe et queer dans lequel représentation et inclusivité sont de mises ! Nous t’avons aussi composé des packs spéciaux pour Noël à prix réduit alors n’hésites pas à en profiter ! 🎁
Cette année, Noël sera éthique, inspirant, féministe et solidaire‧▻https://www.playgendergames.com/collections/noel-feministe #féminisme#bad_bitches#queer#jeu
Marre du rose. Jouets : stop aux stéréotypes sexistes !
À l’approche de Noël, la distinction entre les rayons de jouets pour « filles » et les rayons pour les « garçons » s’accroît. Rose pour les filles, bleu pour les garçons. La campagne Marre du Rose, créée avec Pépite Sexiste et Les Chiennes de Garde, vise à lutter contre le sexisme dont les grandes enseignes font preuve.
▻https://entreleslignesentrelesmots.wordpress.com/2023/12/22/marre-du-rose-jouets-stop-aux-stereotypes-sexi
« Je suis juste un homme… »
Quelle phrase terrible ! Mais tellement révélatrice. Employée par Gérard Depardieu dans sa lettre ouverte publiée dans le journal Le Figaro, le 1er octobre dernier, alors qu’il est mis en examen depuis le 16 décembre 2020 dans le cadre d’une enquête pour viols et agressions sexuelles, cette phrase sonne comme une excuse et un aveu à la fois. [Coup de gueule]
En lisant la lettre ouverte de Gérard Depardieu, parue dans le Figaro dimanche 1er octobre dernier, je suis tombée sur cette phrase « Je suis juste un homme… », et cette phrase est entrée en résonance avec une autre phrase, presque identique mot pour mot, prononcée par mon agresseur, il y a quelques années.
Il n’était, lui aussi, qu’un homme. Comme Depardieu.
Mais qu’est-ce que ça veut dire ?
Dans leur bouche, n’être qu’un homme justifiait de désirer une femme et d’outrepasser son consentement.
▻https://entreleslignesentrelesmots.wordpress.com/2023/12/21/je-suis-juste-un-homme
De part et d’autre des Pyrénées : l’IVG dans la Constitution ou devant un tribunal !
omme prévu Emmanuel Macron a présenté ce jour en Conseil des Ministres le projet de loi inscrivant le droit à l’IVG dans la Constitution. Et comme prévu, il a retenu la formulation votée au Sénat en février dernier qui stipule : « La loi détermine les conditions dans lesquelles s’exerce la liberté garantie à la femme d’avoir recours à une interruption volontaire de grossesse ».
Ce projet de loi n’assure en rien contre d’éventuelles régressions sur les dites « conditions » type par exemple supprimer le remboursement de l’IVG ou interdire l’IVG aux mineures sans autorisation parentale. L’ajout du mot « garantie » ne change en l’occurrence rien à l’affaire. Nous réclamons un droit comme l’a voté l’Assemblée nationale, notre revendication est constante.
▻https://entreleslignesentrelesmots.wordpress.com/2023/12/20/de-part-et-dautre-des-pyrenees-livg-dans-la-co
« METOO N’A PAS ATTEINT NOS QUARTIERS POPULAIRES »
Les Clandestines : Neuf femmes victimes de violences conjugales se battent pour éviter un autre féminicide dans leur cité
À Rennes, neuf militantes se font appeler Les Clandestines. Toutes victimes de violences conjugales, elles font de leur passé une force pour aider d’autres femmes du quartier de Villejean et empêcher de nouveaux féminicides.
▻https://www.streetpress.com/sujet/1702640348-rennes-femmes-lutte-feminicide-violences-sexistes-conjugales
▻https://entreleslignesentrelesmots.wordpress.com/2023/09/28/violences-faites-aux-femmes-les-intentions-ne-suffisent-pas/#comment-59757
Contre les violences faites aux femmes partout dans le monde
e suis militante pour la Marche mondiale des femmes au Québec (CQMMF) et c’est à ce nom que je prends la parole aujourd’hui. Les militantes de la Marche mondiale des femmes (MMF) se sont mobilisées au début des 12 jours d’action, c’est-à-dire, le 25 novembre, journée pour l’élimination des violences faites aux femmes.
Cette journée est soulignée à l’échelle internationale, puisque la montée des violences et des féminicides, n’est pas propre au Québec. Non, partout dans le monde, on assiste, encore en 2023, à l’utilisation de la violence comme outil de contrôle du corps des femmes (aberrant de se considérer civiliser en sachant cela).
Je me souviens, il y a quelques années, tout prêt de la pandémie, j’étais en rencontre virtuelle avec des militantes de la MMF d’ailleurs dans le monde. Elles témoignaient de leurs inquiétudes face à la montée des féminicides et ça me heurtait de réaliser que, malgré nos contextes si différents, on observait un problème autant similaire.
▻https://entreleslignesentrelesmots.wordpress.com/2023/12/19/contre-les-violences-faites-aux-femmes-partout
[Émissions spéciales] Le foot, un monde de #femmes ?
▻https://www.radiopanik.org/emissions/emissions-speciales/le-foot-un-monde-de-femmes
Un débat radio proposé par l’Agence Alter en collaboration avec Bruxelles Nous Appartient.
Depuis quelques années, le nombre de joueuses affiliées à un club de #football est en forte augmentation en Belgique. Les différentes fédérations s’y mettent également, en multipliant les programmes destinés à encourager la pratique du football par les filles et les femmes, que ce soit au niveau mondial, Européen et Belge. On voit aussi certains clubs s’investir dans ce développement et on sent grandit l’intérêt médiatique pour les compétitions internationales de Foot au #féminin. Est-ce un signe que le monde du ballon rond est enfin en état de marche pour s’ouvrir à la moitié de l’humanité (...)
#féminisme #agence_alter #bna-bbot #féminisme,football,femmes,agence_alter,bna-bbot,féminin
▻https://www.radiopanik.org/media/sounds/emissions-speciales/le-foot-un-monde-de-femmes_17009__1.mp3
Auto-défense verbale féministe
▻https://infokiosques.net/spip.php?article2052
"Le mec qui te siffle dans la rue. L’autre qui commente comment t’es habillé-e, comment t’es trop bonne ou trop gros-se. Celui qui prend toute la place dans le bus, en concert ou dans les débats. L’autre qui t’insulte, te bouscule, te regarde d’un air supérieur du genre « femme, pousse-toi, tais-toi, ou souris-moi car le monde m’appartient et tu es là à ma disposition ». Les mains au cul, aux nichons. Être pris-e par la main, par l’épaule, par la taille alors que t’as pas envie de ça. Des propos qui mêlent sexisme et racisme. Tes parents qui te demandent quand est-ce que tu vas te marier et avoir des enfants. Les « bonjour, Messieurs Dames, euh pardon Mesdames ». Le médecin qui veut absolument que tu prennes des hormones parce que t’as trop de poils pour une fille. Etc, etc. Il y #A plein de (...)
#Infokiosque_fantôme_partout_ #Féminisme,_questions_de_genre #Violences_patriarcales,_autodéfense_féministe
▻https://infokiosques.net/IMG/pdf/auto-defense_verbale_feministe-52pa5-pageparpage-2014.pdf
▻https://infokiosques.net/IMG/pdf/autodefense_verbale_feministe-cahier-26pa4-2014.pdf
Construisons un monde sans porno, sans prostitution (Deux parties)
Première partie : le porno, un maillon du système prostitueur
Construisons un monde sans porno, sans prostitution (2/2)
La liberté comme l’égalité, c’est pour tout-es ou pour personne
Le système prostitutionnel est une organisation patriarcale, dernier bastion d’une longue histoire où le désir de l’homme a toujours primé sur celui de la femme. Le féminisme est donc abolitionniste… puisqu’il remet le désir et la volonté des femmes au centre. Quant à l’abolitionnisme, il n’a jamais tué personne, alors que le système prosti-tueur tue tous les jours…
L’industrie du sexe est devenue au XXIe siècle un marché tentaculaire dont les ramifications ne cessent de croître avec les nouvelles technologies et l’avènement d’un capitalisme mondialisé. C’est un secteur pesant des centaines de milliards de dollars par an et qui repose sur l’exploitation de la personne humaine et de ses vulnérabilités (pauvreté, origine, migration, etc.).
▻https://entreleslignesentrelesmots.wordpress.com/2023/12/16/construisons-un-monde-sans-porno-sans-prostitu
Alternatives féministes aux dilemmes de l’humanité : affronter le capitalisme dans le présent
Lisez le discours sur les stratégies internationalistes de l’organisation anticapitaliste, tenu lors de la conférence Dilemmes de l’humanité
La Marche Mondiale des Femmes est ancrée dans une tradition internationaliste. C’est aussi le fruit du combat de toute une vie de la compagne Nalu Faria. Nous suivons les tâches que Nalu nous a laissées – qui sont nombreuses, pour nous toutes et tous, combattants et combattantes du monde qui l’avons rencontrée, qui ont croisé son dévouement, son engagement et ses accumulations.
Je commencerai donc par deux réflexions que Nalu nous a toujours apportées. La première est l’importance de construire l’internationalisme, de comprendre que les luttes socialistes et féministes sont antisystémiques et doivent être internationales, entre camarades du monde entier. La deuxième réflexion porte sur l’importance du processus ; non seulement l’importance de cet espace que nous construisons aujourd’hui, mais le processus qui nous a amenées ici et aussi ce qui est déclenché à partir de cet espace.
▻https://entreleslignesentrelesmots.wordpress.com/2023/12/15/alternatives-feministes-aux-dilemmes-de-lhuman
Pour l’élection (rapide) de Bernard Cerquiglini à l’Académie !
130 féministes s’étaient adressé·es au Président de la République après sa sortie sur le neutre et les points jetés dans les mots « pour rendre la langue illisible » (Le Monde des 7-8 nov.). C’est Bernard Cerquiglini qui répond. Le linguiste n’a pourtant pas lu ladite tribune, mais il en profite pour faire connaitre son nouveau positionnement.
Voilà déjà quelque temps que je soupçonne Bernard Cerquiglini de vouloir entrer à l’Académie française. Pourquoi pas ? Il y aurait davantage sa place que bien des incompétent·es qui y occupent un siège sans intérêt pour la nation ni pour la langue française. Mais faut-il pour autant donner tant de gages ? Lui qui critiqua longtemps la « vieille dame du Quai Conti » ne cesse plus de lui faire des sourires au fil de ses interviews. Lui qui chanta avec enthousiasme la vitalité de la langue française appelle aujourd’hui à tout arrêter concernant sa reféminisation (ou sa démasculinisation, comme on préfère). Lui qui partage les tenants et les aboutissants du « tract » des « linguistes atterré·es » (Le français va très bien, merci, Gallimard, 2023) ne l’a pas signé. La Compagnie serait-elle en train de le « marionnettiser », pour reprendre le joli mot dont elle use (et s’amuse) à propos des candidats à qui elle fait multiplier les courbettes en leur promettant l’investiture ? Je laisse candidats au masculin, car pour l’instant je n’ai guère vu de femme donner dans ce registre ; et je renvoie, sur cette coutume, à l’excellent livre de Daniel Garcia, Coupole et dépendances. Enquête sur l’Académie française (2014).
▻https://entreleslignesentrelesmots.wordpress.com/2023/12/14/pour-lelection-rapide-de-bernard-cerquiglini-a
’I Had to Be the Voice of Women’ : The First Female Hijacker Shares Her Story
▻https://www.vice.com/en/article/9k99k7/leila-khaled-first-female-hijacker-profile
Une brève biographie de la miltante palestinienne Leila Khaled
« Vice » classe cette interview avec la militante palestinienne Leila Khaled sous « identité ». Par cette ruse la rédaction fait disparaître sa cause, son combat contre l’injustice et les responsables de l’injustice derrière cet écran de fumée composé de tolérance identitaire et fausses présomptions.. Pourtant son témoignage explique ses mobiles et fait comprendre pourquo il y a des situations où la lutte non-violente n’a plus de raison d’être et les causes politiques ne peuvent se faire entendre que par le combat armé.
Nous pouvons nous estimer heureux que nous vvions en Europe centrale toujours sous des conditions relativement paisibles malgré l’oppression et l’exploitation des classes populaires de plus en plus brutale.
4.8.2016.by Leila Ettachfini - On August 29, 1969, 25-year-old Leila Khaled made her way into the cockpit of TWA Flight 870 and commandeered the plane on behalf of the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine. After that, she became known equally as an icon and a terrorist.
On April 9, 1948, a young Palestinian girl from Haifa celebrated her fourth birthday, and between 100 and more than 250 Palestinian villagers were killed at the hands of the Irgun and Lehi, two paramilitary Zionist organizations, in what came to be known as the Deir Yassin massacre. The massacre proved to the girl’s family that they could no longer keep their eight children safe in their home country—they would have to flee. In the days following the bloodshed, the little girl, Leila Khaled, became a refugee. Twenty-one years later she would become the world’s first female hijacker.
Deir Yassin was the first large-scale massacre of Palestinians in the history of the Palestine/Israel conflict, and it was only the beginning of similar tragedies. It preceded the beginning of the 1948 Palestinian exodus—also known as the Nakba, literally “the disaster” in Arabic—by one month. Though Khaled’s parents hoped fleeing the country would increase their children’s chances at a safe and normal life—and by many historical accounts, they were safer fleeing than staying home—this did not mean that their new lives as refugees were free of struggle and danger. When Khaled’s family left Palestine, they headed to the Dahiya, a suburb south of Beirut that has been home to thousands of Palestinian refugees since 1948. The location of major refugee camps like Sabra and Shatila, the Dahiya is a place all too familiar with instability and deadly attacks, committed by both Israeli forces as well as right-wing Christian Lebanese groups like the Phalangists. Overall, it is a poverty-stricken area populated mostly by refugees and Lebanon’s own lower class. For four-year-old Khaled, it was her new home.
Now 72, Leila Khaled agreed to Skype me from her home in Jordan in late June. She sat in her living room wearing thin-framed eyeglasses and a hot pink shirt with traditional white embroidery—quite the opposite image to the woman in the iconic photo of Khaled in her youth, wearing a military shirt and keffiyeh, the typically black-and-white scarf that has come to symbolize Middle Eastern pride, and holding an AK-47. On her hand she wears a ring made from the pin of the first grenade she ever used in training.
Khaled described her childhood as, simply, “miserable,” living in a state of uncertainty about both her country and her family. When they left their country initially, her father stayed behind to fight for Palestine; he would join his wife and their children in the Dahiya six months after they made the initial journey. Growing up, Khaled recalls asking her parents two questions constantly: “Why are we living like this?” and “When are we going back?”
Based on the current state of Palestine, the latter may seem naive, but it was not entirely so at the time. In December of 1948 the UN adopted Resolution 194, which stated that, “refugees wishing to return to their homes and live at peace with their neighbours should be permitted to do so at the earliest practicable date.” Because Israel never complied, Khaled and many other refugee children continued to ask when they would return home well into adulthood.
As is the case with many refugee families, especially in the Dahiya, the Khaleds faced poverty. “I never had a whole pencil,” Khaled told me, “always half. My mother used to cut it into two so every child could go to school.” Despite this, the Khaleds had it better than most refugee families who did not have the family connections in Lebanon that provided Leila and her family with shelter and food. Still, they, like many others, relied on UNRWA, the United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestinian refugees.
By the late 50s, the atmosphere of the area echoed the “rise of the national spirit,” according to Khaled, and she often participated in the frequent public demonstrations in her community meant to raise awareness for the plight of the Palestinian people. It was then that her involvement within the Palestinian resistance began to evolve from passive to active. Many of her older siblings had joined the Arab Nationalist Movement (ANM), which declared the liberation of Palestine as one of its main goals. In her early teens, though Khaled was not allowed to fight with the ANM quite yet, she contributed by providing fighters with food and support even in the middle of dangerous battles. At age 16 she was accepted as an official member.
In 1967, at age 23, Khaled joined the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine, or the PFLP, despite her mother’s wishes. According to Sarah Irving’s book Leila Khaled: Icon of Palestinian Liberation, Khaled’s mother told her, “Let your brothers go and be fighters.” But Leila Khaled did not want to be on the sidelines of the movement. “Calling for armed struggle—it was my dream,” she told me.
The PFLP is considered a terrorist organization by countries like the US and the EU; its political leanings are usually described as secular and Marxist-Leninist. When the PFLP was formed, Khaled says, it was clear that it wanted both men and women actively involved in the resistance. When she was assigned to partake in a hijacking in 1969, she viewed the assignment as the PFLP upholding that idea.
On August 29, 1969, Khaled and fellow PFLP member Salim Issawi hijacked TWA Flight 840 on its way from Rome to Tel Aviv. Khaled boarded the plane with a hand grenade and pistol. Once in the air, the two revealed their weapons, made their way into the cockpit, and said, “This is the Palestinian movement taking over your airplane,” according to Harry Oakley, the co-pilot. They then instructed the pilots to redirect the plane to Damascus, but not before flying over Palestine. “It was my happiest moment,” she said, “when we flew over Palestine and I saw my city, Haifa—not the hijacking.”
Despite being a young woman about to attempt a mission that would either end her life or change it forever, Khaled was not nervous. “The contrary,” she told me, “I was happy because I was doing something for my people.” As for the purpose of the hijacking, Khaled is just as straightforward there. “It was meant to put the question in front of the whole world: Who are the Palestinians? After 1948, we were dealt with as refugees who needed human aid and that’s it—not recognizing our right of return. Also, to release the prisoners.”
Upon landing, Khaled and Issawi evacuated the Boeing 707, and Issawi proceeded to blow up the nose of the aircraft as it lay empty on the cement. “We had instructions not to harm passengers,” said Khaled. “Very strict instructions not to hurt anyone, and to deal with the pilot and the crew with politeness—not to frighten them even.” Still, Khaled knows that her actions did, of course, frighten the innocent passengers, but to her, their momentary fear was a small a price to pay in order to put the suffering of her people on the world’s stage.
In a post-9/11 world, it’s hard to imagine, but in 1969, hijackings were a relatively new tactic and not considered death sentences to the extent that they are now. Video footage of the passengers aboard TWA flight 840 shows a crowd that is relatively calm—some even express an understanding of Khaled and Issawi’s actions. In video footage of interviews with the passengers after the plane landed, one man reasons, “There was an Israeli assassin on board who was responsible for the deaths of many Arab women and children, and all they wanted to do was bring this assassin to a friendly Arab city and give him a fair trial.” The “assassin” the man is referring to was Yitzhak Rabin; at the time, he was Israel’s ambassador to the United States and was scheduled to be on TWA flight 840 that day, though a last-minute change of plans made it so he was not. Despite the understanding of some, like this passenger, many were understandably upset and shaken.
After six weeks of off-and-on hunger strikes and questioning in Syria, Khaled and Issawi were released. While they were in jail, Syria made negotiations with Israel that resulted in the release of Palestinian prisoners who had been kept in Israeli prisons. This—and the frenzy of attention that labeled Khaled a hero among many Palestinians, as well as put the Palestinian story on the world’s stage—was enough for Khaled to deem the mission a success.
Others, however, including many Palestinians, did not agree. For one, whether Khaled knew it at the time or not, this hijacking would tie the word terrorism to the Palestinian resistance for years to come. Many thought her mission tainted their image in front of the world; rather than refugees in need, Palestinians were now terrorists who didn’t deserve sympathy. In 2006 Palestinian–Swedish filmmaker Lina Makboul made a documentary called Leila Khaled: Hijacker. The film ends when Makboul asks Khaled, “Didn’t you ever think that what you were doing would give the Palestinians a bad reputation?”
Then, the interview cuts out. “By not having her answer in it,” Makboul told me, “I wanted to show that in the end it actually doesn’t matter—because she did it.”
Still, I was glad to have the opportunity to ask Khaled myself. “I told [Makboul], I think I added to my people, not offended the Palestinian struggle,” said Khaled.
It makes sense that Khaled was proud of her mission—for one year later, she would do it again. This time, though, it was with a different face.
After the first hijacking, Leila Khaled quickly became an icon within the Palestinian resistance. Posters of her famous photo were printed out and hung around refugee camps that occupied the West Bank, Gaza, and the diaspora. She was well known—a problem for two reasons. One, she never wanted personal fame; in fact, she found it pretty annoying. “Some would ask me, ’How many hours do you spend in the mirror?’” she said, “as if this was a question of any logic.” She often refused to answer. “We’d be happy to answer all the questions dealing with the cause itself,” she said, “the core issues, why the conflict, who is oppressing who, and so on—these are the main issues that we want to raise in front of the media. Not whether I have a boyfriend or not. That doesn’t mean anything.”
The second issue was that being very recognizable made it difficult to continue her work with the PFLP. In 1970, Khaled was appointed to participate in another hijacking mission, but her new notoriety meant she could no longer fly under the radar like she had before. Still, no measure was too drastic when it came to the question of Palestine: Between the first hijacking and the second, Khaled underwent six total plastic surgeries in Lebanon.
On September 6, 1970, Khaled and a man named Patrick Argüello, a Nicaraguan–American who volunteered with the PFLP, attempted to hijack a plane on its way from Amsterdam to New York City. This time, Khaled’s mission did not run so smoothly. After moving to the cockpit and threatening to blow up the plane, Khaled was tackled in the air by guards and passengers while carrying two hand grenades and a pistol. In an attempt to defend her, Argüello fired at those tackling her, but he was shot and later died of his injuries. Simultaneously, the pilot of El Al flight 219 cleverly dropped the plane into a nosedive; Khaled lost balance, making her more vulnerable to attack, despite the visible weapons she carried.
This operation was a part of a series of PFLP missions known as the Dawson’s Field hijackings. (Dawson’s Field is the deserted airstrip in Jordan where Khaled and Argüello were supposed to force the plane to land.) With Khaled knocked out by the men who tackled her and broke her ribs—and Argüello dead—the plane made an emergency landing in London. In her autobiography, My People Shall Live, Khaled writes, “I should have been the one to be killed because it was my struggle and he was here to support us.”
After being taken to the hospital, Khaled was held and questioned by British authorities while the PFLP held the passengers who were aboard the rest of the hijacked aircrafts hostage at Dawson’s Field and attempted to negotiate with the countries they were from. The majority were released in Amman a few days later, but the PFLP kept 40, arguing that they were members of the Israeli army and thus “prisoners of war.” On September 30, British authorities let Khaled walk free as part of a negotiated deal with the PFLP; several Palestinian prisoners were also freed from European prisons.
Upon her release, Khaled went back to Beirut and back to work, though she was constantly on the move to ensure her safety. In November of 1970, not two months after she left prison, she married the man who first taught her how to hold arms. He was a military commander in the PFLP who had previously been jailed for ten years in Iraq, where he was from, for his involvement in the Communist Party. But as tensions in Jordan were on the rise and Khaled’s husband felt pressure to go fight with his men, their relationship began to disintegrate. When Khaled could no longer ignore Israeli threats and decided to go into hiding, it was clear that their marriage was no longer working; the couple decided to get a divorce.
In 1973 Khaled decided to move to the Shatila refugee camp in Beirut. (Shatila is widely known for the massacre of 1982, where death toll estimates are between 700 to 3,500 people—mass graves and a failure to investigate by the Lebanese government account for the wide range.) Fed up with her widespread, international attention, Khaled wanted to be in a humble place. “To be under light all the time was not comfortable for me,” she said. “For this reason I went and lived in Sabra and Shatila camp—to be with the people and work with the people.”
When Khaled visits Shatila with Lina Makboul in her documentary, she is visibly welcomed as a hero. “I have always dreamt of walking beside you,” a man says to her as she makes her way through the camp on her way to visit an old comrade. Another points to her jokingly, “Do you know Leila Khaled? She is a terrorist!”
Though Khaled is widely known for the hijackings that took place more than 40 years ago, she has been anything but absent from the resistance since then. In the aftermath of her hijackings, Leila Khaled became involved in the General Union of Palestinian Women (GUPW) and a member of the Palestinian National Council (PNC). Threats against her safety were a part of her daily life and frequently materialized. On Christmas 1975, she came home to find her sister and her sister’s fiancé shot dead in her apartment. She had been the target.
In 1978 she left Lebanon to study history in the Soviet Union, where she met her second husband, a medical student and fellow PFLP member, Fayez Hilal. But two years after she began her studies, the resistance called—she was back in Lebanon working at the Palestinian Liberation Organization (PLO) office. Khaled and Hilal had two children in the 80s, Badar and Bashar.
It was never easy being a woman in the resistance, let alone a mother—she was expected to speak for the entire female Palestinian population. “I had to be the voice of women, those who nobody sees,” she said. Still, she maintains that the victims in the conflict are the Palestinian people in general—not women or men. “To feel injustice and be conscious of who is oppressing you—you will act as a human being, whether you are a woman or a man,” she said. “Men were fighting; they gave their lives. Women also gave their lives. Men and women went to jail.”
Today, Khaled is an icon of not only the Palestinian resistance against the Israeli occupation, but also of the Palestinian women’s movement. “The revolution changed the image of the Palestinian woman,” she said. “They are also in the revolution on an equal basis—they can do whatever the revolution needs.”
When Khaled is asked about religion, she is firm that her enemy has never been Judaism. After her second hijacking, Khaled was rushed to a hospital in London, where a cop informed her that her doctor was Jewish. Khaled didn’t mind. “I was against Zionists, not Jews,” Khaled later told Sarah Irving. “[The cop] did not understand the difference, and I was in too much pain to explain.”
Unlike most notorious terrorist organizations today, Khaled’s organization, the PFLP, has a secular reputation. It was the last week of Ramadan when I spoke to Khaled, but she told me that she isn’t particularly religious. “I think that whatever you are—you believe in Islam, or Christianity, or in Judaism—this is something personal,” she told me. When I asked if she practices Islam, she said, “I practice the values of humanity. These values are also mentioned in Islam: to be honest, to help the poor.”
Khaled has been called both an Arab-Marxist hijacker and a freedom fighter, regarded as both a terrorist and a hero. When I asked her to define terrorism, she said it was “occupation.” The Leila Khaled on my Skype screen had been through much more than the young woman in the photo with her head loosely wrapped in a keffiyeh, but fundamentally the two are much the same. The terrorist/freedom fighter debate may be relative when it comes to Khaled, but her unwavering devotion and passion for Palestine is indisputable. “I’m from a family who believes in Islam,” she said, “but I’m not a fanatic. I’m a fanatic about Palestine and about my people.”
#Palestine #PFLP #histoire #nakba #marxisme #sionisme #féminisme #moyen_orient
Précarité des femmes sans statut
Samira Jasmin, militante à Solidarité sans frontière, sans papier pendant 10 ans et membre du comité des 12 jours d’action contre les violences faites aux femmes, nous offre son témoignage
▻https://entreleslignesentrelesmots.wordpress.com/2023/12/12/precarite-des-femmes-sans-statut
Catherine Le Magueresse : « Violences sexuelles il faut réformer le droit !
A la veille de nouvelles discussions sur la définition du viol au Parlement européen, Nous publions à nouveau cette tribune écrite en 2011 par Catherine Le Magueresse, juriste. Un texte toujours d’actualité… car les résistances sont puissantes !
▻https://www.lesnouvellesnews.fr/catherine-le-magueresse-violences-sexuelles-il-faut-reformer-le-dro
▻https://entreleslignesentrelesmots.wordpress.com/2023/02/05/viol-et-justice-des-victimes-presumees-consentantes/#comment-59687
La guerre, les femmes et les viols : on vous croit
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▻https://entreleslignesentrelesmots.wordpress.com/2023/12/11/la-guerre-les-femmes-et-les-viols-on-vous-croi
Les féminicides se multiplient au Canada… et ailleurs dans le monde.
Il est temps d’admettre que le massacre de l’École polytechnique a été un attentat terroriste antiféministe.
Décrit à l’origine comme un simple « événement tragique », 34 ans plus tard, il est temps de nommer le massacre de femmes du 6 décembre 1989 pour ce qu’il a réellement été : un attentat terroriste antiféministe.
Anne St-Arneault, 23 ans ; Geneviève Bergeron, 21 ans ; Hélène Colgan, 23 ans ; Nathalie Croteau, 23 ans ; Barbara Daigneault, 22 ans ; Anne-Marie Edward, 21 ans ; Maud Haviernick, 29 ans ; Barbara Klueznick, 31 ans ; Maryse Laganière, 25 ans ; Maryse Leclair, 23 ans ; Anne-Marie Lemay, 22 ans ; Sonia Pelletier, 23 ans ; Michèle Richard, 21 ans ; et Annie Turcotte, 21 ans.
La plupart des personnes lisant ceci reconnaîtront les noms des 13 étudiantes en ingénierie et de l’assistante administrative assassinées par un tireur à l’École polytechnique de Montréal le 6 décembre 1989.
▻https://entreleslignesentrelesmots.wordpress.com/2023/12/10/les-feminicides-se-multiplient-au-canada-et-ai
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En Inde, la déforestation et le patriarcat vont de pair ; par conséquent, le féminisme et l’écologie doivent également se construire ensemble
Sehjo Singh fait partie de la Confluence des alternatives (en hindou, Vikalp de Sangam), une articulation d’organisations et de mouvements de défense de la nature, des communautés et de la souveraineté alimentaire en Inde. Sehjo a accordé cette interview lors de la 13e Rencontre internationale de la Marche mondiale des femmes, à Ankara, Turquie. Lors de la rencontre, la présence de délégations de pays asiatiques parmi les militantes du mouvement et les organisations alliées était significative.
À l’occasion, Capire a parlé avec Sehjo de l’histoire de la construction du féminisme en Inde et des résistances et alternatives actuelles proposées par les femmes de la région. Selon Sehjo, les confrontations anti-patriarcales impliquent une critique du système des castes et de la lutte pour la terre, basée sur la réalité et les besoins des femmes populaires. Pour elle, la première bataille à mener est de reconnaître la centralité des agricultrices dans la production alimentaire et dans la garantie de la biodiversité : « Cela ne veut pas dire que les femmes contribuent – je dirais que ce sont les femmes qui la soutiennent ».
▻https://entreleslignesentrelesmots.wordpress.com/2023/12/09/sehjo-singh-le-systeme-des-castes-a-besoin-du-