In 1980, James Baldwin wrote in The Nation: “The children are always ours, every single one of them, all over the globe; and I am beginning to suspect that whoever is incapable of recognizing this may be incapable of morality.” Are the more than 50,000 children killed or injured in Gaza not also ours?
As the world watches, people in Gaza continue to suffer unimaginable horrors. They are shot at, bombed, intentionally starved, all while hospitals are destroyed, medical supplies run out, and Israel withholds food and supplies at the borders. The Palestinians are treated as disposable. Omar El Akkad writes in “One day, everyone will have always been against this”: "When those dying are deemed human enough to warrant discussion, discussion must be had. When they're deemed nonhuman, discussion becomes offensive, an affront to civility."
Tomorrow, more Palestinian people will die. Food is sometimes just meters away, but out of reach for a population of largely women and children who are intentionally being starved. The cruelty is boundless. As women, as scientists, as human beings, we are outraged. We are heartbroken.
Where is our collective humanity? Can we not tell wrong from right anymore?
Speaking out about Palestine is dangerous. It gets you labeled as antisemitic. It gets you thrown into jail or deported. The threat of being seen as antisemitic is weaponized to silence dissent, to shut down free speech and academic freedom, to strip away education and science funding. We are supposed to focus our advocacy on science, as if the plight of genocided people elsewhere in the world is immaterial. As if our humanity is not a central part of doing science.
The catastrophic humanitarian crisis in Gaza—entering its 21st month—is our lane. The public health disaster across Gaza is our lane. The complete destruction of infrastructure that supported science and education is our lane. The intentional starvation of a largely civilian population is our lane. The murder of women and children is our lane. Women giving birth with little medical support, and dying, is our lane. Babies who can’t get formula is our lane. The ongoing apartheid imposed by Israel on Palestine, supported materially and politically by the US and other western nations is our lane. Justice is our lane.
When we hold our children, we see the faces of Palestinian children, covered in ash and blood, searching for their murdered family in the rubble as Israel sends more missiles to finish off survivors. We are broken by the sight. We see images of parents carrying dead children and we choke back screams. We can’t sleep at night, can you?
We are adding our group’s voice to the growing chorus of outrage, not because we think our voice will change something but because adding our voice to others might. We know that “there is no such thing as someone else’s children." It is not too late to demand justice for Palestine.
Photo by Matt Gross on Unsplash