I had a few reactions to the University of Michigan walkout video. First, I was amazed at the numerical superiority of the protesters. I couldn’t help but feel that the Hillelniks or whoever organized the event failed to provide basic moral support to the hasbara fellows at the front of the classroom. It makes me wonder how many Zionists are the fair-weather types.
That emotion intermingled with a little pride as the video played on. We’ve undoubtedly come a long way – and for sure there’s a lot to do – but we deserve a few moral victories here and there if only for sustenance’s sake. We can bask in the significance of a mass walk-out during an attack by two IDF drones in a Michigan classroom without overstating the importance of the event.
And finally, I was a little embarrassed. I’m the kind of person who always cringes in socially awkward situations. I mean, sure these guys are part of the machinery (projectiles or cogs?) that massacres, deprives, stunts, ethnically cleanses, marauders, hacks, maims, mangles, thieves, imprisons, and pillages the Palestinians, but don’t they deserve a fair hearing – at least so I can avoid the acuteness of my social anxiety?
No, of course they don’t. But it made me wonder how much of the West indulged the omnivorous Israeli state out of a sense of politeness. I’m sure I read somewhere that making a scene is a WASPs worst nightmare ever (and other people’s too, I suspect). Would I ever be comfortable saying to Ehud Olmert, “You’d be hanged in a civilized state for the crimes you perpetrated against the civilians in Gaza,” in an academic setting? I might be, but a Ban Ki-moon (or Salam Fayyad) wouldn’t.
It was after that that I was overcome by a sense of empathy. During the walkout, one of the army tools issues a plaintive plea: “Can you stay so you can ask questions?” He spoke in an excruciatingly obsequious tone. He was begging.
And really, why not stay? Perhaps this human being has a point of view. And maybe that point of view is valid and reflective of a prism I’ve never conceived of. He has feelings, and I wondered if I might choke back anger, shame and disappointment at being treated so crudely. Imagine, your voice is negated and occluded by a mass collective refusing to listen. There was something familiar about this.
That’s when it occurred to me – the army stooge was a Palestinian, perhaps for the first time.
