Affichage des articles dont le libellé est Zionihilism. Afficher tous les articles
Affichage des articles dont le libellé est Zionihilism. Afficher tous les articles

18/03/2026

Jürgen Habermas: In Lieu of an Obituary

In the first two or three quarters of his life, he had belonged to that Germany we loved—the Germany of “Dichter und Denker” (poets and thinkers)—only to end his long existence (96 years) on the side of the “Richter und Henker” (judges and executioners). Jürgen Habermas passed away on March 14. He no longer had the time or the strength to declare his support for Operation Epic Fury/Silent Holy City [sic & resic], unleashed by the well-known duo of executioners against the land that gave rise to Ibn Sina (Avicenna), Omar Khayyam, Rumi, Al-Ghazali, Suhrawardi, Al-Razi, Al-Farabi, Mulla Sadra, and… Ali Shariati. Having become a sacred cow of self-righteous but wrong-acting Germany, Habermas, shortly after October 7, 2023, committed an infamous text of unconditional support for the Zionist killers. This ultimate perversion of his own “communicative action” earned him a stinging response from an Iranian sociologist, a professor at the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign, Asef Bayat, author of extremely creative works on social movements in the Mashreq and the Maghreb. We reproduce it below in lieu of an obituary, as it was first published in New Lines Magazine.-FG, Tlaxcala

Jürgen Habermas Contradicts His Own Ideas When It Comes to Gaza

One of the world’s most influential philosophers has weighed in on the war in Gaza. A Middle East scholar tells him why he’s wrong

Asef Bayat, December 8, 2023


Philosopher Jürgen Habermas (left) and sociologist Asef Bayat (right). (Louisa Gouliamaki/AFP via Getty Images)

Editor’s note: Jürgen Habermas and Asef Bayat are towering global thinkers. Their books have been translated into multiple languages and are taught in universities throughout the world. Habermas is part of the pantheon of the legendary Frankfurt School of critical theory, along with the late Theodor Adorno, Max Horkheimer and Herbert Marcuse. Yet he is perhaps best known for his ideas about the “public sphere” — a realm where citizens come together to debate matters of general concern and “public opinion” is formed, which he traces back to coffeehouses and literary salons in 18th-century Europe — and as a defender of liberal democracy against its critics on both the left and the right. He is no stranger to the challenge that Bayat poses in this open letter; his very public debates and intellectual battles over many decades have made him a household name in Germany.

Bayat is a sociologist of the contemporary Middle East best known for his concept of “post-Islamism” and for his textured studies of street politics, everyday life and how ordinary people change the Middle East (the subtitle of his 2013 book, “Life as Politics”). Habermas has been widely criticized for his recent statements on the Gaza war, but what distinguishes this open letter is its immanent critique: Bayat sets out to show how Habermas fails to apply his own ideas to the case of Israel-Palestine. It is a critique from within the logic of Habermasian thought. This gives it a force that will — or should — resonate with Habermas and his defenders. It is more of an invitation than a polemic. It is an attempt to engage, and we publish it here in hopes that it will do just that.-New Lines

Dear professor Habermas,

You may not remember me, but we met in Egypt in March 1998. You came to the American University in Cairo as a distinguished visiting professor to engage with the faculty, students and the public. Everyone was enthusiastic to hear you. Your ideas on the public sphere, rational dialogue and democratic life were like a breath of fresh air in a time when Islamists and autocrats in the Middle East were stifling free expression under the guise of “protecting Islam.” I recall a pleasant conversation we had on Iran and religious politics over dinner at the house of a colleague. I tried to convey to you the emergence of a “post-Islamist” society in Iran, which you later seemed to experience on your trip to Tehran in 2002, before you spoke about a “post-secular” society in Europe. We in Cairo saw in your core concepts a great potential for fostering a transnational public sphere and cross-cultural dialogues. We took to heart the kernel of your communicative philosophy about how consensus-truth can be reached through free debate.

Now, some 25 years later, in Berlin, I read your co-authored “Principles of Solidarity” statement on the Gaza war with more than a little concern and alarm. The spirit of the statement broadly admonishes those in Germany who speak out, through statements or protests, against Israel’s relentless bombardment of Gaza in response to Hamas’ appalling attacks of Oct. 7. It implies that these criticisms of Israel are intolerable because support for the state of Israel is a fundamental part of German political culture, “for which Jewish life and Israel’s right to exist are central elements worthy of special protection.” The principle of “special protection” is rooted in Germany’s exceptional history, in the “mass crimes of the Nazi era.”

It is admirable that you and your country’s political-intellectual class are adamant about sustaining the memory of that historic horror so that similar horrors will not befall the Jews (and I assume, and hope, other peoples). But your formulation of, and fixation on, German exceptionalism leaves practically no room for conversation about Israel’s policies and Palestinian rights. When you confound criticisms of “Israel’s actions” with “antisemitic reactions,” you are encouraging silence and stifling debate.

As an academic, I am stunned to learn that in German universities — even within classrooms, which should be free spaces for discussion and inquiry — almost everyone remains silent when the subject of Palestine comes up. Newspapers, radio and television are almost entirely devoid of open and meaningful debate on the subject. Indeed, scores of people, including Jews who have called for a ceasefire, have been fired from positions, had their events and awards canceled and been accused of “antisemitism.” How are people supposed to deliberate about what is right and what is wrong if they are not allowed to speak freely? What happens to your celebrated idea of the “public sphere,” “rational dialogue” and “deliberative democracy”?

The fact is that most of the critics and protests you admonish never question the principle of protecting Jewish life — and please do not confuse these rational critics of the Israeli government with the disgraceful far-right neo-Nazis or other antisemites who must be vigorously condemned and confronted. Indeed, almost every statement I have read condemns both Hamas’ atrocities against civilians in Israel and antisemitism. These critics are not disputing the protection of Jewish life or Israel’s right to exist. They are disputing the denial of Palestinian lives and Palestine’s right to exist. And this is something about which your statement is tragically silent.

There is not a single reference in the statement to Israel as an occupying power or to Gaza as an open-air prison. There is nothing about this perverse disparity. This is not to speak of the everyday erasure of Palestinian life in the occupied West Bank and east Jerusalem. “Israel’s actions,” which you deem “justified in principle,” have entailed dropping 6,000 bombs in six days on a defenseless population; well over 15,000 dead (70% of them women and children); 35,000 injured; 7,000 missing; and 1.7 million displaced — not to mention the cruelty of denying the population food, water, housing, security and any modicum of dignity. Key infrastructures of life have vanished.

14/03/2026

Normalized Trauma, Traumatized Normalcy – The Palestine Exhibition “Kalanlar Filistin” in Istanbul

On March 30, 2026, the solidarity exhibition "Kalanlar Filistin" [What remains of Palestine] closes its doors after three months in Istanbul Harbiye. Milena Rampoldi of ProMosaik visited this exhibition for us and reports on her impressions. 

Milena Rampoldi, March 14, 2026

At first glance, this exhibition organized by the Turkish cultural association Kalyon Kültür would be seen as the narrative of the Zionist destruction of Palestinian life (family, school, childhood, culture) and thus as a material presentation of the Zionist genocide. However, what really counts here, if you are in the middle of the exhibition and experience it, is not the brutal destruction that you perceive on the surface, but what is “left” and lives on after the destruction.


It is about everything that Zionism cannot hit, namely the soul, resistance and humanity. In fact, the title of this innovative exhibition, which somehow turns classical museum pedagogy and its dialectical paradigms completely upside down, could be translated as “What remains of Palestine”.

What remains and stays after the bombings and airstrikes of the Israeli military, the symbol and essence of new colonialism in the Middle East, are human dignity, the spirit of resistance and the Palestinian humanity of an oppressed people, but who are by no means the victims of this destruction. 

The visitor enters into an empathic dialogue with the war reality of Palestine, which is “recreated” in the exhibition premises. The visitor loses all distance, his empathy is the result of the abolition of any dialectic between his safe and stable existence in Istanbul-Harbiye and the genocide in Gaza. However, the visitor is not there to perceive Palestine as an object in the sense of Edward Said and to pity it as a do-gooder, but to appear as a witness for Palestine and to leave the exhibition as a witness.

Like the testimony in the Qur'an, the testimony of a historical event is not a right, but an obligation. And this commitment leads to ethical responsibility. The visitor interacts with the destruction and does not get out of his responsibility number. Since the obligation to stand up for Palestine is not a choice of a sunny day in Harbiye, but the ethical obligation of a life as an ethical thinking, witnessing and acting person. As it says so beautifully on the website of the exhibition: “This exhibition is not a visit; it is an attitude.”

What remains after the Zionist destruction is the ontological “remnant,” the remnant that opposes any ontological brutality.

“Destruction is not a moment here, but a structure that has gained continuity; trauma is the new form of everyday life.”

Trauma gets normalized in Palestine. Palestinian life in Gaza is the remnant of this traumatized normality. However, the trauma is now also an everyday aspect of the visitor, who has turned into a responsible confidant/witness for life.

“The visitors are not invited to emotional relief, but to an ethical debate. Here, not compassion, but testimony is expected. Because testimony results in responsibility.”

It is not about the catharsis of the visitor, as it is the case in a Greek tragedy, but about the inconvenient knowledge of the Zionist genocide in Gaza.

What remains are silent people and silent objects that stay immovably in their place as witnesses of destruction. This can be seen in particular in the rooms where the kitchen, the school class and the Palestinian home are shown after the Israeli bombings. The material remains, a piece of wall, an empty pot, a school desk, a blackboard..., and these objects are silent. 


The first victims are always the children. For the Zionist genocide is above all a child genocide. Therefore, the figure of Handala is also central in this exhibition.

Handala is the famous cartoon character of the Palestinian artist Naji al-Ali from 1969, which has very strong autobiographical traits. The murdered children of Gaza and the children who, like the cartoonist himself, became surviving refugees are the symbol of testimony that remains and defies brutal destruction.

“What can be seen here is not a loss, but irretrievable time.”

“The barbed wire at the centre of the installation transforms the border from a geographical line into a permanent experience imprinted in body and memory. This installation is not conceived as an aesthetic composition; it wants the visitor to immediately feel the interruption between today and yesterday and its ethical significance. The work calls for observation, not pity.”

The trauma is, as mentioned, the normality. War is continuity and the labyrinth of the exhibition is a constant reality. The visitor walks into the labyrinth. He remains there voluntarily and experiences the darkness of imprisonment acoustically as a permanent experience. The children teach the visitor what is war - acoustically and visually. The cries of the children are imprinted in the mind and soul of the witness spectator. At the same time, the guided tour of the exhibition illuminates the various movements on the grey walls of the labyrinth. Violence and brutality become part of everyday life and are no exceptions. You do not escape from this labyrinth, you stay, listen and painfully learn the resistance, which then remains as an echo once you left the exhibition. 

When the bombs are asleep, we too can sleep

Is there chocolate in paradise?

Allah is with us

“What is happening here is not a deviation, but order itself.”

The visitor can't get out of the situation. This is not an escape room, this is his testimony of Palestine, the Zionist colony of the Middle East of children like Handala.



The other room, where the names of the martyrs are read, performs the same function. Here, too, the witness does not flee, but remains. The dialectic between testimony and witness is abolished. We are in the post-dialectical space of the Palestinians' response to the Zionist State and its outdated dialectics.

01/03/2026

War Is the Opiate of the Israeli Masses, by Gideon Levy

From news panelists salivating over the possibility of a strike on Iran to the public’s jubilation at the promised ‘total victory’ over Israel’s enemies, the country seems to have a very short memory, stupefied by war after war

 Gideon Levy, Haaretz, 1/3/2026

It’s wartime again, with the war, yet again, coming to solve Israel’s existential problems once and for all.

It will again be declared a stunning victory at first, with everyone applauding, with Yair Lapid writing that we are a strong and united nation and with analysts competing over who can laud Israel’s brave feats more, all of this until the next satisfying venture.

Again, almost all Israelis are convinced that there is no war more justified or successful than this one, and "what choice did we have?" and "what do you propose?" as in all of Israel’s wars. This cheering could already be heard in TV panels on Friday evening, with salivating panelists eagerly waiting for this moment as if they were waiting for the Messiah. The release came Saturday, lasting only until the next round of pleasure, which will arrive earlier than expected.

If Israel once enjoyed a few years of quiet between wars – eight from the 1948 war to the Sinai Campaign, 11 between that one and the Six-Day War, six to the Yom Kippur War, nine to the first Lebanon war and 24 to the second one – now we have only a few months between one war and the next. Once, the promises made after each war reached the sky, the delusional sky of the war’s instigators and supporters, who include almost all Israelis. "No shell, no Katyusha rocket will fall again on our communities," promised Menachem Begin at the end of the first Lebanon war. "The blood was not in vain," promised Ehud Olmert after the second.

Last June, just eight months ago, total victory over Iran was declared. Benjamin Netanyahu said the opening salvo would go down in Israel’s military history and be studied by armies around the world. "At the decisive moment, a nation like a lion [the Hebrew name of the war is ‘Roaring Lion’] rose, and our roar rattled Tehran and resounded around the world." The lion’s roar quickly turned out to be the squeak of a mouse.

16/02/2026

To Honor the Memory of Those Massacred on October 7, Israelis Must Recognize Their Actions in Gaza


Gideon Levy, Haaretz, 15/2/2026


Smoke rises following an explosion, within the "yellow line" zone, which is controlled by Israel, in Khan Younis in the southern earlier this week. Credit: HASEEB ALWAZEE/Reuters

The recent outrage over an Israeli minister’s rejection of the word ‘massacre’ in reference to October 7 revealed that in Israel, the word is reserved for one side. Those fighting for its preservation must apply it to what happened in Gaza

In the first months following October 7, I constantly used the term massacre to describe what had happened. What I saw with my own eyes as I wandered through the southern border area with photographer Alex Levac could only be defined as one.

In Sderot, Ofakim, in the Re’im parking lot, on death-strewn Highway 232, in Be’eri and Nir Oz, we saw endless silent testimony to a massacre. The trails of congealed blood in the rooms of kibbutz members, the lives cut short in an instant, the weekend copies of Haaretz, with readers massacred as they were perusing them, the bodies of their dogs lying in their yards, the crushed and shattered cars with their silent remnants of the Nova music festival, ID cards and personal effects in the ruins of the police station in Sderot, and of course, the surviving witnesses – all told a story of a horrific massacre. A massacre – what else could you call it?

The temporary memorial for victims set at the Re’im parking lot in the initial months after the Nova party, in January 2024. Credit: Hadas Parush

A year later, I could no longer use that term. This was after the word massacre came to be used in Israel’s discourse only for describing what was done to us. The only massacre was the massacre of Israelis in the south, and no other. Hardly anyone used the word massacre to describe what was happening across the border, in Gaza, at our hands.

When an Israeli said "massacre," he meant the massacre of Israelis, as if he were stating that there was no other. The word massacre became a fraught one, a tendentious one serving propaganda and thus disqualified for use, as far as I was concerned, due to its one-sided meaning.

Meanwhile, the second massacre proceeded at full force, and no one called it by its name. It did not cancel out the first massacre, but its scope, in numbers and devastation, far exceeded it. The fact that it was perpetrated mainly by air did not diminish its nature by one whit.

Destroyed buildings in Gaza, as seen from the Israeli side of the Israel-Gaza border earlier this week. Credit: Amir Cohen/Reuters

The furious argument that has erupted in the last few days over the government’s foolish attempt to erase from people’s minds the massacre we suffered can only evoke a bitter smile.

Nothing could be more ironic: After more than two years in which the public discourse refrained from using the word "massacre" or its synonyms for describing what the IDF was doing to Gazans; after more than two years in which Israel tried to tell itself, and the world, that the only massacre that took place was that of Israelis; over two years of playing the victim, in which Israel put on display, for itself and the world, only its own war wounds; over two years in which it forbade any expression of compassion, humaneness and solidarity with the victims of the other massacre; after over two years in which the Israeli media concealed, ignored or blurred the other massacre, along comes the government trying to erase from Israeli minds the first massacre as well, as if it never happened.


Culture and Sports Minister Miki Zohar speaking at the first government-funded film award ceremony in Jerusalem last month. Credit: Naama Grynbaum

Culture Minister Miki Zohar actually objected to adopting a stance of victimhood, in which Israel had wallowed, as long as this served its purposes.

Nevertheless, there was a massacre in Israel, as well as a genocide in Gaza. One should recognize this. The power of words is great. The fact that so few Israelis are bothered by what their country has done in the Gaza Strip proves the immense power of words. The fact that every time the word "massacre" was or is still used in Israel, people mean only the killing of 1,200 Israelis, never the killing of 70,000 Gazans, proves how easy it is to brainwash people and shape their mindset.

Therefore, the current battle over this term is important. People who are justifiably fighting to keep this term intact regarding the events of October 7 should at least also adopt it for describing what Israel did in its reckless retaliation in Gaza. One cannot say "the October 7 massacre" and not say a word about the punitive and vengeful massacre that followed it.

The blood of Israelis massacred along the Gaza border cries out, but no less so than the blood of the thousand babies that were massacred in the Gaza Strip. Both groups were victims of barbaric and criminal behavior. Both groups deserve the correct definition, not mendacious propaganda. There was a massacre in Israel. In Gaza, there was a genocide.

25/01/2026

Gaza: Past, Present, Future?
Truth and the Battle for Free Speech
Norman Finkelstein's Talk at University of Massachusetts – Amherst, Sept. 24, 2025


The genocide in Gaza has sparked a global battle for freedom of expression, opinion, and organization, both in the North and South of the planet. The response of so-called democratic regimes to movements of solidarity with the Palestinian people has been appalling, marked by the most brutal repression of actions and words, from Berlin to Tangier, from London to New York. Norman Finkelstein, a Jewish scholar and son of Holocaust survivors, was ostracized long before October 7, 2023, for his denunciation of what he called the Holocaust industry. His talk at the University of Massachusetts in September 2025 was historic. It was his first appearance at a US university since October 7. His words deserve to be engraved in the marble of history. Here they are.

The Glocal Workshop, January 2026
50 pages, A5
Dewey Decimal Classification: 956.94 – 323.119 – 323.44 – 378.121 – 378.744

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    08/01/2026

    Fatal Motorcycle Accident Leaves Israel's Most Serious Security Corruption Case in Limbo



    Judge Benny Sagi was set to deliver the verdict regarding a suspect in the submarine and naval vessels affair, which concerns two deals with a German conglomerate for the acquisition of submarines and missile boats to defend the natural gas fields off Israel's coast

    Chen Maanit, Haaretz, 7/1/2026

    Amos Harel, Josh Breiner, Yael Freidson and Meirav Arlosoroff contributed to this report.

    The death of an Israeli district judge in a motorcycle accident earlier this week may delay the legal proceedings in the 2016 submarine and naval vessels affair.

    According to information obtained by Haaretz, Be'er Sheva District Court President, Judge Benny Sagi, was scheduled to announce his verdict on February 26 in a case connected to the affair.

    In the case, media consultant Tzachi Lieber is accused of mediating bribes between Michael Ganor, who was the representative of the German industrial engineering company ThyssenKrupp in Israel, and David Sharan, who served as the head of Prime Minister Netanyahu's bureau.

     

    Judge Benny Sagi. Photo Tomer Appelbaum

    Lieber has denied all charges against him.

    The submarine and naval vessels affair concerns two deals with ThyssenKrupp: one for the acquisition of two submarines, and one for the purchase of missile boats to defend Israel's natural gas fields off the coast. Netanyahu also wanted to include anti-submarine ships in the deal, but defense officials opposed this idea, which was shelved.

    The main allegation against the prime minister was that he pushed to buy additional submarines for the navy despite defense officials' objections. Netanyahu, former Mossad chief Yossi Cohen and former Defense Minister Moshe Ya'alon were not questioned under caution in "Case 3000," which investigated the affair.

    Lieber's case was separated from the main trial of Sharan and Ganor, which is being held at the Tel Aviv District Court. The prosecution had been waiting for Lieber's trial – ongoing since May 2021 – to conclude before calling him to testify in the trial of Ganor and Sharan.

    In most cases, a defendant does not testify against another defendant in the same case to rule out a conflict of interest, seeing as a defendant might try to incriminate an accomplice in exchange for leniency.


    Michael Ganor in court, in 2019. Photo Moti Milrod

    Beyond its impact on the submarine affair, Sagi's death just before the verdict raises a complex dilemma regarding how Lieber's trial should proceed and be brought to a conclusion. Section 233 of the Criminal Procedure Law addresses situations where a judge is unable to complete a criminal case.

    The section states that when "evidence has been heard and, for any reason, the judge is unable to complete the trial, another judge may continue the trial from the stage reached by his predecessor, and may, after allowing the parties to present their arguments on the matter, treat the evidence collected by his predecessor as if he had collected it himself, or may choose to rehear any or all of the evidence."

    However, there is no known precedent for a judge dying or becoming unable to continue with a case at such a late stage, just as he was preparing to deliver a verdict.

    The dilemma now facing the system is complex. On one hand, allowing a new judge to deliver a verdict based solely on the protocols and evidence submitted is problematic, as a criminal verdict should be based on the judge's direct impression of the witnesses and the defendant, and their credibility.

    On the other hand, having another judge rehear the witnesses, or some of them, is also problematic and would mean the case would drag on for years. As mentioned, this would also delay Lieber's required testimony in the main case against Sharan and Ganor.

    Apart from this trial, Sagi was presiding over several other ongoing cases, which will now be transferred to other judges.


    Supreme Court President Isaac Amit (in tie, right) and Justice Minister Yariv Levin (in tie, left) at Be'er Sheva District Court President Benny Sagi's funeral, Tuesday. Photo Tomer Appelbaum

    Overall, Sagi's death has left the Be'er Sheva District Court in a difficult position. Sagi, who was appointed as district president only two years ago, was an outstanding administrator and a respected and well-liked judge, leaving a significant void behind.

    Six judges in the court are set to retire in the coming year. The paralysis Justice Minister Yariv Levin imposed on the Judicial Appointments Committee, combined with Sagi's death, have left the Be'er Sheva District Court in dire straits.

    The justice minister and court administration will have to quickly find a replacement for Sagi, but Levin continues to boycott his counterpart, and without communication between them, this will be a complex task.

    Lieber's attorney, Liran Zilberman, said he is "deeply saddened and pained by the death of the honorable Judge Sagi. The manner in which the case against Lieber will proceed is not up to us, and we will await the court's decision on this matter before determining our next steps."

    The prosecution said, "Further proceedings regarding Lieber will be determined by the court in accordance with the law," adding that he is not expected to testify in the submarine affair trial in the near future, "and in any case, there is no obstacle to hearing his testimony."


    Netanyahu climbs out after a visit inside the Rahav, the fifth submarine in the fleet, after it arrived at the Haifa port, in 2016. Photo Baz Ratner / Reuters

    30/10/2025

    Tucumán, Argentina: The Zionist octopus extends its tentacles in all directions, from the Jewish community to State institutions

     Rubén Kotler, 30/10/2025

    Rubén Kotler (b. 1974) is an Argentine historian, Jewish anti-Zionist, and specialist in the recent history of Tucumán. He is cofounder of the Argentine Oral History Association and coadministrator of the Latin American Oral History Network. He also co-wrote and conducted the historical research for the documentary El Tucumanazo, which explores the workers’ and students’ uprisings in Tucumán. https://www.deigualaigual.net/

    Israeli historian Ilan Pappé defines a lobby as “the influence exerted to change a government’s policy or to alter public opinion.” In his recent book, Lobbying for Zionism on Both Sides of the Atlantic , he analyzes the history of the Zionist lobby between the United States and the United Kingdom. Zionist penetration in Latin America dates back to the first half of the twentieth century and has been essential to the survival of the State of Israel and its policies of genocide, ethnic cleansing, apartheid, colonialism, expansionism, racism, and Islamophobia—the backbone upon which the self-proclaimed Jewish state is built, to the detriment of the Palestinian people.
    This colonial framework is sustained by Jewish-Zionist communities worldwide. Such dynamics can be observed, under closer inspection, in local communities such as that of Tucumán, Argentina.



    Argentina’s smallest province hosts a small but influential Jewish-Zionist community, where both Ashkenazi and Sephardic heritages coexist. Its institutions range from several synagogues and schools to a club called Unidad Sionista (“Zionist Unity”) and a cemetery. The main community school—where I myself studied during my school years—maintains a dual curriculum, and its Jewish-Zionist education is a key element in maintaining and reinforcing communal support for Israel.

    The Jewish educational programs, far removed from religious orthodoxy, are designed to foster a deeply Zionist identity.Argentine national holidays are celebrated with equal emphasis to Jewish holidays, imbuing them with a nationalist narrative that rivals that taught in schools in the colonial enclave of Israel itself. Zionist influence in the religious Jewish world has been so profound that even Reform congregations  have included a prayer asking God to protect the Israeli army in their religious services.

     

    Images from a “Patriotic Israeli” School Ceremony in Tucumán
    (Author’s Archive)

    At the same time, a scholarship system funds initiation trips to the self-proclaimed Jewish state—as if to a kind of Disney World. Combined with a tightly woven network of local institutions, this reinforces a sense of Israel as a “second homeland,” and for some, as an imagined nation that serves as refuge from a potential apocalyptic repetition of a “second Holocaust.”

    The bombings of the Israeli Embassy in Buenos Aires (1992) and the AMIA (1994) strengthened the narrative of a possible “Holocaust” in Argentina. Since 1994, Jewish-Zionist institutions have maintained external walls around their buildings “to prevent car bomb explosions.” For thirty years, Argentina’s Jewish-Zionist community has awaited a “third attack” as though waiting for the Messiah.

    The oath sworn by soldiers of the world’s most criminal army at Masada, in occupied Palestine—pledging that Zion will never fall again—is replicated with equal fervor in Jewish-Zionist schools.

    In Argentina, there exists a notorious pro-Zionist lobbying institution known as the Delegación de Asociaciones Israelitas Argentinas (DAIA)—the Delegation of Argentine Jewish Associations—whose initial purpose was to protect Jewish interests in Argentina. Nothing could be further from reality: DAIA defends Zionist interests in the country. It is also one of the key promoters of the idea that anti-Zionism is equivalent to anti-Semitism, as we will see later.


    Kirchnerist José Jorge Alperovich (b. 1955) served as governor of Tucumán three times between 2003 and 2015. In November 2019, he was criminally charged with sexual abuse, and in 2024 he was sentenced to sixteen years in prison and permanently disqualified from holding public office.

    To understand Zionist penetration in Tucumán over recent years—functioning as a kind of fifth column that justifies and accompanies genocide—we must consider the political landscape. Provincial governments since 2003 have maintained firm economic, cultural, political, and social ties with Israel.

    Alperovich, the son of a Jewish-Zionist family from Tucumán belonging to the commercial elite, became a paradigmatic case in a country whose official religion is Roman Catholicism. His election was as novel as his alliances with Zionism at a global level. These ties predated his governorship but were reinforced by the inclusion of local Jewish community members in the provincial cabinet. Prominent community figures embraced Peronism as a political vehicle through which they anchored their influence and linked the provincial state to the State of Israel via a series of economic agreements.


    Juan Luis Manzur (b. 1969), later governor and today the wealthiest official in the national administration, continued this line of submission to Zionism. With close, even affectionate ties to sectors such as Chabad Lubavitch, Manzur quickly made business deals with Israel in one of the colonial enclave’s most specialized areas: security.

    By the end of 2018, the provincial government purchased 4,000 semi-automatic Jericho 9mm pistols with polymer frames, developed by Israel Military Industries (IMI)—a company privatized that same year and absorbed by Elbit Systems. The nine-million-dollar deal brought to Tucumán weapons identical to those used against Palestinians in the West Bank. One of these guns, in the hands of the provincial police, killed Luis Espinoza during the pandemic lockdown, when police raided a social gathering on May 15, 2020. Espinoza was kidnapped and disappeared for seven days before his body was found in another province.

    But the agreements didn’t stop there. Two years before Espinoza’s death, on August 13, 2018, the Jerusalem Symphony Orchestra performed in one of Tucumán’s main theaters under the sponsorship of the provincial government. I titled my commentary at the time “A Concert of Gunfire” to highlight how cultural events were being used to normalize the embrace of the Zionist state and the oppression of the Palestinian people.
    The normalization of colonial structures through culture and sports is a distinctive feature of this global pattern of Zionist influence.

    Peronism as an ally of Zionism

    Today, Argentina’s far-right president Javier Milei is openly allied with Zionism, supporting the ongoing genocide in Palestine. Yet part of the Peronist movement hypocritically remains silent or looks away when it comes to the state’s agreements with Zionist institutions. Visits to Israel by Argentine officials have continued from one administration to another.
    From Tucumán, local governments and university authorities have repeatedly signed agreements with Israel, regardless of political turnover.

    Let us recall that the first international trip of Peronist president Alberto Fernández, just before the pandemic, was to Israel—to shake hands with war criminal Benjamin Netanyahu. His minister Eduardo “Wado” de Pedro, himself the son of victims of Argentina’s last civil-military dictatorship, brought the Israeli company Mekorot to Argentina to manage a strategic resource: water. De Pedro could not have been unaware of international accusations against Mekorot for its role in Israel’s apartheid system and its control of water resources in occupied Palestine.
    Today, these agreements are being expanded as Milei’s ultra-liberal government seeks to privatize Agua y Saneamiento Argentino (AYSA), the national water and sanitation company. Will Mekorot take over AYSA? It is highly probable.

    Health and the Hadassah Network

    On October 13, 2021, during the COVID-19 pandemic, the Ministry of Health of Tucumán signed a cooperation agreement with Israel’s Hadassah Medical Network. The agreement was signed by then-Minister of Health Rossana Chahla, now the mayor of the provincial capital.

    According to the ministry’s website, “this agreement aims to share medical knowledge developed at Israel’s Hadassah Medical Center, to provide access to training sessions, symposiums, and lectures by professionals, as well as to integrate hospitals and health centers in Tucumán into the Hadassah Health Network.”
    The objective is explicit: sharing provincial health data with an Israeli institution—an unprecedented step in such a sensitive public sector. The ministry’s note also confirmed that this relationship between the provincial government and Hadassah has existed for over fifteen years, dating back to Alperovich’s administration.

    The local academy strengthens the Zionist narrative

    The Zionist narrative requires its scribes. The Hasbara—Israel’s state-sponsored propaganda apparatus—deploys a wide range of tools, from funding mass media outlets to flooding social networks with influencers who mold public perception. As war criminal Benjamin Netanyahu recently declared, “Israel should buy TikTok.”

    Within this strategy, academia plays a crucial role. Agreements between Argentine public universities and Zionist or pro-Zionist institutions are particularly notable.


    Returning to Tucumán: on July 23, 2025, the Faculty of Law at the National University of Tucumán hosted a Hasbara-style event clearly intended to reinforce Zionist narratives—the presentation of the book Antisemitismo: Definir para combatir (“Antisemitism: Define to Combat”) by Ariel Gelblung, director of the controversial Simon Wiesenthal Center, a defender of the Zionist narrative.

    The event was supported by the local DAIA and attended by university authorities, provincial government officials, and members of the judiciary—including Supreme Court justices Claudia Sbdar and Daniel Posse, journalist Álvaro José Aurane of La Gaceta, and officials Raúl Albarracín and Hugo Navas.

    Notably, Gelblung’s presentation was part of a postgraduate diploma program on Genocide and Crimes Against Humanity offered by the Faculty of Law—one that makes no mention whatsoever of the ongoing genocide against the Palestinian people.

    On July 25, a follow-up talk was given to local students, again promoting the conflation of anti-Zionism with anti-Semitism. In an interview with the local newspaper, Gelblung declared:

    “We are living through the worst moment of anti-Semitism since the end of World War II. The conflict in the Middle East has placed Jewish communities around the world in real danger. Allowing certain masks to fall and aligning with terrorism is truly dangerous.”

    For this propagandist, “Zionism is not a bad word; it is the movement for the national self-determination of the Jewish people in their ancestral land. Someone cannot claim to support self-determination for all peoples except one. That is discrimination. One cannot say, ‘I’m not anti-Semitic, I’m just anti-Zionist.’ That’s a fallacy.”

    For Gelblung—and indeed for the entire Jewish-Zionist establishment—no genocide is being committed in Gaza, despite reports to the contrary from Israeli human-rights organizations such as B’Tselem. Neither Gelblung nor Tucumán’s academic or judicial authorities seem to have read the report titled “Our Genocide”. By echoing the IHRA definition of anti-Semitism, they equate it with anti-Zionism—nothing could be more false.

    Since October 7, 2023, these circles have loudly insisted that the world is witnessing a surge in anti-Semitism—a claim unsupported by evidence. In Argentina, even members of parliament have been prosecuted for mentioning genocide in Palestine, accused of anti-Semitism, as happened to Vanina Biassi, deputy of the Frente de Izquierda y de los Trabajadores (Left and Workers’ Front).


    Rossana Chahla (1966), intendenta (alcaldesa) de Tucumán, justicialista (peronista/kirchnerista)

    Rossana Chahla (b. 1966), physician of Syrian-Lebanese origin and now mayor of San Miguel de Tucumán, has written yet another chapter in the province’s alliance with Zionism. She signed a security-training cooperation agreement with the Israeli agency Mashav for the municipal staff.

    Despite protests from the group Tucumán por Palestina, the municipality proceeded with the agreement. At the height of an ongoing genocide, the mayor deepens ties with Zionist institutions.

    According to the municipal website,

    “The course, conducted in Spanish at the Beit Berl Institute campus near Tel Aviv, covers key topics such as coordination between municipalities and police forces, the creation of community police units, emergency management, youth work with at-risk populations, and cooperation with educational institutions, community organizations, and the private sector.”

    Such agreements, mirrored throughout Latin America, exemplify what journalist Antony Loewenstein has called ‘The Palestine Laboratory’—Israel’s use of its repressive systems against the Palestinian people as showcases for its “technological advances” in security and warfare. Israel remains one of the world’s major arms exporters [8th largest exporter and 15th largest importer in the world] , selling to regimes of all kinds, including dictatorships.



    A Phantom Haunting Tucumán: The Phantom of Genocide

    The collective Tucumán por Palestinamade up of Palestinians, anti-Zionist Jews, artists, political and trade-union activists, and academics, has for years denounced Zionism and exposed Israel’s crimes against the Palestinian people. Yet not a single line about their work has appeared in Tucumán’s main newspaper. On the contrary, whenever the Jewish-Zionist community holds public events, the same paper devotes lavish coverage to them.

    In general, local media—barring rare exceptions—ignore the persistent activism that fills the capital’s streets. It is evident that Zionist influence in Tucumán extends across all three branches of government, the hegemonic press, and parts of academia.

    As a son of that same Jewish community, I once again raise my voice in opposition to Zionism and genocide. Like the comrades of Tucumán por Palestina, I speak out wherever possible.

    The penetration of that ghost called genocide in the province has names and faces—many of them descendants of Syrian-Lebanese families, such as the current mayor of the provincial capital. Breaking the dominant narrative, making as much noise as possible, and convincing Jewish communities around the world that Israel does not represent Judaism—in any of its religious or cultural forms—may help weaken the colonial enclave.

    Withdrawing communal support, as several anti-Zionist and pro-Palestinian Jewish organizations are already doing, could contribute to the fall of a regime that for over a century has waged war, committed crimes against humanity, and perpetuated genocide and ethnic cleansing in historic Palestine and other strategic parts of the Middle East.