Dr.Zohreh Kharazmi – Assistant Professor at the University of Tehran, Faculty of World Studies
“My concern is not with the statistics or the entirety of the report, which I’m sure you’re all more familiar with than I am. The issue at hand is the genocide itself, as was rightly pointed out. The question that has been circulating in my mind for the past few days is how the world is confronting a genocide—one that, for the first time in history, is unfolding right before our eyes. This is a reality that stands apart from the narratives we read in books or see in movies.
As such, I have tried to focus on speaking to the students here, particularly those who may go on to write their theses. Perhaps I can offer a few insights that might be helpful in this regard.
The discourse surrounding genocide rarely addresses the events that take place in the battlegrounds; it doesn’t concern what happens in the field. What truly matters is what lies behind it—something that researchers focus on. As observers, we’ve followed a path that allows us to witness these horrific scenes while still managing to endure them.
I want to briefly touch on post-genocidal discourse. First, it’s crucial to understand that the central figure in a genocide is the victimizer—the one carrying out the killings. But how is this possible? Aren’t these people human? Don’t they dream? Don’t they fear the act of killing? One of the key points of focus here is the socialization process of these individuals, much like the children’s books they read as they grow up.
I’ve brought a few examples of such storybooks in Hebrew, and I’ve translated them into English for you.
For instance, one narrative reads: ‘Joseph went… with great effort, he climbed the mountains on foot… he endured many hardships to find this land, and look at it.’ The story continues:
‘Joseph and some of his men thus crossed the land [Palestine] on foot until they reached Galilee. They climbed mountains, beautiful but empty mountains, where nobody lived… Joseph said, “We want to establish this kibbutz and conquer this emptiness… The land is empty, its children have deserted… No one protects or tends the land now”’ (Gurvitz and Navon, eds. What Story Will I Tell My Children, 128, 132 & 134).
The idea of an empty land is emphasized here—a narrative found across many contexts, whether related to America, Australia, or any place with an indigenous population. These narratives claim that the land was empty, and its discovery is framed as a triumph.
Another storybook describes:
‘He saw a big stone. He went to look closer, and found some markings on it. He said to himself that this stone was a relic of an ancient Jewish village. We shall plant our roots here… Let’s collect some of these stones and build our new village’ (Eliezer Semoli, The People of the Beginning, 12).
They find a stone, and upon closer inspection, it’s marked with signs of a Jewish village. The stone, they believe, confirms their right to the land.
Later in the story, dark figures appear, representing the Arabs:
“The Arabs who had occupied our land 1300 years ago… did anything to protect it from ruin” (A. Dani, The Independence of Israel, 13-14).
Then, suddenly, the characters hear a voice saying “Allahumma,” and two figures in black robes appear, described as ‘Bedouins.’
These are the ‘primitive’ people, the very same Arabs whom they believe had stolen the land and abandoned it, leaving it to decay. The message here is clear: these people must be removed, as their presence disrupts the natural order of the land.
This dehumanizing socialization process is designed to prepare individuals to confront an enemy they are taught to view as subhuman, deserving of violence.
The second key point in the discourse of dehumanization is to reduce the enemy to an animal-like status. This allows for more effective suppression. Former Prime Minister Ehud Barak described Israel as the ‘vanguard of culture against barbarism,’ a ‘villa in the jungle.’ Ariel Sharon’s son, Gilad Sharon, referred to the goal of Operation Pillar of Defense as a ‘Tarzan-like cry that lets the entire jungle know in no uncertain terms who won, and who was defeated.’
Even in everyday rhetoric, Palestinians have been described as ‘horrible, inhuman animals.’ Neve Gordon, during the recent Israel-Hamas war, stated that Palestinians are perceived as ‘human animals’ incapable of understanding the rules of war. David Hacohen went as far as saying, ‘But they are not human beings, they are not people, they are Arabs.’
Other derogatory terms include ‘two-footed beasts,’ ‘vampires,’ ‘pigs,’ ‘monkeys,’ and ‘terrorists,’ among others. This dehumanizing language serves to justify violence against the ‘other,’ for animals do not deserve protection. The narrative sets the stage for the belief that self-defense is a natural response to the perceived threat of a savage, subhuman enemy.
Interestingly, these narratives often become so deeply ingrained that they transform into an unquestioned truth. Over time, Western leaders and politicians justify violence with phrases like ‘They have the right to self-defense,’ but against whom, and why?
Further, a key technique in dehumanization is to strip the victim of their personhood. Once their identity is removed, the next step is to rob them of their dignity and even blame them for the consequences they face. This is what we see when people ask, ‘Why did the Palestinians do this? Why does Hezbollah resist? Why did the Palestinians attack them?’ It’s as though they assume the land was a peaceful place until these actions ‘just started.’ October 7th was not the beginning of history; it was not a sudden event.
One key moment here was when the President of the United States spoke of children being beheaded—a claim later found to be false. The White House later acknowledged that this was just ‘Israeli news.’ Yet, when it comes to Palestinian casualties, the White House questioned the validity of the Gaza Ministry of Health’s reports, claiming they might be exaggerated or fabricated. How is it that, on the one hand, Palestinians are regarded as subhuman, and on the other, their reports are doubted, as if their lives and deaths are inconsequential?
Despite all the horrors happening, I find that the ‘West vs. West’ dynamic may be a good thing. A documentary by Al Jazeera explored how journalists resigned due to their exhaustion from constructing stereotypes and dealing with double standards in the media they worked for.
Ultimately, we are engaged in a serious discursive confrontation, one that is constructed by the victimizer in real time. The UN and other organizations like it play a role in perpetuating this process of dehumanization. Although some within the UN have good intentions, as an institution, it contributes to the systematic discrimination and marginalization of the victims.
UNESCO provides an example of this paradox. It claims to uphold culture, but how is it that Israel’s promotion of whiteness in the region is endorsed by such an institution? Israel represents a continuation of Anglo-Saxon whiteness, which, according to this logic, must be protected at any cost. For instance, UNESCO added Tel Aviv as a ‘White City’ in its World Heritage list in 2003, thereby glorifying the city as a model of civilization and culture.
Finally, I would like to end with a quote from Gayatri Spivak, a professor at Princeton University:
Can the Subaltern Speak?
How can the subaltern speak when imperial power is so institutionalized in academia, in the UN, in the media, and in schools, in a fabricated and modern world that cannot truly be overcome? I love this statement:
‘In books, in the criteria for academic performance, in cultural patterns, in common sense, in the self-image of peoples, in aspirations of self, and in so many other aspects of our modern experience. In a way, as modern subjects, we breathe coloniality all the time and every day’ (Nelson Maldonado-Torres, 2012).
So, I hope that this stand of ‘West against West,’ asking the rational question of how this white civilization is burdened with the task of civilizing others, analyzing others, and destroying others, will lead us to a point where, at least in academia, we can find an answer for it. Thank you”