This year began with a glimmer of hope. Israel finally agreed to a temporary ceasefire — ostensible relief from its 16-month accelerated genocide in Gaza. Yet the “ceasefire” has proven to be as empty of a promise as the decades-long “peace process.” Just as the genocide did not begin on Oct. 7, it did not end on Jan. 19. Israel’s deadly glare has only shifted from Rafah and Beit Lahia to Jenin and Tulkarm.
When, in February, President Trump vowed a U.S. takeover of Gaza and the relocation of Palestinians to “countries of interest,” he laid bare the true intentions of Israel’s supposed “war” on Gaza. Its ultimate goal is the total ethnic cleansing of all Palestinians from their homeland. Trump and Netanyahu construe Palestine as an “empty land” to which Palestinians have no legal claim, and on which they can build the next beachfront resort. The continued existence and endurance of the Palestinian people every single day unmasks their settler colonial projects for what they are: illegitimate and crumbling.
Imperial violence always has a boomerang effect, enlisting the same tactics to target oppressed groups domestically. From ICE raids to the forced withdrawal of medical care, immigrants and trans Americans have been first in Trump’s line of fire. The privilege we hold as Harvard students will not save us from these attacks. Many of us here are immigrants, trans, and Palestinian. The past two years have made it evident that neither this institution nor our elected officials will protect us. When the systems meant to protect us fail, only we can save ourselves.
Palestine lies at the intersection of liberation movements everywhere. From Africa’s Sahel region to Kashmir, the oppressed peoples of the world stand with Palestine, and in turn, stand with each other. We have witnessed an explosion of international resistance alongside the people of Gaza, and the revitalization of a popular student movement in the tradition of anti-Vietnam War and anti-South African Apartheid protests.
In the summer of 2014, when the people of Ferguson stood up against the police occupation of their city, they were attacked with tear gas and rubber bullets. Palestinian activists in the West Bank drew from experiences with similar Israeli weapons to teach Ferguson residents how to keep themselves safe. It is this solidarity that will carry us all through today’s apocalyptic violence; only collective action will save us. In the face of compounding repression, we stand at each other’s side and teach one another how to fight back.