By Fareed Khan
A version of this article is available on Substack.
As we
enter the fourth year of genocide in Gaza, it becomes impossible to understand
the present without confronting the deeper ideological and historical forces
that made such a crime possible. The genocide did not emerge from a vacuum. It
is the culmination of a century‑long
political project rooted in Zionist ethnonational supremacy, colonial conquest,
anti-Palestinian hate, and the dehumanization of an indigenous population. To
grasp the full magnitude of what has unfolded, we must look at the ideological
foundations of the Israeli state, the historical arc of Palestinian
dispossession, and the global structures that have enabled Israel’s violence
for generations.
Zionism’s racialized foundations
Zionism emerged
in late‑19th‑century Europe, shaped by the same intellectual
climate that produced colonialism, racial hierarchy, and ethnonationalist
ideologies. It was born in an era when European powers carved up continents,
justified conquest through pseudo‑scientific
theories of racial superiority, and viewed indigenous populations as
impediments to their imperial ambitions. Theodor
Herzl, often described as the father of modern Zionism, envisioned a Jewish
state in Palestine as a European outpost—modern, rational, and superior to the
“barbaric” indigenous population. His writings framed Palestinians not as a
people with agency, political rights, history, or sovereignty, but as obstacles
to be managed, displaced, or subordinated.
This
worldview contained structural similarities to other European ethnonationalist
movements of the era. It embraced ethnic cleansing, territorial exclusivity,
and a racial hierarchical vision of society in which Jewish supremacy was seen
as natural and necessary. These ideas later crystallized into policies within
the Zionist movement that prioritized Jewish demographic dominance over
Palestinians and a goal to control the territory of historic Palestine.
Zionism’s
anti-Palestinian, racialized logic was not merely theoretical. It shaped the
strategies of early Zionist militias, informed the political decisions of
Israel’s founding leaders, and laid the groundwork for a state built on
exclusion, displacement, and mass murder. The seeds of apartheid, segregation,
and ethnic cleansing were planted long before 1948 since they were embedded in
the ideological DNA of the movement itself.
The Nakba and the architecture of Zionist supremacy
The Nakba
of 1948—the ethnic
cleansing of over 750,000 Palestinians, the massacre of thousands, and the complete
erasure of more than 500 Palestinian
villages—was not an aberration. It was the foundational moment in the
creation of the Israeli supremacist regime. The ethnic cleansing of Palestine
was deliberate, systematic, and essential to establishing a state with a Jewish
demographic majority. It was carried out through massacres, forced expulsions, destruction
of towns and villages, and psychological terror designed to empty the land of
its indigenous inhabitants.
After the
expulsions, Israel enacted laws to ensure that Palestinians could never return.
The Absentee
Property Law confiscated the homes, farms, orchards, and businesses of
those who had fled or been expelled, transferring their land to Jews arriving
from Europe, and entrenching a system of dispossession. The Nakba was not
simply a historical event. It was the beginning of a political and social order
built on Jewish ethnosupremacy, Jewish exceptionalism, Palestinian exclusion,
and the start of a campaign to permanently erase Palestinian presence, culture
and history in the land where they and their ancestors had lived for millennia..
Following
the 1967 war, Israel extended this architecture of domination into the West
Bank, East Jerusalem, and Gaza. The occupation entrenched a dual legal system,
one where illegal Israeli settlers lived under Israeli civil law, enjoyed full
political rights, and received state protection, while Palestinians lived under
military law, faced movement restrictions, home demolitions, land seizures,
arbitrary detention, and torture. Human rights organizations—including Israeli
rights group B’Tselem,
Human
Rights Watch, and Amnesty
International—have concluded that this constitutes a regime of apartheid, “a
regime of Jewish supremacy from the Jordan River to the Mediterranean Sea.”
This
system is not incidental. It is the architecture of an ethnosupremacist state,
designed to maintain demographic dominance, territorial control, and political
power at the expense of an indigenous population whose rights are
systematically denied at every turn.
Dehumanization as policy and culture
Supremacy
is sustained not only through laws but through language. Israeli political
leaders have repeatedly used rhetoric that erases Palestinian identity and strips Palestinians of humanity.
Palestinians are often referred to not as Palestinians but as “Arabs,” a
linguistic move that denies how they identify themselves and frames them as a
generic, undifferentiated mass. Senior officials have used dehumanizing language
that casts Palestinians as inherently threatening—for example, statements
describing Palestinian children as “little
snakes” that needed to be exterminated. This supremacist thinking is not
restricted to the political class but has become common within Israeli society.
A year ago Israeli model Sarai Givati justified
the killing of Palestinian children “because they will grow up to be
terrorists. While Israeli
TV producer Elad Barashi posted on social media in May 2025, "I can't
understand the people here in the State of Israel who don't want to fill Gaza
with gas showers . . . or train cars . . . and finish this story! Let there be
a Holocaust in Gaza."
This
rhetoric is not accidental. It is part of the indoctrination
process that Jewish youth in Israel and the diaspora are put through during
their school years where they are programmed to see Palestinians as subhuman. This prepares them defend Israeli atrocities
against Palestinians, and prepares Zionist Jews to accept policies of
collective punishment, siege, and brutal large‑scale military assaults against a defenceless population, normalizing
violence and making atrocity acceptable and justifiable. When a population is
consistently portrayed as subhuman, dangerous, or undeserving of rights, the
moral guardrails to mass killing are eroded. Dehumanization becomes a cultural
norm that shapes public opinion, political discourse, and military strategy. The
result is a society in which cruelty is tolerated and justified, and in which
the suffering of Palestinians is viewed as either irrelevant and normal. This
cultural environment is essential to sustaining a system of domination, because
without it the machinery of occupation and genocide would not function.
The Gaza Genocide as a continuation of history
The
ongoing genocide in Gaza—which has killed
more than 80,000 Palestinians, destroyed hospitals, universities, mosques,
churches, cemeteries, and civilian infrastructure, and weaponized
starvation—is the latest chapter in a long history of Israeli depravity. It
reflects the same logic that drove the Nakba, the occupation, the illegal settlement
enterprise, and decades of military assaults on Gaza, the West Bank, Lebanon,
and beyond.
Israel’s
actions in Gaza are not a deviation from their decades-long racist policy, they
are the fulfillment of it. The siege imposed on Gaza since 2007, the repeated
bombardments, the deliberate targeting of civilian infrastructure, and the use
of starvation as a weapon all stem from the same ideological foundation—Palestinians
are a population to be controlled, contained, and eliminated when necessary to
fulfill the Zionist agenda. The genocide
is the culmination of decades of policies designed to make Palestinian life
unbearable, to fragment Palestinian society, erase their culture and history, and
to ensure that Palestinians remain stateless, powerless, and vulnerable. It is
the logical endpoint of a system built on Zionist supremacy and sustained
through violence.
Western complicity and the collapse of international law
Western
powers have enabled this system for generations. The United States has provided
more
than $150 billion in military aid to Israel since 1948, supplying the
weapons, intelligence, and diplomatic cover that make Israel’s crimes possible.
The United Kingdom, France, Germany, and Canada have supplied arms, defended
Israel at the UN, and undermined
efforts to hold Israeli officials accountable for war crimes and crimes
against humanity.
This
complicity has destroyed the credibility of the post‑war international legal order. The Genocide
Convention, the Geneva Conventions, and the Universal Declaration of Human
Rights were designed to prevent atrocities like those unfolding in Gaza. Yet
Western governments have ignored ICJ rulings, opposed ICC investigations, and
only enforced international law selectively—condemning adversaries while
excusing allies. The message couldn’t be more clear—international law applies
only when it is politically convenient, Human rights are conditional and
racialized, justice is selective, and geopolitical interests override moral and
legal obligations.
Media complicity and the Palestinian exception
Western
media has reinforced this system through biased coverage that marginalizes
Palestinian suffering and amplifies Israeli narratives. Studies show that
Palestinian deaths are reported as statistics, stripped of humanity, while
Israeli deaths are described with emotive language that evokes sympathy and
outrage. Palestinian voices are marginalized, Israeli claims are amplified
without verification, and historical context is erased.
In
addition, Palestinian resistance is almost reflexively framed as terrorism,
while Israeli state violence—no matter how indiscriminate—is framed as “self‑defence.” This asymmetry mirrors propaganda tactics
used by the Nazis to dehumanize Jews and other targeted populations. It
desensitizes audiences to Palestinian suffering and normalizes their slaughter.
The
result is a media landscape that manufactures consent for genocide, shaping
public opinion in ways that protect Israel from accountability and obscure the
reality of Palestinian oppression.
The global struggle for justice
Despite
Western complicity, global momentum for Palestinian justice and freedom is
growing. More than 149 countries recognize Palestinian statehood. Millions have
marched in the streets around the world demanding an end to the genocide in
Gaza. Scholars, activists, and human rights organizations have demanded
accountability. The International Court of Justice has issued provisional
measures ordering Israel to prevent genocide, and the International Criminal
Court has sought arrest warrants for Israeli prime minister Benjamin Netanyahu
and his former defence minister Yoav Gallant.
This
global movement reflects
a deeper truth which shows that justice for Palestinians is inseparable
from the struggle to rebuild the international legal order. It requires
dismantling the structures of supremacy, ending Western military and diplomatic
support for Israel, and confronting the anti-Palestinian racialized biases that
shape Western foreign policy.
The post‑war
human rights system was created because those who witnessed the horrors of
World War II understood that nothing less than an entirely new moral
architecture was needed to prevent humanity from descending again into
barbarism. It was built by people who had seen genocide with their own eyes,
who understood the cost of indifference, and who believed that universal human
rights must be protected through binding international law. But those
architects of the post‑war order—along with the generation that carried their
memory forward—are now gone. With their passing, the moral clarity that
animated the system has faded, and the institutions they built have been left
in the hands of leaders who neither share their historical experience nor
uphold their ethical commitments.
In the absence of those witnesses, the system they created is now collapsing, if it has not already collapsed. The principles forged in the aftermath of Auschwitz and Nuremberg have been hollowed out by decades of selective enforcement, geopolitical self‑interest, and the willingness of powerful states to ignore international law when it constrains their geopolitical ambitions. Gaza has made this collapse undeniable. The very nations that once championed “Never Again” have tolerated, enabled, and rationalized a genocide in real time. The moral architecture built to prevent atrocity has been abandoned, not because it failed, but because those entrusted with preserving it chose convenience over conscience.
Rebuilding
it requires ending Western support for states like Israel that commit genocide,
reconstructing international institutions capable of enforcing human rights,
holding media corporations accountable for promoting dehumanizing narratives,
supporting global movements for justice, recognizing Palestinian humanity and
rights, and dismantling structures of ethnosupremacy wherever they exist.
The crossroads
As the
fourth year of the Gaza genocide begins humanity stands at a crossroads. One
path leads back to the barbarism of the mid-20th century, where human life is
expendable and genocide is accepted. The other leads back toward justice, where
human rights are universal and protected. The genocide in Gaza has become the
moral crisis of our time. It has exposed the collapse of Western moral
authority, the failure of international law, and the absolute fragility of
human rights. It has shown that the preservation of human dignity requires not
neutrality but courage—the courage to confront injustice, to speak truth to
power, and to demand accountability from those that consider themselves as
above the law.
As American
cultural anthropologist Margaret Mead reminded us, “Never doubt that a small
group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the
only thing that ever has.” Her words tell us that the future will not be shaped
by presidents or prime ministers but by ordinary people who refuse to be
neutral, who refuse to accept a world where genocide is normalized and human
dignity is negotiable.
The choice
is ours on which path we take, and history will remember whether we forced out
leaders to meet this moment with courage or allowed them to watch a world slide,
once again, into darkness.
© 2026
The View From Here. © 2026 Fareed Khan. All Rights Reserved.

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