Like many people in the world, I am emotionally exhausted. I spend most of my waking hours scrolling through the news, reading about one tragedy after another, and yearning for a lasting end to the incessant war in Gaza. I am also physically exhausted. I spend my weekends marching, driven by the desperate hope that perhaps, if enough of us take to the streets and speak out, our collective voice could urge our leaders to finally call for a cease. permanent fire.
But beyond this physical and emotional exhaustion, I am also consumed by a deep anger, a deep disappointment, towards the feminists in my country, in the United Kingdom and elsewhere, who seem completely disinterested in the suffering of women at home. Gaza.
Every day I come across opinion pieces and social media posts from feminists rightly condemning Hamas’ blatant actions towards Israeli women during their October 7 attack and their treatment of women hostages following this. These arguments and statements are undoubtedly valid and undoubtedly necessary. Such serious crimes against women and girls, against anyone, should never be ignored, excused or forgotten.
And yet, these same individuals, these self-proclaimed feminists, remain eerily silent about Israel’s equally egregious actions against Palestinian women.
Israel’s near-total siege and indiscriminate bombing of Gaza has already killed, mutilated and disappeared under the rubble of tens of thousands of Palestinian women and children. Many others were displaced and forced to survive the harsh winter without shelter or proper supplies. The near complete collapse of the health system, coupled with a lack of food and clean water, means that around 45,000 pregnant women and 68,000 breastfeeding mothers in Gaza face the risk of anemia, hemorrhage and dead. Meanwhile, hundreds of Palestinian women and children in the occupied West Bank remain imprisoned, many without trial, and try to survive in abominable conditions.
This catastrophe is playing out in broad daylight, but the majority of feminists in Britain, and more generally in the West, seem to have nothing to say about it.
Why are the stories of Palestinian women ignored? Why do the struggles of Palestinian women and children not deserve the same level of concern? Increasingly, I am led to believe that this is not simply a lack of attention, but willful blindness – the consequence of a moral compass that may be broken beyond repair.
Over the past three months, I have thought deeply about these questions. I have delved into many “feminist” texts by authors I once held in high esteem, to try to understand their interpretation of feminism and why it does not seem to include Palestinian women.
Gradually, I realized that their brand of feminism perceives Palestinian women as oppressed primarily not by Israel or any other external force, but by Palestinian men. For them, Palestinian women have little or no agency and are perpetual victims of a society where gender-based violence is deeply rooted. Moreover, in their eyes, Palestinian men are synonymous with deeply patriarchal, religious and socially conservative groups like Hamas, known for mistreating and oppressing women. Thus, these “feminists” buy into Israel’s claims that its attack on Gaza will help “liberate” Palestinian women from the clutches of Hamas, and ignore the real and serious harm the war has inflicted on them.
This approach fits into a disconcerting historical pattern – a form of feminism steeped in colonial and imperial prejudices and preconceptions. “Feminists” of this ilk supported the US invasion of Afghanistan because it was supposedly intended to “liberate Afghan women,” but they would never have dreamed of advocating for forced “liberation.” , for example, Jewish women living in deeply patriarchal and religious communities. in Israel.
In this form of feminism, empathy and outrage align not with universal feminist principles and the desire to give all women agency and power, but with personal identities and political affiliations. The result is a hierarchy of concerns, in which certain feminist struggles – and particularly those against Muslim men of color – take priority over others, allowing women’s liberation rhetoric to be co-opted to promote the goals of women. powerful, often at the expense of the oppressed.
In this context, the silence of Western feminists on the need for a ceasefire in Gaza represents not only a moral fault, but also a political one. This perpetuates a form of feminism closely tied to colonial and imperial power structures, which have historically inflicted harm under the guise of protection.
This silence is emblematic of a modern “colonial feminism”, where the rhetoric of “women’s liberation” hides deeper acts of violence. It justifies invasions and occupations under the guise of aid, portraying Palestinian women as mere victims in need of rescue, while simultaneously denying their right to resistance. Ultimately, the selective empathy of Western feminists serves to reinforce the power structures that perpetuate the cycle of violence.
Meanwhile, some feminists excuse their refusal to call for a ceasefire by pointing out Palestinian society’s complex position on LGBT rights. Hamas imprisons or does worse to LGBT people, they say, and so the war should continue until the group is completely eliminated.
However, this logic neglects a crucial element often mentioned in feminist discourse: intersectionality. While the challenges facing the LGBT community in Gaza under Hamas rule are indeed significant, using them as an excuse to refrain from advocating for an immediate ceasefire helps avert the humanitarian crisis wider that is coming. Such a selective approach not only ignores the pressing needs of thousands of women and children who experience violence and oppression daily, but also belies a worrying trend toward selective empathy. Furthermore, it ignores the fact that Israel’s war is also killing and maiming LGBT Palestinians.
Refusing to support a ceasefire because of Palestinian society and Hamas’ perceived animosity towards the LGBT community undermines the core principle of feminist solidarity – the commitment to protecting and uplifting all women and communities marginalized, whatever their socio-political situation. By refusing to support a ceasefire for these reasons, these feminists are inadvertently placing ideological purity above the urgent need to end further loss of life and suffering. True feminist activism must transcend geopolitical bias, defending the rights and dignity of all women and vulnerable groups, regardless of their origin or the complexity of their societal context.
Beyond those who cite the oppression of women by Hamas and Palestinian society as a whole, as well as apparent prejudice against the LGBT community, as reasons for not supporting calls for an immediate ceasefire, there are also feminists who remain silent on the issue because they want to remain “neutral” on a “complex” issue. Perhaps this position perplexes and exasperates me more than any other.
In the face of such overwhelming terror, there can be no neutrality.
Today, Palestinian women experience horrors that fundamentally call into question the fundamental values of feminism. Mothers bury their children with their bare hands; families mourn their lost homes and shattered lives, hungry and under a hail of bombs.
In these circumstances, silence is not a neutral position. Today’s silence is a passive endorsement of the ongoing tragedy. How many more lives must be destroyed before these cautious, politically “neutral” feminists find the courage to call for a ceasefire? The rising death toll is not just a tally; it represents individual lives, stolen futures, and a direct challenge to the principles that underpin feminism itself.
Today, what is not said has as much importance and impact as what has been said.
Many leading “feminist” voices, who always clearly express their opinions on gender, sex and society, remain conspicuously silent on the struggles of Palestinian women. While their programs have the power to highlight crucial issues, they also have the subtle power to relegate others to the sidelines. Too often we see the concerns of non-Western women relegated to the periphery due to the reluctance of these high-profile activists to write and speak about them.
This selective silence calls into question the universality of feminist solidarity. Especially when it comes to prominent feminists that many others admire, silence becomes a form of complicity. Do you think your silence on the tragedy of Palestinian women has gone unnoticed? I hate to break it to you, but your silence is deafening and has robbed your work of all credibility in the eyes of many.
If you are one of those “feminists” who do not speak out about the suffering of Palestinian women or support calls for an immediate ceasefire in Gaza, for whatever reason, I have a very simple demand of your go. Look at the photos from Gaza. You may have avoided them, dismissing them as mere propaganda – but for a second, leave your prejudices and clever excuses behind and watch them. Watch the images of mothers cradling the lifeless, bloodied bodies of their children. Look at the images of confused toddlers, often missing limbs and flesh, lying alone on the hospital floor. Watch the images of young women, dead-eyed, trying to piece together fragments of their lives and their murdered families in the rubble of their destroyed homes. Look at these images, really look at them, and then tell me why you think “it’s not right to demand a ceasefire now.” And after seeing these images, having really seen them, you still want to remain “neutral”, remain silent, or talk about “Islamist oppression” and “LGBT intolerance”, do not call yourself a feminist. Because you are not one.
The opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial position of Tel Aviv Tribune.
