The Palestinian struggle is not just about land or borders; it is also about the dignity and self-determination of a people who have been denied their rights for too long

— Edward Said.

he strategic deployment of victimhood as a tool for retaliation or vengeance transforms it into a potent instrument, the lethality of which attains an immeasurable impact on individuals and societies alike. When individuals or groups adopt a victimhood narrative with the explicit intent of seeking revenge, the repercussions extend far beyond the immediate conflict.

The weaponisation of victimhood not only perpetuates a cycle of hostility but also exacerbates the emotional and psychological toll on those involved. That proposition is proved to its optimum in the case of Israel, who has unleashed a reign of terror on the Palestinians ever since it came into existence. Since then, Palestinians are condemned to live just to suffer. It will not be an exaggeration to state that suffering has become a way of life for them.

At its essence, victimhood encapsulates a profound perception of injury or injustice, morphing into a dynamic and potentially explosive force when harnessed as a tool for retribution. The party experiencing a sense of being wronged strategically employs this narrative, skillfully seeking to elicit sympathy, garner support and validate their cause. A prime illustration of this strategic deployment is discernible in Israel’s consistent utilisation of victimhood and the sympathy card.

The historical transgressions against Jews by the West, predominantly characterised by Christian entities, spanning centuries, have been deftly woven into a narrative of perpetual victimhood. In this intricate tapestry, the sins of the past serve as a moral justification for contemporary actions, notably the forceful oppression of the Palestinian people.

It is crucial to note that the genesis of Israel finds its roots in an ideology intricately woven with the threads of retribution and vengeance. Zionism, the driving force behind the establishment of Israel, can be characterised as an embodiment of political Judaism, albeit one that leans towards the retributive and inherently violent spectrum.

The implementation of the nation state system notably heightened the exclusionary and violent tendencies within Israel, finding staunch support from the United States — a nation whose Jewish population closely trails that of Israel itself, comprising nearly 40 percent of the global Jewish population. The Jewish population living in Israel is 44 percent of the global population of Jews.

Consequently, the manifestation of the phenomenon of victimhood was unleashed upon the Palestinians. Here it will not be out of place to assert that the nation state system has so far failed to lend sustenance to multicultural values that had been an abiding feature of the region where religious and ethnic pluralism had been steeped in history and culture. Edward Said was spot on in his assertion that “Israel’s occupation of Palestine is one of the most brutal and inhuman forms of colonialism in modern history.”

This ongoing saga reflects a nuanced and strategic use of victimhood, wherein the perceived historical injustices are invoked to rationalise present-day actions. The narrative becomes a powerful tool, not merely for securing empathy but also for shaping international perspectives and influencing geopolitical dynamics. The intricate intertwining of historical grievances and current conflicts underscores the complexity of this narrative, as Israel plays upon the sympathy elicited by its historical victimhood to justify, or at least deflect criticism from, its actions in the present geopolitical landscape.

As Mahmoud Darwish observes, “Palestine is also a metaphor — for the loss of Eden, for the sorrows of dispossession and exile, for the declining power of the Arab world in its dealings with the West.”

Thus, the deployment of victimhood in this context is not just a reactive sentiment but a calculated strategy with far-reaching implications, reflecting the intricate interplay of history, power dynamics and narrative construction on the global stage.

However, this approach often veers away from constructive resolution, fostering a climate where grievances become entrenched and the pursuit of justice transforms into a pursuit of revenge. The immeasurable impact lies not only in the immediate aftermath of such retaliatory actions but also in the lasting scars left on the collective consciousness, hindering the potential for reconciliation and perpetuating a culture of retribution that can endure for generations.

The historic plight of Jews in Russia and Eastern Europe stands as an indubitable epitome of profound oppression. Those who bore witness to these harrowing experiences sought refuge in Israel, where an unsettling pattern emerged as they seemingly replayed on the indigenous population what had transpired against them. The bitter resonance of their collective memories, etched with the scars of persecution, acquired an even more acrid quality due to the heinous tyranny inflicted upon them by the Nazis in Germany.

The migration of individuals with a shared history of suffering to Israel created an intricate tapestry of historical recurrences. The echoes of past injustices reverberated as, instead of transcending the cycle of victimhood, there appeared to be a disconcerting replication of oppressive actions.

The transference of embittered impulses, stemming from personal and communal traumas, took on a haunting resemblance to the very atrocities that had driven them to seek refuge. This cyclical nature of historical wounds was further intensified by the traumatic experiences under Nazi rule, amplifying the fervor of the embittered impulse.

The scars inflicted by one oppressor seemed, disconcertingly, to manifest in the actions of those who had once been the oppressed. While contemplating these historical intricacies, it becomes evident that the narratives of victimhood, laden with shared traumas, can have complex and sometimes disconcerting consequences when transplanted onto new geographical and social landscapes.

In essence, the weaponisation of victimhood transforms it from a plea for empathy into a dangerous tool that can inflict profound and enduring wounds on both the accused and the accuser.

An additional proposition may unravel a fascinating dimension of the religious antagonism witnessed in Gaza and the West Bank. This dimension is intricately tied to the responses of the Jews who have resided in Palestine for centuries, embracing a socio-cultural ethos indigenous to the region.

It would not be unexpected if the indigenous Jewish population were not aligned with the execution of state terrorism orchestrated by the Netanyahu government. If indeed such a schism exists within the Jewish community, it merits emphasis and exploration.

I would like to conclude this piece by quoting Mahmoud Darwish, a poet of Palestinian resistance, “A person can only be born in one place. However, he may die several times elsewhere: in the exiles and prisons, and in a homeland transformed by occupation and oppression into a nightmare.” Indeed, in the Arab imagination, Palestine is not simply a plot of land, as Mahmoud Darwish observes, “Palestine is also a metaphor — for the loss of Eden, for the sorrows of dispossession and exile, for the declining power of the Arab world in its dealings with the West.”

The writer is a professor in the Faculty of Liberal Arts at the Beaconhouse National University, Lahore