Israeli state-backed celebration of settler violence obscures systemic dehumanisation of Palestinians in Gaza

From an indigenous perspective, Zarbiv’s actions reflect a settler-colonial mindset that treats land as property to be claimed and controlled, rather than a living ecosystem with inherent rights. Indigenous traditions worldwide, from the Māori *whenua* to the Lakota *Mni Wičoni*, centre reciprocity and stewardship, starkly contrasting with the extractive violence of bulldozing homes and livelihoods. The honouring of such acts reveals a cultural disconnect where indigenous knowledge is not just ignored but actively suppressed in favour of militarised domination.

This event is part of a 150-year continuum of Zionist settler-colonialism, from the 1880s waves of European Jewish immigration to the 1948 Nakba and today’s Gaza blockade. Historical parallels include the US frontier myth, where 'manifest destiny' justified the violent displacement of Native Americans, or Australia’s 'terra nullius' doctrine. The 'Torchbearer' ceremony itself echoes Nazi-era torchlight parades, where state propaganda glorified militarism under the guise of national renewal.

Cross-culturally, the dehumanisation of Palestinians mirrors global patterns where colonised peoples are framed as 'barbaric' or 'inferior' to justify domination, as seen in British colonial portrayals of India or French depictions of Algeria. In India, Hindu nationalist narratives similarly invoke sacred texts to justify land seizures, while in Myanmar, Buddhist monks have incited violence against Rohingya Muslims. These patterns reveal how religious nationalism often intersects with state power to legitimise oppression.

Psychological studies on dehumanisation (e.g., Haslam’s infrahumanisation theory) show that groups subjected to systematic violence are often stripped of human traits, making atrocities easier to justify. Sociological research on apartheid (e.g., Desmond Tutu’s work) demonstrates how legalised segregation normalises state violence. The 'Torchbearer' ceremony itself is a performative act of propaganda, leveraging cognitive biases to associate militarism with virtue, a tactic well-documented in studies of political spectacle.

Artistically, Zarbiv’s actions evoke the surrealist grotesque, where violence is aestheticised as heroism, as seen in Picasso’s *Guernica* or Goya’s *Disasters of War*. Spiritually, the invocation of biblical Zionism—where 'Greater Israel' is framed as divine mandate—mirrors Christian Zionist eschatology, which sees Palestinian dispossession as a precursor to the apocalypse. Such narratives invert justice, portraying oppression as sacred duty, a perversion of ethical monotheism.

If unchecked, this trajectory risks escalating into full-scale ethnic cleansing, as historical precedents (e.g., Bosnia, Rwanda) show how dehumanisation propaganda precedes mass violence. Alternative futures include a South Africa-style Truth and Reconciliation process, or a one-state democratic solution where Palestinians and Israelis share equal rights. The current path entrenches apartheid indefinitely, with Gaza as a permanent open-air prison, while global inaction normalises this model as 'the new normal.'

Marginalised voices—Palestinian survivors, Mizrahi Jews who reject Zionism, and anti-colonial Israelis—are systematically excluded from this narrative. Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish’s work, for instance, centres the trauma of displacement, while Mizrahi scholar Ella Shohat critiques the erasure of Arab-Jewish histories. The silencing of these perspectives reinforces the illusion that Zionism is a monolithic project, ignoring its internal contradictions and the diversity of Jewish thought.