For anyone that pays attention to queer news, the incident that occurred at the Dyke March in Chicago last month has become a common point of discussion, and a rather thorny one at that. A good number of the details remain uncertain, but as the story seems to go: during the Chicago Dyke March, three women carrying pride flags with the Star of David superimposed were kicked out of the event due to fear that it was an expression of Zionism. This occurred after an extended altercation between the march's organizers and the three women in question.
Shortly after,
Laurel Grauer at the Dyke March in Chicago. Source: Facebook
But what it did expose was how much more complicated the issue of the Israeli occupation of Palestine is than anyone would like to acknowledge, and beyond that how it fits into current American culture. Millions of people died branded with the Star of David after having been stripped of their humanity for their faith and nationality. Countless more died and were stripped of their humanity under the symbol after it was appropriated by the Israeli state and used as a symbol of dominance during the occupation of Palestine.
One of the dominant responses to what happened in Chicago was to bring up the inherent anti-Semitism in claiming that the Star of David in and of itself could be seen as upsetting (though as stated before, the details on whether or not that's actually the case are blurry, as Jewish Voices for Peace Chicago states many others at the event were displaying the symbol prominently and never approached about it). I would certainly agree with that sentiment. Yet when the Israeli flag is flown above settlements on the West Bank and painted onto the homes of Palestinians as an intimidation tactic, I think it's reasonable to understand why some might feel uncomfortable around it.
The Dyke March in Chicago 2017.
Of course, the issue of how we as Americans should approach the issue of the Israeli Palestinian conflict is nothing new. In fact, this comes on the heels of yet another long, heated discussion that took place over the ethics behind Radiohead's scheduled show in Tel Aviv on July 19. Countless artists signed a letter urging the band to cancel their show in respect of the cultural boycott taking place against Israel. In Thom Yorke's official response, he claimed "I just can't understand why going to play a rock show or going to lecture at a university [is a problem to them]... Now if you're talking about trying to make things progress in any society, if you create division, what do you get? You get fucking Theresa May. You get [Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin] Netanyahu, you get fucking Trump. That's divisive."
Thom Yorke of Radiohead.
From the perspective of an outsider, it's not really something that I feel I can take a firm, concrete stance on. I believe any stand that can be taken against the violent actions of Israeli government should be taken; yet how that fits into the lives of Israelis is another story. As a people, they're just as complex and nuanced as anyone from any other nationality, and they shouldn't be punished for the actions of an oppressive government. Likewise, outside of the argument that concerts staged in Israel directly benefit the government, I can't help but feel that being cut off from outside culture won't help much with progressing the cultural tides on the conflict. But for a band as inherently political as Radiohead, it is also questionable their lack of a meaningful response over the outcry.
I'm certainly no centrist, and I have my stance on the conflict itself, but the ways in which it ripples outwards into our culture and the lives of individuals isn't something I feel I can respond to in any simplified, succinct way. The issue of the Israeli occupation of Palestine is something that we need to better address as a culture, yet we desperately need a more nuanced view of how that fits into culture and identity. As a politically active gay man, I firmly believe that we should be doing everything we can to end the occupation, and beyond that to stamp out anti-Semitism both here and abroad. Yet where exactly it is that the political and the personal intersect on this issue is hard for me to say.
Kyle Mangione-Smith is a filmmaker and student living in Boston.