Slingshots, beanstalks, and the block-aid

Humanity has long revered the underdog. From epic poetry to children’s stories, we instinctively know who to cheer and fear. Yet, when it applies to real-life power and violence, that logic often breaks down. What if we turned again to these stories and epic allegories, not as escape, but to clarify the most horrific, ongoing humanitarian crisis of the 21stcentury? In the West, where Judeo-Christian myths still shape moral instinct, weaving the stories may illuminate an issue that is too often viewed as controversial: the suffering of the Palestinian people.

If we are to understand the state of Israel in a modern context, we must first return to the Levant at the time the Old Testament was written where the Holy texts illustrate the Israelites as settler-colonials in their own words. Deuteronomy 7:1–2 (USCCB) reads:

When the Lord, your God, brings you into the land which you are about to enter to possess, and removes many nations before you—the Hittites, Girgashites, Amorites, Canaanites, Perizzites, Hivites, and Jebusites, seven nations more numerous and powerful than you—and when the Lord, your God, gives them over to you and you defeat them, you shall put them under the ban. Make no covenant with them and do not be gracious to them.

The aforementioned quote sets the stage for analyzing and explaining the story of David and Goliath. As Pitkänen writes in his chapter, “Settler Colonialism in Ancient Israel” (The Routledge Handbook of the History of Settler Colonialism), historians largely rely on religious texts and written sources from the time the two principal Jewish kingdoms were destroyed (25–26): Samaria, which fell to the Assyrians in the 8th century BCE, and Judah, which was conquered by the Babylonians in the 6th century BCE. It was in this region, the so-called promised land, that the Israelites found the Philistines (not to be confused with modern-day Palestinians) were already settled. This sets the stage for our analysis of the story of David and Goliath.

We know from 1 Samuel 17:4 (USCCB) that Goliath was the champion for the Philistines; the Israelites were initially terrified upon seeing Goliath (1 Samuel 17:11, 24 USCCB); David fought him, striking him dead with a single stone from his slingshot before decapitating Goliath with his own sword as an invader would turn a firearm on the gun owner in his rightful home.

By these accounts, David is no hero but a rampaging conqueror akin to Gilgamesh. By all appearances, David was outsized and outmatched by Goliath. Smaller, younger, and with no armor, his victory was not just miraculous, it was violent. Decapitating Goliath and claiming his weapon, it would be appropriate to call this story of liberation one of conquest. The United States might have served appropriately as a counterweight to the upstart power, donning—metaphorically—the armor of former empires. Instead, like Enkidu to Gilgamesh, the US joined the conquest, unleashing devastation across newly independent postcolonial nations.

As I write, the Global Sumud Flotilla (our beanstalk) has come under attack. Off the coast of Greece, explosions have been reported along with multiple drones targeting some of the boats bringing much needed aid to Gazans under siege. The humanitarians aboard these boats are all Jack, as are those supporting them. Among them are members of Veterans for Peace, an international organization of veterans and likeminded allies who are committed to ending war and promoting peace. Together, they risk their lives to deliver much needed aid and to bear witness to what multiple legal scholars and UN experts have identified as genocide against the Palestinian people. Veterans for Peace’s participation reflects a long tradition of service which is rooted in solidarity and justice rather than war. The organization stands for the people of Gaza and calls on the global community to support nonviolent efforts to break the blockade and end the suffering.

Just as the beanstalk represents an access to resources and visibility, so too does the flotilla. Unlike the fairytale, however, the giant is slashing away, or more aptly firing away, at the beanstalk before it can reach and provide relief. The flotilla is not a means to riches but a provider of life to a land ravaged by a now-regional titan. David is done with slingshots and instead is a militarized, nuclear-armed behemoth in control of land borders, sea ports, and the skies.

With his nearly impenetrable armor of the Iron Dome, David strikes down and slays not only those who fire upon him, but also children who throw stones and those who bring medicine instead of swords. If an argument can ever be made that David was a hero, he certainly is not one now, for what hero blocks humanitarian aid? What kind of democracy is the so-called only democracy on the region that fears unarmed civilians with medical supplies?

The carelessness of Israel’s military strikes (and the impunity with which the IOF abuses and kills civilians) must weigh heavily on our moral consciousness. Let us look, then, to the flotilla for inspiration. Armed only with courage, food, and international law, those aboard represent some of the best humanity has to offer. With the US continuing to exercise veto over the recognition of Palestine, the best hope is to continue pushing forward through humanitarian action; the people through mass demonstrations have the attention of their governments. These governments are beginning to buckle and some, like Italy, have even deployed naval protection for the flotilla. With Spain now joining, it is imperative that the international community continue applying pressure.