Mritika Senthil | Shallow solidarity: How ignorance trivializes the Israel-Hamas conflict

"We can disagree and still be friends."

"Yes, bitch. About pizza toppings. Not genocide."

If you’ve been on the pro-Palestine side of social media lately, you might have come across this variation of an original dialogue that began to circulate during the 2020 Black Lives Matter protests. Now, it’s been repurposed as an ultimatum of sorts: an implication that there is no middle ground when critiquing Israel. 

By reposting these provocative messages on their Instagram stories and X (formerly known as Twitter) feeds, many students at Penn have contributed to a greater trend, one that estranges anyone who even marginally disagrees with their take on a centuries-long geopolitical conflict that’s only taken center stage in mainstream Western diplomacy after the 1948 founding of the State of Israel.

This blatant partisanship can be found on either side of the Israel-Hamas conflict — including, in the eyes of many, the involved governments. I’ve never been particularly outspoken about my takes on a potential ceasefire or the two-state solution, at least publicly. I’ve never suggested that one side is somehow more justified in its attacks of the other. However, I have posted criticism of an antisemitic riot in the Russian Republic of Dagestan, after which over 60 Instagram users unfollowed me, including some whom I’ve been acquainted with for the past decade.

I do not mean to use this column to lament my loss of followers, many of whom I assume are not antisemites themselves. But I’m surprised by the extent to which my classmates can presume my political positions based on a single post. I’m also disappointed: when anyone attempts to criticize what is objectively a violation of civil rights, they are flooded with DMs and comments from netizens asking, “What about the children of Gaza?” For example, check out the comments under any of UK Prime Minister Rishi Sunak’s recent Instagram posts. In a similar vein, a fellow Daily Pennsylvanian columnist’s critique of Penn’s retracting donor base has attracted multiple dismissive comments along the lines of "identifying yourself with the oppressed and rejected will not pay off as handsomely as it seems these days … you’re still a Jew."

Unfortunately, I’m not alone. Many college students have garnered hostility for their silence on social media, but they tend to have the greatest stakes in the Israel-Hamas conflict. Many of them are international students using F-1 visas; their statuses as US residents lie partly on their online activities. How can they be held accountable for their lack of slacktivism when their livelihoods depend on the vigilance with which they like, comment, and subscribe? It’s easy to dismiss these concerns as material, irrelevant in comparison to those of the children orphaned in war-torn refugee camps. But ignoring the nuances of any political conflict can lead to reductionist rhetoric, equating Israeli vs. Palestinian with Jew vs. Muslim or White vs. Arab, further escalating instances of ethnic and religious discrimination on campus. For instance, while Palestinians are predominantly Muslim, there exists a spectrum of esoteric communities, such as the Druze and Samaritans, that challenges the popular notion that Palestinian minorities are exclusively Christian. 

As a South Asian American, I’ve also realized that, oftentimes, my community fails to recognize how our people are affected by the existence of a Jewish state. Most notably, the Israeli population consists of over 80,000 ethnically South Asian Jews from present-day India and Pakistan. Further, Ahmadiyya, an Islamic revival movement with roots in British India, is continuing to flourish near Israel’s Haifa city. Israel is the only Middle Eastern country that allows members of this community to publicly practice their faith. Nevertheless, many South Asians argue on behalf of the Palestinian cause to oppose India’s pro-Israel Bharatiya Janata Party, which has faced allegations of Hindu nationalism.

I am not trying to dismiss the genuine voices of Palestinians, many of whom are currently grieving for their families and homeland. They, as well as their allies, do not incentivize passive, derogatory commentary on social media.

Rather, I am calling out those of you who empathize selectively — an action that ironically reeks of privilege. By brazenly protesting ad hominem, it is clear that you are an activist for the sake of fulfilling your self-satisfaction or signaling virtue. As a testament to how desensitized we have become, there are now satirical "missing cow" flyers that have recently been hung near 1920 Commons. Are we so open to discrediting civilian deaths on the basis of nationality? I don’t know about individuals on the frontlines, but what is the necessity of implying that us students are not even disturbed by but actually seek the concessions accompanying such gruesome casualties? We were chosen to attend this institution because we demonstrate at least some desire to learn. And so, we must begin to engage in productive dialogue without assuming ill intentions.

MRITIKA SENTHIL is a first year studying Management and Russian & East European Studies from Columbia, South Carolina. Her email is mritikas@upenn.edu.