A few years ago, the Syrian writer and dissident Yassin al-haj Saleh warned of the Syrianisation of the world. As Assad continued to egregiously bomb hospitals and civilians, forcing millions to flee their homelands, much of the world looked on. Even so-called progressive voices turned to mangled excuses and justifications before listening to the requests and lifeworlds of Syrians.
Syrianisation, for al-haj Saleh, implied a dangerous normalisation of impunity. When hospital bombings - whether by Syrian, Israeli, Russian, US, or Sudanese forces and paramilitaries - go ahead without political consequences, the effects are global. Empires and states notice precedents of permissibility. As haj-Saleh reminds, after all, 'Syria is the world, and the world is Syria.' These weeks, Saleh has described and lamented the ‘Syrianisation’ of Palestine.
Solidarity, association, love across borders: these aren't just nice slogans. They are reminders that our universe is one of inescapable mutuality. What is happening in Gaza, in Sudan, in Ukraine, in Mexico, in Haiti, in Myanmar, in Uyghur territories, across the Amazon, spills across those names to form a collective mirror. James Baldwin put it well: 'We have yet to understand that if I am starving, you are in danger. If people think that my danger makes them safe, we are in trouble.'
We are in deep trouble. Fascists - from Russia to Israel to Azerbaijan to the US to India - are brazen. Fossil fuel corporations, pushing our planet into an abyss, are arguably more powerful than ever. Climate violence is intensifying beyond even the most alarming predictions. The world's wealthiest states are fortifying their borders, purchasing land in other continents, and doubling down on a future of obscene inequality. The EU has legitimised making the Mediterranean into a liquid cemetery. Life for many, even in affluent states, is becoming increasingly unaffordable and unliveable. If our terrifying present isn't radicalising us, what will?
A breath. There is only so much a being can witness or name. I come back to al-haj Saleh's reminder: 'The world is a trajectory, not a reality.' It is up to us to tectonically shift our collective trajectory, knowing that transformation occurs at every scale: inside us, in our intimate relationships, in the ecologies we rely on.
The news around us is overwhelming and immobilising, but our ancestors remind us that we are commanded to walk through the darkness. As Rebbe Nachman reminds, the deepest forms of hope are found in the heart of hopelessness, when the deep time of the world splits our present open. As al-haj Saleh, survivor of 16 years in prison, whose beloved wife was forcibly disappeared in 2013, noted: ‘We have been crushed, true - but we create meaning from suffering. We struggle to the end, hope needs us as much as we need it. Our powerful enemies do not feel safe and secure unless we surrender ourselves to despair. Despair is their friend, hope is ours.’
Thank you for this, Daniel. Always grateful for small mirror reflections of our inner turmoil, and grateful for thoughtful comrades like you ♥️