A sharp 1948 cartoon from the New York Times depicts a rugged figure labelled ‘Palestine’ confronting the Grand Mufti, swastika gleaming, beneath the sardonic caption Not like Dachau, is it, Herr Mufti? Fast-forward and the wardrobe features iPhones and varsity hoodies instead of jackboots, yet the plot remains depressingly familiar.
Today’s cosplay revolutionaries chant Free Palestine as though it were a brand-new slogan discovered on TikTok, blithely ignoring that, in 1948, the very same phrase meant give the Jews a state so they could stop being stateless targets. Historical irony can be brutal—much like Hamas’s constitution, incidentally.
Enter the modern protest-scene influencer: keen on latte art, allergic to libraries. They bawl Free Palestine with the gusto of a football terrace, blissfully unaware that, back then, the cry meant grant the Jews a homeland so they could stop being hunted. Historical context? Too many syllables, apparently.
These self-styled anti-fascists rail against colonialism while parroting talking points lifted straight from theocratic strongmen. They’ll dye their hair for Pride Month, then cheer groups who fling gay men off rooftops. Cognitive dissonance has never looked so photogenic on Instagram Stories.
Yes—let’s free Palestine. Free it from Hamas’s clerical racketeers who convert foreign aid into rockets and seaside villas. Free it from the Islamonazis who turn children into human shields and treat ceasefires as tea-breaks between atrocities. And while we’re trimming the dead weight, perhaps free the hashtag brigade from their wilful amnesia.
If your battle-cry fits neatly on a tote bag, chances are it needs footnotes. History refuses to be a fifteen-second reel.