“Don’t insult our intelligence” — Bernie Sanders confronts Netanyahu’s government.

No, Mr. Netanyahu, it is neither anti-Semitic nor pro-Hamas to report that in just over six months your extremist government has killed 34,000 Palestinians and injured 77,000, 70% of whom are women and children.

It’s not anti-Semitic to report that your attacks have destroyed 221k homes in Gaza, leaving one million people homeless, or nearly half the population.

It is not antisemitic to say that your government has reduced Gaza’s civil infrastructure, including electricity, water, and sewerage.

It’s not anti-Semitic to realize that this government has destroyed Gaza’s healthcare system, rendering 26 hospitals unusable and killing 400 health workers.

It is not anti-Semitic to condemn the destruction of Gaza’s twelve universities and 56 schools, with hundreds more damaged and 625 thousand students without education.

It is not antisemitic to agree with humanitarian organizations to claim that this government, in violation of American law, has unreasonably blocked humanitarian aid intended for Gaza, creating conditions in which hundreds of thousands of children are malnourished and at risk of starvation.

Mr. Netanyahu, Antisemitism is a vile and disgusting form of intolerance that has caused untold damage to millions of people. But please don’t insult the intelligence of the American people by trying to distract us from your extremist government’s immoral and illegal war policies. Don’t use antisemitism to distract attention from the charges he faces in Israeli courts.

It is not anti-Semitic to hold him accountable for his actions.

­‑- Bernie Sanders (American Senator of Jewish origin)

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[Ken Gray] I complement Bernie Sanders’ charges with a simple story from Asil Yaghi, a writer and law graduate from Gaza. This piece is published in “Daybreak in Gaza: Stories of Palestinian Lives and Culture.”

[Asil Yaghi] “My mother wept today. It was a defeated, weary weeping. My mother, whose wonderful cook’s hands everyone swears by, wept after burning the maqlubeh [a meat and rice dish], even though it wasn’t her fault. We haven’t been able to find the right cooking pot after being displaced for the fourth time to what is, supposedly, the final stop: Rafah.

The maqlubeh wasn’t the only thing to burn today. First it was my heart. That morning I had seen a beautiful little boy, all dressed up, carrying a small pot to somewhere that looked like it was giving out food. And once he left that place crowded with people waving containers above their heads, I cried like I never had throughout this nightmare. I cried because on his way back, the boy was laughing. I cried because if I were him, I would have broken down in tears. But he laughed as he described the scene: ‘It’s hopeless!’

Does that boy realise? Does he comprehend the meaning of ‘hopeless’ in a situation like this? How could he have left laughing? And why was he laughing at all?

Oh God… My mother didn’t weep because the maqlubeh hadn’t worked out. She wept because we’d had to throw it in the bin. We all tried to reassure her that God understood what we were going through, that He had watched as we’d tried to eat it.

No matter what we said, she carried on crying. I tried to calm her down, and then she got up, eyes brimming with tears, to lay out her prayer rug and cry to God, begging for His forgiveness. I am still in shock that my mother, despite tasting the pain of losing her entire family, her dearest relatives, the ones closest to my heart and hers, wept for God’s forgiveness because we had to throw food away.”