Israel, Gaza, and the Empire of Lies: Dr. Gabor Maté on Truth and Trauma

Out Loud with Ahmed Eldin

Israel had to be a colonial enterprise. You couldn’t possibly establish a Jewish state in Palestine without coming in with the force of empire. In order to maintain power, you have to dehumanize the other. As you dehumanize the other, you dehumanize yourself; you lose your own humanity. The New York Times, for example, has a blind spot. They recently published an article about a caviar farm in Israel, showcasing the farm’s operations despite the ongoing war and the suffering in the region. This highlights a significant disconnect in how Palestinian lives are represented compared to Israeli interests. The International Criminal Court (ICC) has become ineffective, and there has always been a question about its actual power. Legally, there is a recognized definition of genocide, and many scholars from Israel have claimed that Israel’s actions meet this definition.

Bernie Sanders’ viewpoint seems to minimize the larger issue by suggesting that Netanyahu is the problem. One has to consider whether peace can truly be achieved without accountability for Israel’s actions. The narratives constructed by both the Israelis and Americans about their own histories are riddled with falsehoods. This so-called rule-based order has always been questionable. The psychological repercussions of living in a profit-driven system hinder our ability to confront pressing issues like these. Many struggle with anxiety, depression, and feelings of hopelessness just as I do.

In this conversation, I am joined by Dr. Gabor Maté, whose work has dramatically influenced my understanding of pain, politics, and the stories we carry in our bodies. Dr. Maté is a physician and Holocaust survivor who has been a formidable voice against the moral decay we are witnessing today. His insights into trauma, addiction, and child development have resonated with millions, myself included. Once a Zionist youth leader, Dr. Maté now identifies as a former Zionist and has referred to Gaza as a concentration camp while consistently challenging the ideological and political machinery that underlie the genocide happening today.

We delve into the legacies of trauma, the fabrications we cling to, and the essential choices that define our humanity in these distressing times. Dr. Maté, thank you for joining me. To clarify, the term “concentration camp” is not my invention; it originates from Israeli sociologist Baruch Kimmerling, who identified Gaza as the world’s largest concentration camp decades ago. Several months before the events of October 7th, a group of Israeli scholars categorized Israel as an apartheid state, further grounding the conversation in acknowledgment from within Israeli society itself.

You mentioned that you are a former Zionist. I’m curious to know what you once believed and what triggered such a profound shift in your views. Was it a gradual realization, or was there a specific moment that caused your beliefs to fracture? Zionism is an ideology with particular assumptions about the world and one’s place in it. At one point, this framework made sense to me, influenced largely by my family’s horrific experiences during the Holocaust. It seemed logical to have a Jewish state where we could protect ourselves against historical persecution.

However, Zionism conveniently ignored the existence of the Palestinians, who also have a rich history and claim to the land. By the time I engaged with that reality, my beliefs began to shift. This transformation was gradual but significantly expedited by the research I conducted on the Six-Day War in 1967, revealing that Israel initiated the conflict rather than merely defending itself against Arab aggression. I openly stated that the war aimed at capturing territory that would never be returned, which led to my estrangement from my family.

As someone familiar with the process of disillusionment, I can relate to your sentiments. It seems that many people encounter similar feelings regardless of their backgrounds. Disillusionment, while uncomfortable, can be liberating. It’s essential to confront and shed the ideologies we cling to, even when they promise a sense of belonging. As someone who grew up under communism, I experienced my first disillusionment regarding the ideals of equality and justice that the regime promised but failed to deliver.

When we look at the present context, especially with the ongoing violence, it raises profound questions about our collective humanity. Trauma, especially inherited trauma, shapes our responses. The horrors of the Holocaust should never justify the subjugation of another people. The weaponization of trauma leads to collective cruelty, evidenced by public approval of escalated violence against Palestinians.

We need to recognize that the dehumanization inflicted on Palestinians reflects a broader trend in colonial environments. Throughout history, colonial systems operate by dismissing the humanity of the indigenous populations. Current attitudes in Israel, backed by political leaders, reveal a dangerous trajectory. You could almost predict the outbursts of collective violence that equate self-defense with the justification for mass killings.

The ongoing media narratives and societal attitudes allow for this horrible cycle to continue. As members of society grapple with these truths, we must also question the very foundations of their operational frameworks, which prioritize profit over people. In terms of the path forward, it’s important to center conversations around healing, collective responsibility, and systemic change.

In addressing disillusionment and trauma, there’s an innate struggle in us all. Many people are grappling with empathy, feeling increasingly isolated or discouraged by the powerful forces around them. Those who aim to speak truthfully and compassionately, like Francesca Alban, often face backlash, yet their perseverance is crucial.

Ultimately, as much as these systemic issues seem daunting, the hope lies in human connection and grassroots movements for justice. Disillusionment can be a catalyst for change. It forces us to confront uncomfortable truths about ourselves and our systems. And while it may feel like a struggle, acknowledging our shared humanity can foster a sense of community and responsibility toward change.

This is a moment for advocacy and amplification of voices that challenge these narratives. Young people today have the potential to transform their anger, despair, and hopelessness into unified actions that demand accountability, emphasize empathy, and protect the dignity of all people. The ongoing spirit of resistance found in truth-telling is an essential reminder that against all odds, humanity will always seek justice.