Cindy Milstein (they) on Nostr: Six Gregorian calendar years ago, yesterday on October 27, the antisemitic “great ...
Six Gregorian calendar years ago, yesterday on October 27, the antisemitic “great replacement theory,” shaped by fascism, xenophobia, and xtian white supremacy, led to the murder of eleven Jews belonging to three different shuls in the Tree of Life in Pittsburgh.
As someone put it so powerfully and, alas, perfectly for me at our Kaddish to Counter Fascism last night, it’s hard to feel anything but rage on this yahrzeit (though tears of sorrow bubbled up too). It’s difficult to understand how so much organizing, ritual as resistance, antifascist grieving, community self-defense, and mutual aid six years ago could bring us to this place, when things are so, so much worse.
So much worse, in fact, that finally liberals are awakening to the “fascism v fascism” nonchoice in a little over a week. So much worse, that Kamala can put out a “sympathy” statement about this October 27 anniversary and speak of “safety through security” as justification for genocide, either crassly appealing for “Jewish” (aka pro-Israel) votes or just being a cog in the US death machine. So much worse, that the few dozen of us at this anarchistic Kaddish—scrappy self-organized in a park near what some call the “weeping tree” because of other similar gatherings here—are grieving not “merely” the Tree of Life shootings (which as was clear last night, meant such intimate proximity to loss for so many who circled up and shared stories of that time), not “merely” Gaza and all the related dispossession, displacement, and death for Palestinians, not “merely” the fascism in the United States, but also the loss of the idea and practices of “safety through solidarity,” poignantly among our wider relations with Jewish kin and Jewish communities.
So we torn strips of fabric and wrote the blessed names of our dead on them, tying them on a string alongside our banner. We made a temporary altar of antifascist zines by Jews and Muslims, using acorns to hold down the paper, and sprinkled rose petals. One person somberly added pieces of a broken plate. We sang, communed, and opened up.
Ephemeral sacred space as our rededication to countering the worsening fascism and collectively caring for each other.
(This Kaddish was pulled together by a batch of us with Ratzon [www.ratzonpgh.org], a lovingly Jewish do-it-ourselves project using anarchistic and queer ethics to guide ritual, resistance, and prefigurative politics.)
As someone put it so powerfully and, alas, perfectly for me at our Kaddish to Counter Fascism last night, it’s hard to feel anything but rage on this yahrzeit (though tears of sorrow bubbled up too). It’s difficult to understand how so much organizing, ritual as resistance, antifascist grieving, community self-defense, and mutual aid six years ago could bring us to this place, when things are so, so much worse.
So much worse, in fact, that finally liberals are awakening to the “fascism v fascism” nonchoice in a little over a week. So much worse, that Kamala can put out a “sympathy” statement about this October 27 anniversary and speak of “safety through security” as justification for genocide, either crassly appealing for “Jewish” (aka pro-Israel) votes or just being a cog in the US death machine. So much worse, that the few dozen of us at this anarchistic Kaddish—scrappy self-organized in a park near what some call the “weeping tree” because of other similar gatherings here—are grieving not “merely” the Tree of Life shootings (which as was clear last night, meant such intimate proximity to loss for so many who circled up and shared stories of that time), not “merely” Gaza and all the related dispossession, displacement, and death for Palestinians, not “merely” the fascism in the United States, but also the loss of the idea and practices of “safety through solidarity,” poignantly among our wider relations with Jewish kin and Jewish communities.
So we torn strips of fabric and wrote the blessed names of our dead on them, tying them on a string alongside our banner. We made a temporary altar of antifascist zines by Jews and Muslims, using acorns to hold down the paper, and sprinkled rose petals. One person somberly added pieces of a broken plate. We sang, communed, and opened up.
Ephemeral sacred space as our rededication to countering the worsening fascism and collectively caring for each other.
(This Kaddish was pulled together by a batch of us with Ratzon [www.ratzonpgh.org], a lovingly Jewish do-it-ourselves project using anarchistic and queer ethics to guide ritual, resistance, and prefigurative politics.)