The Theater of Humiliation: When Politics Becomes Performance Art
There’s something deeply unsettling about watching a government official turn human suffering into a spectacle. Israel’s far-right National Security Minister, Itamar Ben-Gvir, recently posted a video of himself taunting detained activists from the Global Sumud Flotilla, and it’s not just the content that’s disturbing—it’s the intent. The video, captioned ‘welcome to Israel,’ shows activists being pushed, dragged, and forced to kneel with zip-tied hands as the Israeli national anthem blares. Personally, I think this isn’t just a display of power; it’s a calculated performance designed to send a message—both to the activists and to the world.
What makes this particularly fascinating is how it reveals the intersection of politics and theater. Ben-Gvir isn’t just enforcing a policy; he’s staging a moment. The activists, who were attempting to break Israel’s nearly two-decade-long maritime blockade of Gaza, become props in his narrative. From my perspective, this isn’t about national security—it’s about dominance, about asserting control through humiliation. And that’s what many people don’t realize: this isn’t a one-off incident; it’s part of a pattern. Lawyers from the Adalah Center have documented similar behavior in the past, where activists are treated not as dissenters but as enemies to be degraded.
The Blockade: Security or Siege?
Israel insists its blockade of Gaza is lawful, a necessary measure to protect its national security. But if you take a step back and think about it, the blockade has effectively turned Gaza into an open-air prison. The activists on the flotilla argue they’re not just delivering aid—they’re challenging a policy that has created a humanitarian crisis. What this really suggests is that the blockade isn’t just about security; it’s about control, about isolating Gaza from the world.
One thing that immediately stands out is the hypocrisy in how Israel enforces this policy. Intercepting ships in international waters? That’s not security—that’s piracy, plain and simple. And yet, when activists call it out, they’re labeled as provocateurs or Hamas sympathizers. In my opinion, this is a classic case of gaslighting on a geopolitical scale. Israel wants to frame the narrative as a battle between good and evil, but the reality is far more complex.
The Global Response: Condemnation, but Will There Be Action?
The international response to Ben-Gvir’s video has been swift, with leaders like Australia’s Foreign Minister and Italy’s Prime Minister Georgia Meloni condemning the treatment of the activists. But here’s the thing: condemnation is easy. What’s harder is taking action. Australia, for instance, has sanctioned Ben-Gvir, but when asked if they believe Israel’s blockade is appropriate, they’ve remained silent. This raises a deeper question: how much of this outrage is performative, and how much is genuine?
A detail that I find especially interesting is Italy’s demand for an apology and the summoning of Israel’s ambassador. It’s a rare move, one that suggests Italy isn’t willing to let this slide. But will it lead to anything meaningful? History tells us that Israel often operates with impunity, especially when it comes to its treatment of Palestinians and their supporters. What many people don’t realize is that international pressure rarely translates into real change unless it’s backed by concrete actions—sanctions, trade restrictions, or diplomatic isolation.
The Psychology of Humiliation: Why It Matters
Humiliation isn’t just a tactic; it’s a weapon. By degrading the activists, Ben-Gvir isn’t just asserting control—he’s dehumanizing them. This isn’t about law and order; it’s about breaking spirits. And that’s what makes this so dangerous. When a government uses humiliation as a tool, it’s not just targeting individuals; it’s sending a message to anyone who dares to challenge its authority.
From my perspective, this is where the real battle lies—not in the blockade itself, but in the narrative surrounding it. Israel wants to frame the activists as threats, as enemies of the state. But if you look closer, what they’re really doing is exposing the fragility of that narrative. The fact that Ben-Gvir felt the need to stage this spectacle suggests that Israel is feeling the pressure, both domestically and internationally.
The Future: Will Anything Change?
So, what’s next? Will this incident lead to meaningful change, or will it be forgotten in the endless cycle of news? Personally, I think the answer lies in how the international community chooses to respond. If countries like Australia and Italy are serious about their condemnation, they need to move beyond words. They need to hold Israel accountable, not just for this incident but for the broader policies that led to it.
One thing is clear: the activists on the Global Sumud Flotilla aren’t just challenging a blockade; they’re challenging a narrative. And in doing so, they’re forcing the world to confront uncomfortable questions about justice, humanity, and power. What this really suggests is that the fight for Gaza isn’t just about lifting a blockade—it’s about dismantling a system of oppression.
In the end, Ben-Gvir’s video isn’t just a display of cruelty; it’s a reflection of a deeper problem. And until we address that problem, incidents like this will keep happening. The question is: are we willing to do what it takes to stop them?
