“They say as a child I appeared a little bit wild
With all my crazy ideas
But I knew what was happenin’, I knew I was a genius
What’s so strange when you know that you’re a wizard at three?
I knew that this was meant to be”

— Lambert, Hendricks, & Ross, Twisted (1952)

When I stepped off the 156 at the bus stop just south of Lincoln Park, I could see the pro-Palestinian demonstrators gathered in front of Augustus Saint-Gaudens’ statue of Abraham Lincoln. Others were headed in the same direction, including two teenagers carrying signs, as well as a mother and her four- or five-year-old son, who was both visibly and verbally unenthusiastic about his Presidents’ Day adventure. The program had just commenced as I headed to the front of the crowd, comprised predominantly of mothers, fathers, baby-sitters, preschoolers, and elementary school students. I had arrived just in time to hear singer and guitarist Adam Gottlieb (affiliated with Tzdedek Chicago) teach the kids how to sing Viva Palestina.

My initial reaction was one of bemusement, largely because the Chicago Police Department was out in force. North LaSalle Drive was lined with police cars; the pathway leading to the southern end of Lincoln Park was blocked by at least four police SUVs; the CPD’s brigade of bicycle cops lined Clark Street and the assembly’s periphery; a large salt truck with plow attached circled the surrounding streets; and I even heard a helicopter overhead. I also saw several high-ranking police officials circulating among the demonstrators.

The mixture of toddlers and armed police officers created a visual incongruity. Did the police bring kid-size zip-ties in case any of the toddlers decided to shutdown DuSable Lake Shore Drive or LaSalle Street? Were officers wearing smaller-than-usual truncheons just in case the youngsters resisted arrest? Off on some side street, had the police positioned Flexible Flyer Classic Wagons painted blue and white should an unruly youngster require transport to the County’s time-out circle?

To my eye, CPD’s response was over the top. This was not the 1968 Democratic National Convention, but possibly CPD was practicing for the August 2024 return of the Democrats.

On further reflection, however, I recognized what was going on: CPD was out in force to protect the demonstrators from a rogue actor driving a speeding car or unloading an AK-47 into the crowd. The Johnson Administration was taking no chances, which unfortunately, makes perfect sense given last week’s Super Bowl celebration in Kansas City.

While the police presence was visually comical, the officers were professional, maintaining a low-key posture. I overheard several senior police officials speak to the event organizers, offering them whatever assistance they required.

As the police presence receded in my mind, my emotions shifted from bemusement to distress, explained in part by a sign held by a toddler that read, “Does Children Being Murdered Only Matter If You Are White??” Did the toddler write the sign? Probably not, but this toddler is apparently being prepped for the all-pervasive world of identity politics— one where people are ‘sliced and diced’ into distinct groups, thereby exorcising them of any connection that might have had to humanity at large. Some groups are inherently good, while others are inherently bad.

At one point during the formal speeches, a four- or five-year-old gleefully took the mic, launching into a diatribe rooted in “Peek-a-Boo, I See You.” I had some difficulty making out each word, but this is a transcription of what I did hear:

Guys, when you see Israel, try to get any of them out of your sight, and never let them see you, because when you see them [four or five words were indecipherable]…and when you see them, and they might see you back, and you know what happens if they see. [my italics]

An adult, presumably the mother, then took the mic back, but not before a second child screamed into the mic, “Free Palestine.” When another adult took the mic, she proclaimed, “That was very cool.” I was struck by the boy’s repeated use of the words “them” and “they,” as in “us” and “them.” Actually, not so cool given that every individual falling into the “them” category does not necessarily share the same views or inclinations that are being attributed to “them.” Stereotyping is problematic.

The child’s speech raises a serious question that extends far beyond the Hamas-Israel war. This question hovers over demonstrations pertaining to abortion, guns, immigration, and a host of other hot-button social issues. Where is the line between a parent’s right and duty to inculcate his or her child with values that the parent believes are critical to the child’s development, and providing children with the information and latitude to form their own values and opinions?

I have yet to ascertain where the divide neatly resides, and probably never will. In the case of the child who took the mic, I do have several questions: Has he ever met an Israeli? Does he believe all Israelis hold the same views toward Palestinians? Is he aware of what Hamas did to Israeli civilians on October 7, including children, some of whom were kidnapped from their homes? How would he react if his parents were gunned down before his very eyes? Has he watched any of the videos that the Hamas fighters recorded on that fateful day? Does he regularly read the New York Times, Washington Post, Wall Street Journal, Foreign Affairs, Economist, and other respected publications? Has he read any books on the Israeli-Palestinian decades-old perplexity?

Similar questions can be asked about the children holding “Stop the Genocide” signs, marching behind the black banner demanding a ceasefire, or filling in the words “Free Palestine” on coloring-book-like pages using the supplied markers. The children were cute, but as they develop critical thinking skills, will they have the ability or inclination to re-evaluate their first beliefs and impressions? To formulate their own viewpoints?

While young children dominated the rally, the principal speakers were high school students who delivered impassioned speeches. The students were both poised and articulate. Yet, I wondered whether they had been exposed to competing viewpoints or facts that might undermine or test their positions.

This was particularly true when a young woman took the mic. Her remarks focused on the similarities between Palestinians and Latinos, with an emphasis on colonial conquest and oppression. According to this student,

This is what imperialists do. They take the indigenous language, the people, the land, and the culture, and they wash it out of us. . . .

You see, colonists didn’t come and destroy only the culture. They stole the land. They committed a genocide to establish the government we live under right now. The indigenous population became aggressive and violent to them. They became the foreign people even though the land was theirs.

Don’t you see the similarities, the joint struggle Mexico and Palestine. The way they have irreversibly [shamed?] Mexico. The way they are doing this to Palestine and her beautiful people. And we Latinos we have a history of being great revolutionaries . . ., something we share with the Palestinian people. . . .

Our struggles are similar. . . . When people chant ‘From Palestine to Mexico the border walls have got to go,’ we mean it. . . . the land is not something to be divided up for profit, the way Zionists are doing to Palestine. The land is for the people. . . .

So to my fellow Latino youth and students, stand up, stand tall, and stand together. We are the voices the Palestinians in Gaza are calling for.

Most likely she was operating under time constraints, which may explain why she did not fully state her family’s lineage. What she did say was flawed, largely because it was rooted in nondescript words like “imperialism, colonization, and indigenous.”

The student identifies as Latino. Her family may very well have been mistreated as they tried to grab hold of the American dream. But beyond her great grandparents, how deep are the roots of her family tree, and where do they lead? Might her ancestors be Spanish conquistadors or their indigenous allies who helped destroy the Aztec Empire in the Spanish-Aztec War of 1519? Might her distant ancestors have treated indigenous people like the Israelis treated the Palestinians in 1948, assuming that the Nakba narrative is an accurate one?

I am skeptical that viewing the Israeli-Palestinian conflict through a settler-colonial lens is a fruitful way to resolve the ongoing dispute. Given the span of human history, today’s oppressed may well have been yesterday’s oppressors. The student, in developing her argumentation, chooses to parse history’s timeline by focusing on the treatment of Latinos over the last 200 years—at least that how I am interpreting her remarks, which don’t fully state the history I believe she is referring to—but the arc of history extends over millennia, offering advocates the opportunity to pick and choose points on the timeline that conveniently support their arguments and narratives, while ignoring points that undercut those same arguments and narratives.

1948 might be a useful date for pro-Palestinian advocates, but during the Middle Ages, Muslim rulers accorded Jews the status of protected, but inferior personages (dhimmis). While at times Jews were integrated into Muslim society, in some locales and during certain periods, Jews were massacred, expelled, and taxed. The historical record is a complicated one, subject to various interpretations, but evidence can be found that at certain points in time, Muslims were the oppressors and Jews were the oppressed.

There is no need to look to the Middle Ages. Since 1948, many Jews have been evicted from Middle Eastern and North African societies, sometimes being forced to leave their property behind. The critical point: History is fluid, with roles shifting over time. Oppressors become the oppressed; the good become the bad; and the conquerors become the conquered.

By coincidence, Lydia Polgreen, an op-ed columnist with the New York Times, has an excellent column in today’s paper addressing the problem posed by the historical lens that so many pro-Palestinian advocates rely upon when constructing their arguments. Polgreen’s willingness to reject the historical lens is rooted in the work of Iyad el-Baghdadi, a Palestinian writer and activist, who told Polgreen:

Don’t take these people [those who base their arguments on indigeneity] seriously. They’re not really motivated by some kind of ideology. They’re really motivated by emotion, and they kind of slap together an ideology to satisfy their emotion, but then emotions, by their very nature, cannot be satisfied that way. . . .

The solution is not to constantly try to moralize. The solution is to fix the power imbalance. The future needs to be rooted in the truth that all human beings are equal and that Jewish life is equivalent to Palestinian life and that we can together work on a future in which nobody is oppressed and we can address the inequities of the past.

Based on Polgreen’s discussion with Baghdadi and her interesting recap of thinkers who have addressed colonialism, Polgreen concludes that the historical eggs cannot be unscrambled, which means the settler-colonization and the oppressed—oppressor lenses are not helpful—ones that are tainted by choices made when advocates for one side choose a particular spot on the timeline to direct their focus. According to Polgreen, both the Palestinians and Israelis must look to the future, coming up with a creative solution to the seemingly insolvable problem that has ironically bound them together since the days of Theodor Herzl, and arguably far longer.

Returning to the Latino student and much of the argumentations coming from college campuses, she and the campus pro-Palestinian cohort should look to the future rather than the historical record for solutions. By looking to history and empty, but fashionable multi-syllabic words, their argumentation rings hollow because the historical record supports contradictory and easily malleable viewpoints.

While the student and the three other speakers were at times impassioned, they showed more restraint than I typically hear other pro-Palestinian rallies, which made these speakers more audience appropriate. One of the speakers, for example, referred to Genocide Joe, but then held out an olive branch, suggesting that if President Biden changed course, he could redeem himself as Gentle Joe.

After the students finished their remarks, the young demonstrators snapped into formation behind banners for the short march to the Chicago Historical Society. The organizers had tables ready for the children. Some musical instruments and toys were visible. The kids had the opportunity to write notes to President Biden on pre-addressed postcards with photographs of Palestinian children on the front of the cards. Several adults led chants, although their effort yielded lackluster results as the children chased each other, climbed on the empty fountain, ate snacks, chased soap bubbles emitted from a machine, and even tried unsuccessfully to fly a kite—one asked me for assistance; I pointed out that there was no wind.

After 20 minutes, many kids and their minders headed into the museum.

Although my comments do raise questions about whether the protest was an appropriate one given the age group, overall, I commend the parents. We can all agree on one thing: Teaching kids about civic engagement is an important and worthwhile endeavor.

[Click on an Image to Expand It. The Images Are Not In Strict Chronological Order]