In both countries, the debate is about how—not whether—to conduct imperial violence.
Bringing the Criticism Home: What is an Election in the American Empire?
But let us bring some of these observations home, especially in light of the upcoming congressional midterms in the United States. One may point to real differences in these contexts, since much of American imperial violence in this century has been happening further from home, and the profits from it tend to be less well-distributed. That is to say, in this century we steal oil from Iraq and Venezuela rather than land from the Palestinians. We give that profit to multibillionaires at a higher rate, while Israel has universal healthcare. This leads to a visual difference between modern-day American imperialism and Israeli expansionism, but, on a fundamental level, with America having stolen land from the Native Americans and constructed its own version of social democracy with westward expansion on the back of slavery, even these differences have limits. And the same tendency to both moralize and singularly focus on the benefits for the imperial electorate, while blinding oneself to the needs and benefits of anyone else and justifying that blinding, exists strongly within the American electoral political system.
The United States does the same thing as Israel: exert power abroad (and over oppressed peoples at “home”), benefit from this extractive enterprise, and deny those it extracts from a democratic say in how the empire is run. All the while, it uses the democratic merits of domestic elections to justify itself as free. I want to highlight how the debate in the U.S. is also about how to run the empire, not whether to, in three major areas: foreign policy, immigration, and social democracy.
The War on Iran: “Why Aren’t You Winning It?,” “It’s Costing US Too Much,” “OUR People Are Dying.”
A vivid example of the tendency to implicitly confine U.S. politics only to the “national interest” occurred when Democrats came out with strong moralizing about the illegal invasion of Iran. Even after Donald Trump threatened to commit genocide, writing that “a whole civilization will die tonight,” the primary criticism was not that we shouldn’t have been meddling in other countries, or the extraordinary human cost of this intervention. Rather, it was that it cost American citizens too much. The image that’s constantly invoked in the U.S. media is the “pain at the pump” that American drivers experience buying gas, rather than the pain of Iranian parents who return, night after night, to sleep by their children’s graves in Minab. The primary criticism of the United States’ aggression that Democrats have is that it is destroying the U.S.’s image on the world stage—as if there really were anything left to destroy in the eyes of the millions that America has bombed, invaded, or ruled.
This mirrors the Israeli debates: Who pays the cost of this violence (inside the empire)? How does this violence profit us (inside the empire)? And how far are we willing to take this supremacist ideology we made up to justify bombing other countries when it was profitable (in barrels of oil) versus when it stops being profitable (invading another country that can actually strike a blow back)?
Immigration: “We Can Invade Their Countries, But How Dare They Be Here?”
Immigration brings the question of “who gets to decide” even closer to home, with the explicit gerrymandering of who is allowed within this country to maintain our “culture,” “society,” and “values.” Israel explicitly gerrymanders its borders to maintain a Jewish majority, and as noted above, this consistently limits Arab parties in their political project. The American right is becoming more open about that being the aim of their current immigration policy: maintaining a white majority. This aim is clear when the not-so-alt right, like the president, uses phrases like “import the third world, become the third world.” What exactly do you think they mean? And if we want to stretch it as far as possible, current right-wingers are pushing for an effective Aliyah to America for white South Africans while denying asylum to almost everyone else.
And what is the liberal response to this? It used to be something along the lines of America being a “melting pot” or America being “welcoming to everyone,” though with the caveat of holding “our” (implicitly white) values and culture, and still maintaining the primacy of Americanism. But even that facade of inclusion has clearly fallen for most Democrats. Instead, they have made a rightward shift, with even Kamala Harris and Bernie Sanders calling for us to “have a secure border” in what is already one of the most militarized non-war borders in the world. Their criticism is that ICE is too violent, but they agree that ultimately we do need to use force to police the border and expel unauthorized immigrants. They are not only co-signing the supremacist ideology that a settler colony has any right to kick people out of the country that it stole, but they are explicitly positioning their criticisms as a better way to enforce that right.
There are no major parties levying criticism against the settler-colonial borders, only against the “violent settlers” wearing ICE masks and Border Patrol vests that the state funds to enforce them. There is no critical reflection on why this violence is only committed against racialized minorities, or the role these “patriotic” liberals had in producing those forms of oppression. There’s only some moral hand-wringing when a particularly violent fascist takes their racist undertones, and very often overtones, seriously.
Social Democracy: “Hey Now, Why Don’t We Get Some of the Blood Money?”
Finally, let’s think about social democracy, which is one issue in which the problem is more obscured. To simplify, we can first look at social democracy in Israel. That is, the unpopular social democratic parties that are failing in the polls, like A Place for Us All (Makom Lekulanu / Maku Kulanu), which is related to the Standing Together movement. That movement does laudable work, keeping a protective presence in the West Bank and Jerusalem during Jerusalem Day. They are in support of reconciliation, as they say their aim is “building a shared home for all of us” on the basis of the alleged “shared interests” between the occupier and the occupied.
Significantly, though, even they must appeal to the alleged mutual suffering of settlers and Palestinians; even they must talk about the pain the IDF goes through in its terrorism. They don’t call for the abolition of the state or the state’s terrorists in the IDF, because a significant portion of their electorate consists of current or former IDF soldiers. (Due to Israel’s mandatory draft, this is true of almost all major parties, barring the Orthodox and some Arab ones.) Even those Arab parties must make concessions to this electorate for fear of what they are seeing right now, where they will either be made illegal or made toothless because their primary electorate is expelled, impoverished, or bought off.
I do not doubt the good intentions, and even the delusions of progress, many of the politicians, organizers and activists involved have. The issue is that the game they are playing is one in which the fascists draw the lines determining citizenship, and thus whose vote matters. As we’ve seen, participation in Israeli politics is confined to questions of how to maintain the violence, and that participation will be revoked if those confines are ever crossed.
Taking this dynamic directly to America, the strategy of contracting or expanding the franchise is one way we can understand the growth of fascist politics in the Trump era. We can see it play out in numerous cases, such as the widening of who is a “terrorist”—a term explicitly leveraged to connote the foreign “them” opposed to the American “us”—to include political dissent, or the public calls from many Republicans to deport New York City mayor Zohran Mamdani and other supposed dissidents. This is bigotry, and importantly it serves a purpose, as the implicit violence maintaining the political discussion within particular confines.
In the past few weeks especially, we have seen a massive and consistent walking back of any form of anti-imperial policy by our social democrats. Plenty of examples come to mind: from Mamdani’s NYPD arresting people for protesting Netanyahu, rather than arresting Netanyahu himself for war crimes, to Abdul El-Sayed shaking hands with genocide accomplice Kamala Harris—or god forbid someone say the dirty words “armed resistance.” (Which the occupied have a right to under international law.) The blindspot is imperialism, and it always has been.
None of this is surprising. In fact, it’s not even really the social democrats’ fault (though this does not obviate their complicity). These politicians are accountable primarily to voters, and the voters are the American working class, just as the voters of Israeli politicians are the Israeli working class. Both are majority-settler classes (barring the oppressed nations within them, such as Native Americans and racial minorities in America and Palestinian citizens of Israel, whose positions are deserving of more attention, but who have also faced consistent disenfranchisement). The people on the receiving end of the empire’s violence don’t get a vote. If all Palestinians could vote in the Michigan senate race, it would not take moral fortitude for El-Sayed to outright condemn Harris for her role in the Biden administration’s crimes. It would be, as liberals are obsessed with saying, the “pragmatic” thing to do. And this simple fact is why the fundamental fear of fascists is that something analogous to this might ever happen. This is at least one reason why they fearmonger so much about Haitians or Somalis being able to vote: because one day, god forbid, the victims of American imperialism might have a say in that empire.
What, Then, is To Be Done?
Put simply, we have a choice: we can either continue bickering among ourselves over who exactly gets to profit off of imperialism, or we can ally ourselves with those projects actually oppositional to it. There are a lot of ways you could do this, but here are two starting points: Complicity in resistance, and de-escalating imperial violence.
To the first point: aiding and abetting real, effective resistance movements against American imperialism at home or abroad, and thus increasing the cost of imperialism and the consequences to the imperial system for its violence, can bring these questions closer together. Every time a colonial act of violence is met with resistance, be that physical, political, social, or economic, the interests of the colonizer and colonized come closer together.
For an example, consider the U.S. invasion of Vietnam. When the Viet Cong increased the human, economic, and political cost of America’s illegal war in their home, and the political left in the United States ramped up disruptive protest efforts against the war, the combined effect was enormous. Over time, the interests of the Vietnamese in Yanks going home, and those very Yanks in pulling their troops out and cutting their losses, aligned more closely, until it was in the overwhelming interest of everyone from ordinary soldiers to Richard Nixon himself to end the war.
Anything Israelis can do to create and enable internal dissent literally shifts the interests of Israelis as a whole closer to their oppressed class, and anything Americans can do to make sure America pays the cost of its imperialism has the same effect. Extrapolating this principle to resistance organizing and international solidarity gives us a roadmap for breaking the cycle.
The question of what constitutes a “good” Israeli has been circulating recently, especially with the release of NAZA, and whether anyone complicit in that genocide is redeemable is ultimately up to the Palestinians. For those attempting such a redemption, however, I have some practical suggestions: maintaining a protective presence in the West Bank to de-escalate colonial violence there, refraining from vocally condemning Palestinian resistance, and even reducing the settler population by moving out of Israel. Your presence is used to justify settler-colonial violence, and thus, if you are not actively undermining it, you are complicit and engaged in it. The bare minimum is not joining the IDF where one is able to avoid it. Historically this has meant activism like organizing draft dodgers, or putting together protective presence groups, though specific strategies change as violence escalates. A rule of thumb is that even the Zionist state properly recognizes your work as a threat, as we saw recently when it revoked two prospective settlers’ Aliyah applications due to their work in protective presence—yet another example of how one’s inclusion in this system is predicated upon one’s complicity in the violence necessary to maintain it.
Further, building solidarity with Palestinians in occupied territories and effectively supporting the limited Arab representation within Israel is at least one good starting place for those who feel they must stay within institutional politics. Building a rallying cry around Israeli identity will only lead to the same dynamic of offering reforms that reinforce the colonial project. The aim is to be a traitor to the system of extraction and supremacy, not to change that system to execute supremacy differently.
Support for Oppressed Nations At Home and Abroad
In the United States, the situation is slightly different, as many of those harmed by America live far outside its borders, making a trip to Iraq, Vietnam, or Korea difficult. (The notable exceptions being Cuba, where Americans can bring humanitarian aid from Florida relatively easily, and the internally occupied and oppressed peoples.) This physical separation acts as both a physical and ideological justification for breaking solidarity with those peoples. There are still actions we can take, however, to build solidarity with them and de-escalate violence against them.
To start, just as Israelis have Palestinians upon whom their society was built, America has its own occupied peoples, with many revolutionary and sovereignty movements advocating for Black sovereignty, Indigenous sovereignty, and Chicano sovereignty in all their various ideological forms. As a starting point, educating oneself on those struggles and the methods by which they call for solidarity and support is essential. The primary domestic call for white Americans, though this deserves a much longer treatment, is to shift from an “ally” to the oppressed nations, to an accomplice in their fight for liberation.
This is deeply interconnected with the foreign front, which is the primary focus of this article, as I’d argue it is necessary for the liberation of any occupied peoples within the American Empire for those imperial profits to cease flowing, as they directly fund systems of oppression domestically from prisons to ICE to the police.
This front is where we really shine; there are ways that we, and only we, can attack the empire from within that are not available to those outside the core. For example, U.S. troops are the only ones who can be deployed by the United States to oppress and kill people overseas, which also means they can refuse to do so. Only we can staff the CIA and FBI. This holds generally true for the military infrastructure as a whole, as well as ICE, police, contractors, and managers. By virtue of being in the imperial core, physically near those committing and funding this violence, we are given certain privileges and permissions that can, and, in my view, must be used to undermine the system. It is often said that capitalists will sell you the rope you hang them with; imperialists will give you the education, food, and privilege you use to sabotage them.
Once you recognize the real class position of many Americans as the managerial class of a global empire, our power to disrupt that empire’s recruitment and management becomes clearer. We can disrupt the social acceptance of joining the military, the intelligence agencies, or any of these imperial arms, provide systems for those already complicit to exit these flagrantly criminal bodies, and increase the social, political, and economic costs of joining them. Specific actions that come to mind include disrupting military recruitment in high schools, and providing mutual aid networks to disrupt the school-to-prison pipeline.
This can also take the form of direct actions, such as those against the weapons company Elbit Systems, where activists successfully shut down at least one plant that was sending weapons to Israel in 2025. These, paired with actions and organization by oppressed nations, provides a starting point: taking a hammer to the empire’s systems to align our interests with its victims as effectively as possible, as opposed to merely debating how the empire should operate by casting a vote in November.
I began with the righteous disgust that many of us feel when we hear pragmatic talk about appealing to allegedly “moderate” or “liberal” parties within Israel to mildly slow down their country’s violence. But for Americans, what I hope to do is take the disgust at the gross indulgence and self-obsession in the Israeli election, and turn this observation inward, and shift away from attempting to appeal to American interests in de-escalating American imperialism.
Rather, we must be oppositional rather than indulgently engaged in the ideology that centers the preferences and rhetoric of settlers and imperialists, whether in Israel or America. We should not spend our lives, time, and energy trying to shift support from one essentially imperial party to another one, confusing an election for an answer to a question it never asked. The task is not to moderate the system of imperial power, but to end it.
Will McCaffery is a leftist content creator focusing on anti-imperialism, anti-Zionism, and anti-capitalism, specifically responding to and deconstructing propaganda. He goes by willz.talks on YouTube, Instagram, and Substack.
