Back to my Roots

For over 76 years, the ongoing settler colonialism in Palestine has denied Palestinians their rights, whether they live in Palestine or the diaspora. Each time I attempt to make to myself a home, I am confronted with this stark reality. In other words, the struggle exists wherever a Palestinian does, and we must never lose sight of this truth. This is why I declare, through this article, that the Palestinian cause will always remain central to my work—games are simply the medium I have chosen. If all I had was a stick, then a stick would be my medium of choice.

The Palestinian Cause

It’s worth going into the specifics of what I mean when I say “the Palestinian cause.” To do that, we must first understand the enemy of the Palestinian people. The roots of this enemy lie in Europe, where a problem of pervasive Jew hatred—known in German as Judenhass and later renamed by Nazis to anti-Semitism— had taken hold. While the term “anti-Semitism” is widely used, I prefer not to adopt terminology coined by Nazis. For clarity, I will refer to this hatred simply as Judenhass or Jew hatred throughout this article.

Zionism was originally a Christian Evangelical project. Through many years of work an alliance was eventually forged between the Evangelical Christians and a few Anglo Jewish aristocrats. The British then attempted to solve their hatred of the Jewish people by exporting their Judenhass as a colonial project to the land of Palestine. This is explicitly shown in the Balfour declaration, penned by Arthur Balfour; a person with profound Judenhass. This idea to ethnically cleanse Europe of the Jews and ghettoize them in Palestine is known as Zionism. The history I’ve outlined here can be found in many of Ilan Pape’s works on the subject but for a quick read to prove my statements you can read the article he did for the Palestine Chronicle here. This ghettoization has a lot of moving parts, chief among them though is the colonization of the land. This might take many forms, but however you slice it, it’s predicated on the violent extermination of my people in order for the Zionists to build this new European civilization both in Europe and in Palestine.

An ideology rooted in the destruction of the Palestinian people is, obviously, the enemy of the Palestinian cause. While identifying the enemy is essential, a cause also requires a strategy to fight said enemy. After years of struggle and experimentation, Palestinians have realized that the solution lies in something fundamental: unity. This concept, often referred to as “unity of the fields,” asserts that any tool capable of dismantling Zionism is a valid one. If all a person has is a stick, then that stick becomes their tool of resistance. Other tools, of course, may be more effective or suited to particular contexts, and it is critical to recognize and prioritize the best tools for each field of struggle.

The second aspect of unity is the unity of the people. One day, apartheid in Palestine will fall, and for true liberation to take root, all its people—Muslim, Christian, Jewish, or Druze—must be able to live dignified and just lives. This vision of unity is only achievable through justice, which must remain a primary guiding principle. However, the broader discussion of justice is beyond the scope of this article.

In conclusion, the Palestinian cause is fundamentally straightforward. The enemy is Zionism—a destructive ideology that aims to isolate and ghettoize the Jewish people by colonizing the land of Palestine. The solution lies in unity: unity of the fields to dismantle Zionism and unity of the people to ensure a future where all can live with dignity and justice.

Why care?

The history of Zionism has resulted in a vast Palestinian diaspora, of which I am a part. Some might question why I care so deeply: “Jibreel, you live in Canada. How does this affect you? Why not just keep your head down, get a good job, and forget about Palestine?” This suggestion is ludicrous on the face of it—after all, I have family in Palestine whom I care about deeply. But beyond that, the statement is fundamentally flawed. Zionism is not merely a force that robbed me of my rights in the past; it is an ideology that continues to strip me of my rights, regardless of where I live.

In 2005, my family moved to Lebanon. By 2006, my mom had just secured a good job, my Arabic was improving, and we were beginning to rebuild our lives. Then, everything changed when the fire nation attacked. At just seven years old, I was packed onto a plane to Canada alone because Zionists decided it was time to expand the ghetto once again. Lebanon was invaded yet again by Zionist forces. My mom and I should have had the right to live a dignified life in Lebanon back then, just as her father before her should have had the right to live a dignified life in Yaffa, Palestine, before that.

The Zionist project relies on creating and maintaining systemic inequalities to sustain its colonial framework. To convince Jewish people in Palestine that their ghetto is not a ghetto, they are granted privileges far above the native Palestinian population. Only the Jewish natives in Palestine were afforded the opportunity to assimilate into this European Jewish upper class. Meanwhile, Muslim, Christian, and Druze Palestinians who remained in the territories occupied in 1948 were—and continue to be—excluded, facing discriminatory laws that restrict their freedoms. This denial of rights is not limited to Palestinians within occupied territories; it extends to the diaspora, even outside the Arab world.

The stronghold of Zionism lies outside Palestine, particularly on Turtle Island, where the American state funnels weapons into the hands of settlers. This far-reaching apartheid system denies Palestinians in the diaspora the ability to exercise even symbolic acts of dignity. For instance, in early 2024, the Palestinian community in Niagara requested that the Niagara sign be illuminated in Pan-Arab colours to show solidarity with those being massacred and starved in Palestine. This simple request was denied.

For this multilayered apartheid system to function, the rights of Palestinians everywhere must be stolen. This reality makes it impossible to separate our individual dignity from the collective rights of our people. Our stolen freedoms are a constant reminder that the struggle for justice and equality is not confined to Palestine—it exists wherever Palestinians do.

Why Games?

My first real introduction to video games came in 2005 when my aunt gave me her old Game Boy Walkman after we moved to Lebanon. That Game Boy not only helped me through tough times but also—funnily enough—taught me how to read. While the primary axis of the Palestinian cause is armed struggle (a duty recognized by the UN), my role is one of cultural support infrastructure. The true heroes are those living under occupation, writing a story of resilience and heroism, often with their own blood, every single day.

Basil Al-Araj once wrote, “Just as the Zionist journalist is a fighter, so are you.” By that same logic, just as Neil Druckmann is a soldier in the cultural arena, so am I. It’s a remarkably isolating battlefield. There isn’t a single games program in Palestine—except for one in occupied Yaffa, which most Palestinians cannot access due to apartheid.

When I worked at Tesla in the American State, I was part of the support engineering team—a role that reflects my broader philosophy. Even my name, Jibreel, carries the legacy of the angel Gabriel, who served as a messenger and supporter to the Prophet (PBUH). While I can never truly aspire to live up to the name of an angel, I strive to embody their spirit. As an anti-colonial games scholar, my role is to create space for those fighting colonialism and to use games as a platform for the anti-colonial struggle.

My grandmother, may Allah (SWT) have mercy on her soul, was a proud Gazan and an educator. I pray that I can honour her legacy by contributing to the development of games education in Gaza once this genocidal war comes to an end.