(311) Independent Best of 2023

Disciples!!Here it is – if you missed it on our Patreon site – the BEST OF 2023 of the Independent Artists submissions! 40 hand-picked songs from artists that rose to the top of nearly 900 submissions for 2023. Don’t forget to head to the website for the playlist (or check the notes in your podcast app) OR check your app if it supports ‘chapters’ to connect directly to the artists via your app.…

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FELLAHIN FALL Release Goth Metal Beast "Urbana" EP, New Video for "Grey Morning" Out Now

Brooklyn goth metal band, FELLAHIN FALL, have taken the global stage with their brooding new EP, “Urbana,” out today! Melding elements of gothic metal and darkwave, the quintet has carved out an ominous sound that’s heavy, incredibly memorable and deeply affecting, recalling legends like Type O Negative and Paradise Lost across 4 songs, including previously released singles “The Parting” and…

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Let me tell you about winds.

"There is a whirlwind in southern Morocco, the aajej, against which the fellahin defend themselves with knives. There is the africo, which has at times reached into the city of Rome. The alm, a fall wind out of Yugoslavia. The arifi, also christened aref or rifi, which scorches with numerous tongues. These are permanent winds that live in the present tense. There are other, less constant winds that change direction, that can knock down horse and rider and realign themselves anticlockwise. The bist roz leaps into Afghanistan for 170 days--burying villages. There is the hot, dry ghibli from Tunis, which rolls and rolls and produces a nervous condition. The haboob--a Sudan dust storm that dresses in bright yellow walls a thousand metres high and is followed by rain. The harmattan, which blows and eventually drowns itself into the Atlantic. Imbat, a sea breeze in North Africa. Some winds that just sigh towards the sky. Night dust storms that come with the cold. The khamsin, a dust in Egypt from March to May, named after the Arabic word for 'fifty,' blooming for fifty days--the ninth plague of Egypt. The datoo out of Gibraltar, which carries fragrance. There is also the ------, the secret wind of the desert, whose name was erased by a king after his son died within it. And the nafhat--a blast out of Arabia. The mezzar-ifoullousen--a violent and cold southwesterly known to Berbers as 'that which plucks the fowls.' The beshabar, a black and dry northeasterly out of the Caucasus, 'black wind.' The Samiel from Turkey, 'poison and wind,' used often in battle. As well as the other 'poison winds,' the simoom, of North Africa, and the solano, whose dust plucks off rare petals, causing giddiness. Other, private winds. Travelling along the ground like a flood. Blasting off paint, throwing down telephone poles, transporting stones and statue heads. The harmattan blows across the Sahara filled with red dust, dust as fire, as flour, entering and coagulating in the locks of rifles. Mariners called this red wind the 'sea of darkness.' Red sand fogs out of the Sahara were deposited as far north as Cornwall and Devon, producing showers of mud so great this was also mistaken for blood. 'Blood rains were widely reported in Portugal and Spain in 1901.' There are always millions of tons of dust in the air, just as there are millions of cubes of air in the earth and more living flesh in the soil (worms, beetles, underground creatures) than there is grazing and existing on it. Herodotus records the death of various armies engulfed in the simoom who were never seen again. One nation was 'so enraged by this evil wind that they declared war on it and marched out in full battle array, only to be rapidly and completely interred."

- The English Patient, Michael Ondaatje

Youre getting a little close to saying Jews control the media with all their money

you're getting a little too close aggravating me also i have critical thinking skills so no thanks i'm alright without you deciding what my words mean for me. i think you can support religious freedom without supporting genocidal regimes in the name of claiming space.

anyway the us and uk fund white supremacy in israel and it is in the interest of white supremacists to commit genocide on minorities. the united states is israel's financial lifeline today and biggest source of international political support.

the us has given 3-4 billion usd in military aid to israel every year for the past decade.

in the 1930s, the quest to form Israel was well under the foot of the british, and then later united states-- until it had the military power to stand on 'it's own', a feat still impossible without the support of it's authoritative allies. it then declared independence and immediately went to war with Palestine's people attempting to take their land back from british/us backed militant settlers.

the british eventually "lightened" it's control to watch the force of creating israel from the sidelines, but not initially.

"The British 1939 White paper stipulated that Jewish immigration to Palestine was to be limited to 15,000 a year for the first five years, and would subsequently be contingent on Arab consent. Restrictions were also placed on the rights of Jews to buy land from Arabs. After this Ben-Gurion changed his policy towards the British, stating: "Peace in Palestine is not the best situation for thwarting the policy of the White Paper".[80] Ben-Gurion believed a peaceful solution with the Arabs had no chance and soon began preparing the Yishuv for war." his success in this endeavor later brought victory to Zionism

it's almost as if overwhelming someone's home land and trying to buy their houses off them doesn't typically go that well for anyone. and it was the british that ALLOWED them to go there.

because the british weren't letting more than 15,000 (still, a LOT of people) a year escape to palestine, this guy ben-gurion eventually formed an army to rebel against the british and sneak people past the border anyway, defying the order, although later encouraged jewish people to support the british army and volunteer in more military efforts.

but the speed at which people began occupying the land-- trying to buy land from people who didn't want to sell their land-- palestine began to deny consent. [arguably questionable if there ever was real consent to begin with] this led to it being taken by force.

Israel could not exist without the british military's interests in white supremecy. here's an image from 1936. even if they dissented due to the rate they wanted to enter palestine vs the rate they were allowed by the british, the british were enabling this to begin with.

"world war 1 left palestine, especially the countryside, deeply impoverished.[31] The Ottoman and then the Mandate authorities levied high taxes on farming and agricultural produce and during the 1920s and 1930s this together with a fall in prices, cheap imports, natural disasters and paltry harvests all contributed to the increasing indebtedness of the fellahin.[32] The rents paid by tenant fellah [palestine's farmers] increased sharply, owing to increased population density [of settlers], and growing [nonconsentual] transfer of land from Arabs to the Jewish settlement agencies, such as the Jewish National Fund, increased the number of fellahin evicted while also removing the land as a future source of livelihood.[3] "

"The Shaw Commission in 1930 had identified the existence of a class of 'embittered landless people' as a contributory factor to the preceding 1929 disturbances,[35]" palestine's people grew incredibly disenfranchised and unhoused at an alarming rate after 1931, "causing High Commissioner Wauchope to warn that this 'social peril ... would serve as a focus of discontent and might even result in serious disorders.'[35] David Ben-Gurion told mourners at a funeral held on 20 April 1936 for nine victims of rioting in Jaffa the previous day that Jews would only be safe "in communities which are 100% Jewish and built on Jewish land."[36][37]"

while affirming that, while they're occupying this land, while palestine's people are already being forced out of their homes and retaliating against occupational settlers, because they didn't want to sell their homes, that the """only way""" the settlers could live at peace is by committing ethnic cleansing of the land. it is layers upon layers of white supremacist colonialist ideals becoming propaganda fodder to rally civilians against fellow human beings in the fight over this earth. using the mourning and loss of life to entice violence and anger into action for corrupt causes.

"Economic factors played a major role in the outbreak of the Arab revolt.[14] Palestine's fellahin, the country's peasant farmers, made up over two-thirds of the indigenous Arab population and from the 1920s onwards they were pushed off the land in increasingly large numbers into urban environments where they often encountered only poverty and social marginalisation.[14] Many were crowded into shanty towns in Jaffa and Haifa where some found succour and encouragement in the teachings of the charismatic preacher Izz ad-Din al-Qassam who worked among the poor in Haifa.[14] The revolt was thus a popular uprising that produced its own leaders and developed into a national revolt.[14]"

ERAMNESIA SynthMetal Duo Goes Deeper and Darker With Brooding and Sexy Second Single “Entropy”

Eramnesia – Entropy (Official Lyric Video) – YouTube Guitarist Patrick Reilly (Tengger Cavalry, Fellahin Fall) and vocalist Aimee Zambrana (formerly Van Roxanne) joined forces in 2022 to form Eramnesia. Their first single, ‘Alone Under Neon Lights,’ was met with positive reception upon its’ release in January 2023, and listeners have been enthusiastically anticipating their next single ever…

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Let me tell you about winds. There is a whirlwind in southern Morocco, the aajej, against which the fellahin defend themselves with knives. There is the africo, which has at times reached into the city of Rome. The alm, a fall wind out of Yugoslavia. The arifi, also christened aref or rifi, which scorches with numerous tongues. These are permanent winds that live in the present tense. There are other, less constant winds that change direction, that can knock down horse and rider and realign themselves anticlockwise. The bist roz leaps into Afghanistan for 170 days--burying villages. There is the hot, dry ghibli from Tunis, which rolls and rolls and produces a nervous condition. The haboob--a Sudan dust storm that dresses in bright yellow walls a thousand metres high and is followed by rain. The harmattan, which blows and eventually drowns itself into the Atlantic. Imbat, a sea breeze in North Africa. Some winds that just sigh towards the sky. Night dust storms that come with the cold . . . There is also the ------, the secret wind of the desert, whose name was erased by a king after his son died within it . . . Other, private winds. Michael Ondaatje, The English Patient

“There is a whirlwind in southern Morocco, the aajej, against which the fellahin defend themselves with knives. There is the africo, which has at times reached into the city of Rome. The alm, a fall wind out of Yugoslavia. The arifi, also christened aref or rifi, which scorches with numerous tongues. These are permanent winds that live in the present tense. There are other, less constant winds that change direction, that can knock down horse and rider and realign themselves anticlockwise. The bist roz leaps into Afghanistan for 170 days–burying villages. There is the hot, dry ghibli from Tunis, which rolls and rolls and produces a nervous condition. The haboob–a Sudan dust storm that dresses in bright yellow walls a thousand metres high and is followed by rain. The harmattan, which blows and eventually drowns itself into the Atlantic. Imbat, a sea breeze in North Africa. Some winds that just sigh towards the sky. Night dust storms that come with the cold. The khamsin, a dust in Egypt from March to May, named after the Arabic word for ‘fifty,’ blooming for fifty days–the ninth plague of Egypt. The datoo out of Gibraltar, which carries fragrance. There is also the secret wind of the desert, whose name was erased by a king after his son died within it. And the nafhat–a blast out of Arabia. The mezzar-ifoullousen–a violent and cold southwesterly known to Berbers as 'that which plucks the fowls.’ The beshabar, a black and dry northeasterly out of the Caucasus, 'black wind.’ The Samiel from Turkey, 'poison and wind,’ used often in battle. As well as the other 'poison winds,’ the simoom, of North Africa, and the solano, whose dust plucks off rare petals, causing giddiness. Other, private winds. Travelling along the ground like a flood. Blasting off paint, throwing down telephone poles, transporting stones and statue heads. The harmattan blows across the Sahara filled with red dust, dust as fire, as flour, entering and coagulating in the locks of rifles. Mariners called this red wind the 'sea of darkness.’ Red sand fogs out of the Sahara were deposited as far north as Cornwall and Devon, producing showers of mud so great this was also mistaken for blood. 'Blood rains were widely reported in Portugal and Spain in 1901.’ There are always millions of tons of dust in the air, just as there are millions of cubes of air in the earth and more living flesh in the soil (worms, beetles, underground creatures) than there is grazing and existing on it. Herodotus records the death of various armies engulfed in the simoom who were never seen again. One nation was 'so enraged by this evil wind that they declared war on it and marched out in full battle array, only to be rapidly and completely interred.”

— Michael Ondaatje

—What are you doing, father?

—I’m searching for my heart, which fell away that night.

—Do you think you’ll find it here?

—Where else am I going to nd it? I bend to the ground and pick it up piece by piece just as the women of the fellahin pick up olives in October, one olive at a time.

—But you’re picking up pebbles!

—Doing that is a good exercise for memory and perception. Who knows? Maybe these pebbles are petrified pieces of my heart.

Mahmoud Darwish

“The Moon Did Not Fall Into the Well,” from  Journal of an Ordinary Grief, tr. Ibrahim Muhawi

Let me tell you about winds

"There is a whirlwind in southern Morocco, the aajej, against which the fellahin defend themselves with knives. There is the africo, which has at times reached into the city of Rome. The alm, a fall wind out of Yugoslavia. The arifi, also christened aref or rifi, which scorches with numerous tongues. These are permanent winds that live in the present tense. There are other, less constant winds that change direction, that can knock down horse and rider and realign themselves anticlockwise. The bist roz leaps into Afghanistan for 170 days--burying villages. There is the hot, dry ghibli from Tunis, which rolls and rolls and produces a nervous condition. The haboob--a Sudan dust storm that dresses in bright yellow walls a thousand metres high and is followed by rain. The harmattan, which blows and eventually drowns itself into the Atlantic. Imbat, a sea breeze in North Africa. Some winds that just sigh towards the sky. Night dust storms that come with the cold. The khamsin, a dust in Egypt from March to May, named after the Arabic word for 'fifty,' blooming for fifty days--the ninth plague of Egypt. The datoo out of Gibraltar, which carries fragrance. There is also the ------, the secret wind of the desert, whose name was erased by a king after his son died within it. And the nafhat--a blast out of Arabia. The mezzar-ifoullousen--a violent and cold southwesterly known to Berbers as 'that which plucks the fowls.' The beshabar, a black and dry northeasterly out of the Caucasus, 'black wind.' The Samiel from Turkey, 'poison and wind,' used often in battle. As well as the other 'poison winds,' the simoom, of North Africa, and the solano, whose dust plucks off rare petals, causing giddiness. Other, private winds. Travelling along the ground like a flood. Blasting off paint, throwing down telephone poles, transporting stones and statue heads. The harmattan blows across the Sahara filled with red dust, dust as fire, as flour, entering and coagulating in the locks of rifles. Mariners called this red wind the 'sea of darkness.' Red sand fogs out of the Sahara were deposited as far north as Cornwall and Devon, producing showers of mud so great this was also mistaken for blood. 'Blood rains were widely reported in Portugal and Spain in 1901.' There are always millions of tons of dust in the air, just as there are millions of cubes of air in the earth and more living flesh in the soil (worms, beetles, underground creatures) than there is grazing and existing on it. Herodotus records the death of various armies engulfed in the simoom who were never seen again. One nation was 'so enraged by this evil wind that they declared war on it and marched out in full battle array, only to be rapidly and completely interred."

(296) Independent Music Special Volume 21

Disciples!!Hot damn – we’re almost to the end of 2023, but we’re not done rockin’! Here you go – Volume 21 – Part One of the November releases from Independent Artists from all over the world!You know what to do – Turn it up, and tune out the BS!– G BLOCK ONE The Answer (Ireland) https://www.theanswerrock.com/ Wild Heart [single] The Manikins (USA) https://themanikinsofficial.bandcamp.com/ Too…

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FELLAHIN FALL Announce New EP "Urbana", Out November 17th

Brooklyn’s lauded gothic metal quintet, FELLAHIN FALL, has announced plans to release their awaited next record, “Urbana,” on November 17th. The EP, mixed and mastered by Kevin Antreassian (The Dillinger Escape Plan), is a doom laden, gothic masterpiece that recalls legends like Type O Negative and Paradise Lost.  Recently the band released the record’s first single, “Bury Me,” which is…

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I have been extremely eager to share this project with everyone. In less than 12 hours I will finally be able to! Guys, you know I don't involve myself in bad music 😉 #patthepanther #Repost @fellahinfall • • • • • • Dark, Gothic, Industrial Metal Fellahin Fall Our debut single "Of Fallen Words" drops in less than 12 hours 🦇 #typonegative #fellahinfall #gothgirl #gothic #goth #metal #industrialmetal #atmosphere #guitar #guitarsolo #guitarist (at Glen Cove, New York) https://www.instagram.com/p/B3cb_4Pndbm/?igshid=1q882z3pkzqpx

Glory! 2

Ending up here again I wonder, why is there never any light? By light I don’t just mean brightness, I mean color, levity, Sun… Where are you, you beautiful hot-blooded creature? Why do you run from me? I won’t turn my back again, I promise… Tenderly eased into a state of approximated pleasure,I’m nearly carried away somewhere fantastic when that one-legged preacher starts his maniac call sending shivers through my blood-packed eardrum… “Oh, but don’t you see how they’re wasted! And they’ve tasted the sweet vagrant sin… The fragrance of entropy bleeds from their skin as it touches other warm bacteria-riddled skin! And how my bile riiiises soon as they set about it… Never forget: the most pious man’s the one who claims to have forgotten all about it... Animals needn’t be animals! Beasts, cast your burden off! And kneel down before you eat, before you sleep, before you leave this temple you walk in, the hair and the skin are all nails in your coffin, tell me, must we return there again and again to remind yourself how dreadful the whole cursed cycle truly is?”

Feeling cued, I stand, not sure whether I can walk, but goddamn it, it’s gotta be an easier death on those sand dunes the next block over… I’ll fall on the trunk of a cab, hook my fingers into its wheel wells and hang on to get gone… But as I stand and my head dips down, long gobs of half-clotted blood oozing from perforated skull, I get the woozies and trip those three deadly feet from curb to the middle of the street and I hear a screeching of tires on pavement and curl to protect my already shotgunned head and I’m gone to that sandy shore, that mythopoeic desert surrounded by a million others who tried to fail so completely that they were honored as true pioneers… Bloody swamps made by dead fellahin in deserts collecting their prizes for dying in the heat of gunpowder and fury. The hour struck zero and they all braced themselves for the bitter memorial homage to their Great Omnipotent Delusion…

Curtain rises, protagonist slips on stage, no merchant peddler wiser than tourist mark – snapshot lens glare a wide dusty American grin – Even he isn’t sure if he’s acting or being acted – Green fatigues eye each hunched extra with gated suspicion – A finger twitches, nearly setting off a thick wave of gunfire – Everyone breathes a heavy sigh – muscles relax – A vengeful hallelujah, a bright flare, a second burning Sun, an eruption of visceral smoke and red dust of the lurid town snows all around…

Or it’s red ambulance lights, a curse driven into my ribs. Jerry’s still yelling… But it’s not his voice anymore. It’s Kalday Suglaj, that god-healer in rags… It’s the cloying rhythmic cadence of the street-evangelist, but it’s a ragged pagan voice drilling them directly into that eighth hole in my head…

“Two-thousand years come and gone, and just how many more before the dawn’s shot down from its seat in the sky and laid sacrificially upon the ground feeding buzzards all tradition-bound?… Tradition bound us to the fabled lives of men who’ll never again walk the earth, as if they ever truly did, and weren’t just legends, deified by mouths hungry for heroes – A plague, a god, a fraud, just who are we kidding? Leave it up to the merry men, those denizens of disgrace! Every one of them’ll sell you a book for your soul, all the while impaling you on their devoutly righteous pole. They all take to survive, but greed makes survival so much more palatable. So every time, mark my words, my friends, ev-e-ry time, they’ll steal more flesh than the pound they tell both you and themselves they need as they take a dull butter knife to your love-handles!

Let me tell you ‘bout a man… a man I met recently who lived through the horrors. He is a hero, and yet no one would listen to a word that came out his mouth… I listened, I listened and I’m here to tell you all of his harrowing account… Lie yourself down on a street at night...”

I’m there, waiting as the red lights close in, the siren deafening… I push my good ear to the pavement to drown out the noise…

“Somewhere in the uncharted boondocks lit up by the full Moon and pickup headlights… Around him the gravel shatters and then shatters and then shatters into pieces of pieces of pieces while dark blood splatters steel-toes and asphalt meteors gouge his cheeks, scratch his eyeballs. Heavy links of chain yank tight round his neck bruised purple black, grated and fired by stone rockets and torn apart on streets on the outskirts of right fuckin’ here.”

I hear the loud squeals as ambulance doors open and a collapsible stretcher unfolds its wheels with a clang... There are hands on my body turning me right side up, but I refuse to respond.

“His wrists, impotent, roped together grinding spine since he was kidnapped and shackled like four hundred years refused to pass after one night stepping out of a bar with no words to drunken strangers who were looking for a scapegoat on which to vent their ancestor’s frustration…”

“Pack his head…”

“Support his neck… don’t lift him yet…”

I feel the rough hemp digging into bony wrists… I’m rolled onto the low stretcher, lifted, strapped, thick velcro gripping my arms and chest, legs and ankles, and I’m yelling at them, “Just get me to the next street! Get me to the dunes, man! Get me to the dunes!” But they don’t seem like they can hear me.

They keep shining a light into my eyes and that’s okay, I’m feeling warmer already…

Face of a young Tibetan boy looks down on me. He’s scratching “Liberate Tibet” on a mud wall… Before he can finish, he’s swarmed by drab military uniforms dragging him to a brutal tortured death… This is the land that Mercy forgot…

I feel the burn of my face peeling off grinding against the raging asphalt…

He dies nameless and noble…

Who am I to receive their misguided anger? Am I representative for any in-group? I’ve always been the meekest of outsiders…

Ghosts are gathering in the streets… pale generations clinging to each other’s waists… They all know what’s coming, but no one dares say it aloud… As the truck doors slam shut and Chinese guns flood the thin markets and alleyways… Cell doors shriek embracing robed prisoners, raped and cut…

Sirens wail from the scene but words, manic words, Jerry’s words, still bounce inside the confined little cell, wires and tubes across my face…

“…Reverently they severed that black devil man with the cane in his grip from the white woman at his hip – They did this to him so they did this to me! Tell me it didn’t happen! You know it did! Those dreary soldiers rushing, marching, folding their hands at their hearts… set on getting back the nothing they once were so quick to dismiss! Well they can dismiss us and while they’re at it, they can kiss us a fine ‘fuck you too’ as we pray to be freed from their blessed tyranny – The prince in his finery was shameless. Now we are stones laid before his merciless feet. We threw mud into their faces, on their uniforms, across their eyes and hair, but ended up wearing their mark on our bare chests... You know, I will change what I hate but it will not change me… And I may hate what I change but it will never change me… I will say it a-gain. Say it with me! I will change what I hate but it will not change me… And though I will hate what I change, it will never change me…”

 If I could talk, I’d love to tell him how wrong he is… that we must grow and be flexible, that hate versus hate never succeeds… I can’t even pretend he’d be able to listen… Words never matter to someone who’s caught in his own perpetual rut, so full of righteous fury he thinks he can alter a course of events he himself helped to instigate… Prejudicial anger has an inertia that’ll steamroll even the most skillful and best-intentioned humanitarians. And what use are these thoughts speeding at seventy miles an hour away from the very man I wanted to meet? And what would he know with the likes of a case, and like that, I remember the scaly tote… I yell at the medics, “Give it to me! It can’t fall in the wrong hands. Are my hands the wrong hands? Whose hands are yours?  Bring me back! I must speak with him!”

But they make like they don’t understand. Those sly bastards. They know the sides we’re on. I will get away, though, I will get away… I vow without a breath. And the strange thing is, in this careening ambulance taking me not to a hospital but to an underground blacksite prison, for a moment I really believe it’s possible…

In memory of the Nakba, its important to remember that israels "conflict" with Palestinians is not an ancient one.

To make it simple, it started with the founder of modern zionism, Theodor Herzl. His plan to establish a Jewish haven in the late 1800s created the zionism movement that sought to rid Palestine of its indigenous population to form a Jewish state because as he saw it:

"Palestine is our ever-memorable historic home. The very name of Palestine would attract our people with a force of marvelous potency. If His Majesty the Sultan were to give us Palestine, we could in return undertake to regulate the whole finances of Turkey. We should there form a portion of a rampart of Europe against Asia, an outpost of civilization as opposed to barbarism."

Not convinced that Zionism is not a white supremacist colonialist ideology well in his work titled "The Jewish State" literally under the section titled "The OCCUPATION of the land" describes in detail how theyll colonize the land which you can read yourself or heres the plan adopted by the First Zionist Congress in the 1890s:

Now lets talk about how they carried out step 1 and step 4 (to simplify step 2 and 3 were the zionists goals to make the jewish identity and zionist identiy synonymous with each other or in simpler terms making a national identity. i can explain it but this is already going to be sooo long and im trying not to but please read it):

Even though the Ottoman empire, before its fall in WWI, decreed that no "foreign jew" was allowed to purchase land in Palestine, organizations such as the Palestine Jewish Colonization Association and and the Jewish National Fund begin to purchase large swathes of land. More than half of the land owned by Jewish families and companies were owned by the PJCA and the JNF by the end of the British Mandate of Palestine. In 1936 the Peel Commission appointed by the British government attempted to slow down the purchase of land to ease fear of riots and protests between the minority Jewish immigrant population and the native Palestinians. However, it was too late as Jewish immigrants already owned much of the coastal land and planned to own more

Although your history textbook prefers the narrative that the support of a jewish state, Israel, was a result of wanting to compensate the Jewish people after WWII the reality is much darker. Zionists knew they needed money and support to take Palestine because they were only at most 1 percent of the Palestinian population. Many governments, anti semitic ones, supported the national or Zionist movement for a Jewish homeland because it would solve their "Jewish Question." Do we give our Jewish residents rights or do we force them out? was a "pressing" European concern in the 19th and 20th century. Thats how we get the Balfour Declaration in 1917 which was a statement in support of the establishment of a "national home for the Jewish people" in Palestine despite Britain's promise to Palestinians that theyll retain sovereignty someday as well. This also explains why Soviet Russia reversed their anti zionist policy and supported Jewish efforts to colonize Palestine and even sending weapons to Jewish colonists. Supporting zionism meant Jewish support of Russia in WWII (they again later reversed their statement which goes to show that Stalin was just a huge anti semitic genocidal dick and i refuse to see him as pro Palestine)

This is how zionists colonized Palestine. It wasnt the result of one "war" in 1948 it was the result of a few decades of slowly gaining support from great powers (US, Britain, etc) and taking advantage of the fact that Palestinians or the Fellahin (peasants) didnt have physical contracts to the land which meant in the Western sense that they didnt own the land and therefore had no connection to the land or a national identity. Western concepts of identity (Nationalism) and colonialism were the tools of the Zionists thats it. Its not complicated it never was

There is a whirlwind in southern Morocco, the aajej, against which the fellahin defend themselves with knives. There is the africo, which has at times reached into the city of Rome. The aim, a fall wind out of Yugoslavia. The arifi, also christened aref or rifi, which scorches with numerous tongues. These are permanent winds that live in the present tense. There are other, less constant winds that change direction, that can knock down horse and rider and realign themselves anticlockwise. The bist roz leaps into Afghanistan for 170 days – burying villages. There is the hot, dry ghibli from Tunis, which rolls and rolls and produces a nervous condition. The haboob – a Sudan dust storm that dresses in bright yellow walls a thousand metres high and is followed by rain. The harmattan, which blows and eventually drowns itself into the Atlantic. Imbat, a sea breeze in North Africa. Some winds that just sigh towards the sky. Night dust storms that come with the cold. The khamsin, a dust in Egypt from March to May, named after the Arabic word for ‘fifty,’ blooming for fifty days – the ninth plague of Egypt. The datoo out of Gibraltar, which carries fragrance. There is also the –, the secret wind of the desert, whose name was erased by a king after his son died within it. And the nafhat – a blast out of Arabia. The mezzarifoullousen – a violent and cold southwesterly known to Berbers as ‘that which plucks the fowls.’ The beshabar, a black and dry northeasterly out of the Caucasus, ‘black wind.’ The Samiel from Turkey, ‘poison and wind,’ used often in battle. As well as the other ‘poison winds,’ the simoom, of North Africa, and the solano, whose dust plucks off rare petals, causing giddiness. Other, private winds. Travelling along the ground like a flood. Blasting off paint, throwing down telephone poles, transporting stones and statue heads. The harmattan blows across the Sahara filled with red dust, dust as fire, as flour, entering and coagulating in the locks of rifles. Mariners called this red wind the ‘sea of darkness.’ Red sand fogs out of the Sahara were deposited as far north as Cornwall and Devon, producing showers of mud so great this was also mistaken for blood. ‘Blood rains were widely reported in Portugal and Spain in 1901. There are always millions of tons of dust in the air, just as there are millions of cubes of air in the earth and more living flesh in the soil (worms, beetles, underground creatures) than there is grazing and existing on it. Herodotus records the death of various armies engulfed in the simoom who were never seen again.

Michael Ondaatje, The English Patient