The Trouble with Comparison
I'm here at the Birmingham Institute for Civil Rights, surrounded by a powerful and well-curated depiction of the Civil Rights Movement, especially as it unfolded in this historic city. Walking through the exhibits and revisiting stories of segregation, Jim Crow, the bombings, the Ku Klux Klan, and the heroes who stood up against it all, one can’t help but draw compariosn to the current Israeli-Palestinian conflict.
Without knowing the history, it’s easy to draw parallels between the fight of Black Americans in the South and the Palestinians’ struggle. Both are stories of people oppressed by a system stacked against them—limited freedom of movement, scarce work opportunities, segregation from wealthier communities, and severe punishment when they resist. It’s understandable, on the surface, to look at one and assume it explains the other.
But unfortunately that’s not how truth works.
History and context matter. Trying to apply lessons from the Black American experience to the Palestinian one doesn’t work. The root causes aren’t entirely different, and to flatten them into a single story actually disrespects both. Black Americans were brought here as slaves and, despite being part of the country’s fabric, have had to fight for equality. The Palestinian situation, while painful in its own way, is shaped by a very different history—one with political and religious layers, territorial disputes, and many players who’s geo-political and financial motivations are against the well-being of the people.
I sympathize deeply with innocent Palestinians and I consider myself both pro-Israel and pro-Palestinian. But as I watch protesters describing Hamas as ‘resistance fighters’ I find the parallels both inaccurate and deeply offensive to my Jewish community and also to the American Black community.
Still, I get why people make the comparison. Discrimination looks similar on the outside, and human cruelty, unfortunately, has patterns. But the reasons behind it are different. Black Americans were up against a government that sanctioned segregation, a system designed to hold them back on their own soil. The Palestinian people are quite unfortunately caught in the middle of a conflict much larger than themselves, a conflict that has complex religious, historical, and international dimensions that make it its own unique tragedy and not exclusively the result of Israeli or ‘white’ cruelty. .
When we talk about violence, the comparison gets even more complicated. It’s easy to understand how oppressed people, Black Americans included, might feel justified in turning to violence when peaceful resistance feels like it’s getting them nowhere. The Civil Rights Movement largely chose nonviolence, but even if it hadn’t, we’d still understand where that anger came from. The Palestinian resistance, on the other hand, is coming from a religious fundamentalist movement, with stated genocidal aims and ultimate goals of regional dominance. While the average Palestinina desperately craves peace, the people who’ve been ‘elected’ to govern them do not have the same interest in mind. I’m sure an argument can be made that all governments face the same issues of being disconnected from the interests of their people. But at a certain point a line must be drawn and a distinction made between a civilized society with a government and a parliament, freedom of speech, a legal system, a penal system etc verses a society that is being run by a group of religious fundamentalists with no checks and balances to their power and actions.
To really compare these narratives, you’d have to rewrite history. Imagine Black Americans weren’t brought over as slaves but were once oppressors themselves, or that a foreign power in Africa was funding actual responsible for funding a violent insurgency here to the tune of billions of dollars. Imagine that instead of fighting for their freedom from slavery or for equal treatment and civil rights, that their resistance was driven by a strict religious ideology aiming not just for freedom but for complete control, with no intention of living peacefully alongside others. It’s absurd—and that’s why these comparisons don’t hold up.
It’s not just inaccurate to equate the two; it’s unfair. It flattens the rich, painful history of Black Americans and disrespects innocent Palestinians forced to live under oppressive systems in their own right. My fear, after visiting the South and relearning the details of the Civil Rights Movement, is that we’re in danger of losing perspective here. If we simplify these narratives in the name of justice, the truth becomes the first casualty. And that, historically, has never ended well for the Jewish community.
Ultimately, like with any path to justice, we need to confront the real issues blocking progress. Radical fundamentalists within Palestinian society, as well as extremist factions in Israel, are sabotaging the chances for peace. Peace will come only by removing these barriers and supporting a Palestinian government that prioritizes the well-being of its people. If we want Palestinians and Israelis to coexist peacefully, we need to make space for that—without erasing the distinct experiences of either side.