Today we revisit a moment in history when Israel claimed to be the victim of an attack by its neighbors, blaming them for daring to free their own occupied land in the Golan Heights of Syria and the Sinai Peninsula of Egypt. The October War, known in the West as the Yom Kippur War, was not a sudden act of aggression. It was a coordinated attempt by Arab nations to reclaim territories taken in 1967, territories recognized by the world as occupied. Egypt crossed the Suez Canal to retake Sinai. Syria launched a massive offensive to recover the Golan Heights. For the Arab world, this was not an invasion. It was self defense. It was liberation. It was the restoration of land that had been seized and held under military rule. Yet even in this context, Israel presented itself as the victim. It framed the war as an unprovoked attack timed to exploit a religious holiday. It shaped the narrative so that the world saw only surprise and danger, not occupation and resistance. This pattern did not begin in 1973. It stretches back decades into the very foundations of the conflict. In 1946, long before Israel became a state, the King David Hotel in Jerusalem was bombed by the Irgun paramilitary organization. The explosion killed ninety one people. British officials, staff, civilians, Jews, Palestinians. The dead were not soldiers. They were administrators, clerks, hotel workers, and visitors. It was one of the deadliest attacks of the British Mandate period. Yet over time, the event was reframed, softened, justified, or buried beneath a larger narrative of victimhood. Two decades later, in 1967, the USS Liberty, an American Navy intelligence ship, was attacked in international waters. Israeli aircraft and torpedo boats struck the vessel repeatedly. Rockets, machine gun fire, napalm. When the assault ended, thirty four American sailors were dead and one hundred seventy one were wounded. The United States never received a clear explanation. Families never received closure. And the world moved on, as if the deaths of American servicemen were a footnote rather than a tragedy. These events reveal a pattern in how wars involving Israel have been remembered. A pattern where the state presents itself as the perpetual victim, even in moments when its own actions caused devastation. A pattern where history is edited, where context is removed, where occupation is erased, and where retaliation is portrayed as aggression. A pattern where the suffering of others is overshadowed by a narrative crafted for political survival. Today, we revisit these moments not to inflame hatred and not to generalize about any people. We revisit them to understand how states shape memory, how governments rewrite history, and how narratives become shields that protect power. Because the wars with Israel cannot be understood through slogans or headlines. They must be understood through the events that were forgotten, the stories that were buried, and the truths that were never allowed to surface. If you have thoughts, I want to hear them. Email me at TWIPpodcasts@gmail.com and tell me how you see it. This is This Week in Palestine.
Truth and Justice Radio, WZBC 90.3 FM - Boston College
01:23:06
1
Sept. 11, 2026
Boston, MA. Newton, MA. Byron Bay, New South Wales, and elsewhere.
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