This chapter examines a group of anticolonial and anti-imperialist intellectuals of different political persuasions thinking on Palestinian anticolonial national liberation at key moments in Palestinian history. It argues that central to these thinkers in their analysis of Palestine is a collapse in distinction between 1948- and 1967-occupied Palestine in Zionist settler-colonial ambitions in Palestine; the umbilical relationship between Zionism and US–Euro imperialism; as well as the centrality of Arab ruling classes to Zionist hegemony in Palestine.

A central feature of the international legal system is that States are the predominant actors within the system and possess international legal personality. States are able to enter into legal relations with each other by way of treaties, possess certain international legal rights as bestowed under international law, and are capable of enforcing those legal rights in international litigation or of being the subject of a claim if they are derelict in meeting their international legal obligations. This raises two important issues. First, how are 'States' characterised and recognised under international law? Second, are States the only international actors that possess international legal personality? This chapter first consides the characteristics of statehood and the legal tests for recognition of a State. Next, the political and legal dimensions of recognition of a State are considered. This is followed by a focus on the international legal personality of non-State actors, including international organisations, individuals and transnational corporations. Finally, the related issues of peoples and their right to self-determination, and secession are considered.

This chapter discusses the development of Jewish synagogue architecture in Late Antiquity, tracing its evolution from the early centuries to the more monumental structures of the fourth to sixth centuries. Drawing on a range of sources, it explores how synagogue architecture varied across regions, reflecting local styles, communal preferences and interactions with surrounding Christian and pagan cultures. While early synagogues primarily functioned as spaces for Torah readings, later structures became more elaborate, incorporating decorative elements such as Jewish symbols (e.g. the menorah, Torah shrine and ritual objects) and even figural representations – challenging traditional assumptions about aniconism in Judaism. The chapter also addresses debates over synagogue chronology, arguing that established typologies, such as Galilean-type and Byzantine-type synagogues, require re-evaluation in the light of recent archaeological discoveries. It emphasises that synagogue architecture was shaped not only by religious traditions but also by broader social and political factors. The presence of monumental synagogues in Late Antiquity suggests that Jewish communities remained active and resilient even under Christian rule.

This introductory chapter discusses the focus of this monograph, and places it in its theoretical, contextual and methodological context. Working from the premise that while gender shapes violence, violence also shapes gender, I introduce the central line of enquiry of this book: the gendered politics of settler colonialism, with a specific focus on masculinities across the sharply hierarchical divide of Israeli militarism and occupied Palestine.

The empirical research is placed within its historical context, serving to contextualise the settler colonial present – the application of which is explicated within this section. My own positionality, research methodology and the structure of the book is discussed after articulation of the conceptual framework of the book. The latter explores theory and literature surrounding gender, masculinities, violence, and their intersections – affirming Demetriou’s (2001, 342–48) argument that “when the conditions for the reproduction of patriarchy change”, “exemplary masculinities […] adapt accordingly.”

The concluding chapter highlights the fluidity and interconnected nature of masculinities within specific interactional settings across Israel and Palestine, indicating that what is hailed as ‘the ideal’ is ever subject to change amid complex webs of power, patriarchy, and militarised colonisation. Each telling components of much broader and complex stories, I summarise each chapter as indicative of the contingency and mutual adaptability of gendered dynamics across manufactured, militarised, and sharply hierarchical colonial divides. I argue that gendered identities in this context are connected by that which simultaneously separates them – the militarised violence of the colonial regime. In so doing, the intertwined nature of identities across and enmeshed within complex webs of power, violence and resistance are explored, revealing a plurality of scripts and codes that variously constitute the complex gendered politics of settler colonialism.

Specifically analysing the experiences of Palestinian youth in a West Bank refugee camp, Chapter IV analyses the navigation of emotions inevitably precipitated by the grinding realities of colonisation and military occupation, in a setting in which normative conceptions of masculinity assert that ‘men don’t cry’. Using Palestinian rap music as a case study to explore young refugee men’s navigation and subversion of these dynamics, I argue that emotional expression in this particular musical culture both functions to reconfigure binary gendered norms in a context of invasive settler colonialism, while simultaneously masculinising emotionality through a dialogic performance of emotion, nationalism, resistance, and paternalism. I illustrate, therefore, that in some ways gendered binaries are challenged in and through the performance of Palestinian rap as a form of resistance and release, while in other ways, these are reconfigured so that men’s emotional expression can be subsumed within them.

Chapter II examines shifting notions of masculinised strength as they adapt in occupied Palestine, contesting notions of ‘masculinity in crisis’ so frequently applied to this context. Where it is nigh impossible to enact physical strength in the face of the military might of Israel, I explore the fluidity of emblems of masculine strength and prowess – arguing that hegemonic masculinities and patriarchies in Palestine are not fixed, but move in dynamic relation to the conditions of coloniality with which they intersect. Through the examination of sumud, mental strength and moral strength, this chapter therefore charts emergent narratives of strength and resistance in a setting in which bodily invasion by the occupying forces is an ever-present reality. As such, where the violence of militarised colonisation routinely undermines normative conceptions of ‘masculine excellence’, I examine masculinised ideals as negotiated, maintaining binary gendered categorisations that (re)establish the masculine as strength.

Chapter VI explores the means through which imperial impositions and military occupation deliberately narrate, interact with, and affect internal dynamics of patriarchy in colonised Palestine – relating this to both articulations and expressions of violence against women within this context. Moving beyond the “essentialising cultural logics” that render patriarchal violence as a ‘static’ and ‘fixed’ component of ‘Palestinian culture’, this chapter thus joins with the pursuit of many Palestinian feminists to examine the complex “interplay between a colonial politics of exclusion and a localised culture of control” as it is narrated and deployed in relation to violence against Palestinian women (Shalhoub-Kervorkian and Daher-Nashif 2013, 298). Yet, I caution against centralising Israel’s military occupation as causal or ‘explanatory’ of internal dynamics of violence, arguing that making this link uncritically risks positioning Palestinian women’s bodies as discursive and material sites upon which an internal patriarchal order ‘in crisis’ can be normatively reclaimed.

This chapter examines the legacy of the Holocaust in all dimensions of Israeli life. It considers the evolving policy landscape, including decisions regarding commemoration, education, and the prosecution of collaborators. It also traces the evolution of the cultural and political status of “survivors.” Initially, resistance fighters were treated as heroes, while ordinary survivors were viewed as passive weaklings unable to defend themselves. Both stances were part of a Zionist understanding of Israeli identity. Over time, especially in the 1960s with the Eichmann Trial and in the wake of the 1973 Yom Kippur war, a more nuanced, mournful view took hold that acknowledged the importance of survival itself as essential for Jewish identity in a precarious world.

There are very few Holocaust survivors or perpetrators left in the world, and, quite soon, there will be none. What role will the Holocaust play in global culture and politics in a world where no one alive had any direct experience of the event? It seems unlikely that the Holocaust will ever disappear entirely from public consciousness, but what does the legacy and meaning of Nazi genocide look like going forward? In a fragmenting media, cultural, and political landscape, will there simply be a plethora of “Holocausts,” each dragooned into the service of some contemporary agenda? Will it be possible to craft and hold onto some kind of understanding of the Holocaust with broader reach, one that can perhaps help underpin ongoing efforts to mitigate mass violence?

During the 1920s Jewish organizations in the USA developed a strategy for guarding the global security of Jews. The strategy was based on economic assistance, international diplomatic pressure, and emigration. The Nazi accession to power fundamentally upset that strategy.