propaganda – The Woke Yogi

Sorting Science from Superstition

DISCLAIMER: The Woke Yogi is not an official site of the Fulbright Program or the U.S. Department of State. The views expressed on this site are entirely those of its author and do not represent the views of the Fulbright Program, the U.S. Department of State, or any of its partner organizations.

The Curse of the Monkey Skull

Shadows descended over Tali Forest in the early afternoon, the sun dappled by tall rhododendron thickets and cut mountain creases to the west. My trek leaders spoke in hushed tones of Himalayan superstitions: of birds who cry like children and fairies that dance in the wake of death. As we hiked up the mountain, I teased them for their childish ghost stories. But when we arrived at our campsite, a shiver crawled down my spine. The clearing was littered with dried bones.

Eerie though it was, I was delighted to stumble upon a monkey skull at the edge of the woods – nearly intact, with a half set of teeth.

Such a unique souvenir! I thought to myself as I gingerly wrapped the oddity in layers of plastic and cloth.

My delight quickly faded, however, when I became violently ill later that evening. The hiking had been tough on my body, and at 13,000 feet above sea level, I struggled to recover. Although I’ve spent my lifetime living at high altitudes, that night, for the first time, I was struck by acute mountain sickness (AMS).

The following morning, after a long, miserable night in my tent, a fellow trekker pulled me aside:

“Hey, I know this sounds out there, but legend says you should never remove anything from these woods… lest you fall sick…”

My eyes flickered to my daypack beside me, which contained my prized monkey skull. Without him saying as much, I knew exactly what he meant: I’d return that skull if I were you.

He was right – it was out there. So why was I immediately inclined to believe his superstitious explanation? All my symptoms pointed to altitude sickness, and yet, that clinical diagnosis sat uneasily in my gut. I didn’t want to believe that my body was succumbing to the harsh demands of high elevation. In my moment of vulnerability, the notion that I had fallen victim to a monkey spirit’s curse flooded me with understanding, even relief. I’m not weak or out of shape, I reassured myself, I just angered the forest’s patrons.

My feverish imaginings of a vengeful primate seemed to soothe my throbbing head and roiling stomach. It was dubious, implausible, but this supernatural story allowed me to make sense of my condition. It lent mystical meaning to a memory otherwise marred by discomfort and disorientation. Most importantly, it shifted the blame off my own shoulders – admittedly, I had neglected the cardio regimen that was, evidently, necessary for acclimatization.

There’s no doubt that modern medicine offered me something more pragmatic, more actionable than did Himalayan legend. None of our trek leaders knew how to reverse a curse, but we had medics on hand to treat AMS. My trekking cohort took it upon themselves to cure me with electrolyte packets, Acetazolamide capsules, and plenty of fresh water. Indeed, by the next day, I felt well enough to walk myself back down the mountain.

As I arrived back at base camp, flushed with pride and accomplishment, I began to wonder: Must we forgo empiricism to accept esotericism? Can science and spirituality coexist? It was hard to deny that medical intervention had saved my ass, and yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had been called into the woods for a paranormal purpose. I had brawled with the forces of the forest and emerged none the worse, albeit with a newfound faith in the local people’s fables.

Shadows of Scientific Certainty

In a previous post, I wrote about how spiritual people are particularly prone towards pseudoscience. In their belief of biblical genesis, for example, Evangelical Christians often belie evolutionary science. Moreover, we all know an *astrology girly* who dismisses medical innovations as mere harbingers of the Aquarian Age. I once attended a workshop in Boulder on traditional breath and bodywork practices, ranging from reiki to yoga to chakra massage. One of the sessions, ominously titled “The Truth About COVID-19,” turned out to be a fervid condemnation of vaccines (in hindsight, maybe I should have seen that one coming…).

Before we write these conspiracies off, we must consider that for lay people, belief in science often requires just as much blind faith as spirituality. If NASA says that there is life on Mars, most ordinary people have no way to fact-check their claims. We possess neither the resources nor the know-how to conduct such experiments. We must simply take astrophysicists at their word, trusting that these mysterious elites, with their lofty credentials and their top-secret security clearances, are feeding us the truth about the universe.

The scientific method is grounded in evidence and transparency, to be fair. Peer-reviewed journals exist to substantiate all the discoveries that take place behind closed doors. But most of these publications are inaccessible to the general public. Scientific knowledge is hidden behind paywalls and buried in jargon, to the extent that even exceptionally resourceful individuals struggle to discern what humankind already knows to be true. You can imagine how certain populations might grow suspicious of science, especially when our education systems discourage us from questioning its authority. Think critically about everything, we tell our children, except science. That stuff has already been proven in ways that you don’t and might never understand.

Of course, scientists get things wrong every day. They work with existing information to develop theories, which other scholars then corroborate and modify and yes, often disprove. Our collective understanding of reality is ever evolving, but that doesn’t mean scientists are lying or incompetent or power-hungry. It simply means that they’re human. Scientists dedicate their lives to the pursuit of knowledge, and we must trust that their specialized expertise is superior to our feeble skills with Google.

Not everyone has that kind of trust. Just as I hesitated to concede my AMS diagnosis, many people refute science for reasons both personal and systemic. And who can blame them? To believe in science is to accept that fallible humans, who attempt to answer ethically fraught questions amidst a slew of competing financial and political interests, should dictate our perceptions of existence. By contrast, it seems a whole lot easier to believe in God.

Spirituality offers a way for common people to comprehend the inaccessible and oftentimes imperceptible findings of modern science. It is in our nature to seek answers about our surroundings; without access to peer-reviewed publications or the education to understand them, alternative explanations will inevitably arise. Long-lost legends and far-fetched fairytales are a means for us to grapple with the order of the cosmos and our place within it. They allow us to find solace, even comfort, in chaos.

Conclusions: On Coexistence

Two things can be true at once. Perhaps I came down with acute mountain sickness because I removed a monkey skull from the jungle. My willingness to indulge superstitions need not undermine my fundamental belief in science and its evidence-backed explanations of natural phenomena. When we accept that science and spirituality can coexist, we can begin to disentangle our faith from the pseudoscientific discourses that turn our spiritual practices into dangerous tools of misinformation and propaganda. We can work towards a more informed future, even while acknowledging the forces that may forever remain beyond the scope of scientific inquiry.

As for the monkey skull, I kept it! It was far too rare a find to return. My spooky souvenir now sits on my shelf as a reminder that belief is a spectrum — science salvaged my health, but superstition made my trek unforgettable. I have since identified the skull as belonging to a Hanuman Langur (Latin name: Semnopithecus).

If there was ever a curse upon my head, well, I suppose it was short lived. I made a full recovery after my bout with AMS and have since remained in good health. I certainly intend to take altitude training more seriously next time, but allow my story to reassure you: superstitions carry only the power that you give them.

The Truth About Birthright Israel- Part Two

In my previous post, I wrote about my “Birthright” trip to occupied Palestine in 2018. “Taglit-Birthright Israel” is an Israeli government program that sponsors ten-day trips for all young Jews. I am Jewish on my mother’s side, so I decided to take advantage of the program.

Before embarking on my journey, I was quite unfamiliar with the socio-political controversies surrounding modern Israel. This ten-day trip certainly opened my eyes, and I was shocked by how viscerally I was confronted with conflict.

Yet, I had several Jewish peers who went on “Birthright,” and when they returned, they were enamored and entirely uncritical of the Israeli government. They spoke of forming lifelong relationships, connecting with their heritage, and of course, the delicious Israeli food. I was deeply disquieted by the differences in our experiences, which appeared to me as blatant indoctrination. Is a free ten-day trip really all it takes for young people to overlook human rights violations?

A Precursory Disclaimer on Antisemitism

Jews have been systematically persecuted since the advent of Judaism, circa 1000 BCE. Around 70 CE, the Romans destroyed the Jewish State of Israel, causing Jews to scatter across the globe. In the centuries to follow, Jews were pushed out of Russia, Austria, Germany, and many other countries across the globe, forced to seek asylum in foreign lands where they were despised due to religious conflict and ethnic stereotypes. The most obvious example of this hatred is the Holocaust, wherein 6 million+ Jews were murdered on the sole basis of their ethnic identity. These antisemitic biases and crimes persist today, as evidenced by the Pittsburgh Synagogue Shooting in 2017 and, more recently, the infamous hip-hop artist’s public hate speech towards Jews.

I provide this context to remind my readers that Jews have been and still are a targeted minority group throughout the world. For this reason alone, I felt it important to write a separate article on the beauty and complexity of Jewish culture that I experienced while in occupied Palestine. By splitting my travels into two separate articles, I acknowledge that I risk conveying a holistic view of Israel as entirely good or entirely bad. To the former, this trip taught me a lot about global politics and Jewish history. To the latter…well, let’s just get into it.

Some Quick Historical Context

Zionism — a nationalist movement that espouses the creation of a Jewish homeland — emerged in the late 19^th century. Jews yearned for a place to call their own; a spiritual center; a refuge free from discrimination, abuse, and violence. The new Jewish state, named Israel, was established in 1948 in the region historically known as Palestine. Zionists claim that this region, often regarded as The Holy Land, belongs to the Jews, for Jewish texts describe Jerusalem and surrounding areas as a sacred site for Judaism—the Promised Land.

One tiny problem: the Promised Land had already been promised to others—specifically, the Palestinian people, who had settled on that land for centuries preceding 1948.

This territory has been a source of conflict for so long that many consider it irreconcilable, and indeed, the conflict continues to this day. Since 1948, Israel’s military occupation has forced Palestinians into smaller and smaller areas in the West Bank and the Gaza Strip. Those who remain with their homes and communities in occupied Palestine face daily persecution from Israeli Defense Forces, which often culminates in destruction of Palestinian property or bodily harm. The Israeli-Palestinian conflict has consistently affected civilians and produced a disproportionate number of casualties from the Arab side, in large part due to Israel’s resources and military power. I implore my readers to research the continued violence against Palestinians in their ancestral homeland. Vox is a good place to start.

The "Birthright" Agenda

NOTE: I will continue to refer to my Taglit trip as “Birthright,” because I do not feel that Jews have any more birthright over that land than the people who have resided there for centuries. Furthermore, I use the terms “Israel” and “occupied Palestine” to refer to the same region; “Israel” in the context of the Jewish nation-state, “occupied Palestine” everywhere else.

Step One: Get them while they're young

In the wee hours of dawn, I stepped afoot an Israel-bound plane with forty other young Jews. In my first attempt to make friends, I struck up a conversation with a girl seated next to me—a fellow brown-skinned, dark-haired, Jewish girl who could, like me, pass for “ethnically ambiguous.” I must have mentioned that I speak some Spanish (studied in high school and later in college) because she exclaimed,

“Cool! I love Mexicans! I love your culture!”

She’s confused, but she’s got the spirit, I thought. Chuckling, I said, “I’m actually half-Indian, half-American Jewish.”

“Oooooh, so can you speak Indian?”

Um…. there are 22 scheduled languages and hundreds of regional dialects spoken in India, none of which are called “Indian.” My father speaks Bengali, and I study Hindi. Common mistake—I didn’t fault her.

Yet, this encounter set the tone for many of my future interactions with my fellow “Birthright” travelers. While many of them proved knowledgeable about Jewish customs and Israeli history, they also turned out to be uneducated, tone deaf, or even willfully ignorant to other cultures—especially Palestinian culture. For many of my peers, “Birthright” was their first time traveling outside of their home state, let alone by themselves or internationally. At age 20, I was older than most of the individuals in my group, who were primarily fresh out of high school and extremely impressionable to the ideas proposed by our tour guide and group leaders. I believe the “Birthright” agenda is heavily targeted towards those who have limited prior cultural exposures.

Step Two: Lure them to Israel

“Birthright” is a shockingly generous program. The Israeli government pays for thousands of Jewish youths to visit every year, and there’s virtually no catch, besides having to stay for the entire ten days. If you leave early, or somehow get kicked off, you only forfeit a $200 deposit. Many travelers take advantage of the free overseas flight and continue to travel around Asia or Europe after the trip ends—“Birthright” makes no conditions as to when you arrive or when you leave the country, so long as you participate in the ten days of organized travel. They’ll pay for your flight home–no questions asked!

Furthermore, the “Birthright” budget is by no means modest. We slept in 5-star hotels, gorged ourselves on gourmet buffets, and engaged in countless cultural activities that would have burned through a tourist’s pocket. The sheer luxury of this free program raises some questions, to say the least. Yet, if you’re Jewish, you would be stupid to not take advantage of this program. In this way, the “Birthright” offer is somewhat irresistible.

Step Three: Make them feel at home

Israel boasts a developed free-market economy, with modern infrastructure that rivals many Western countries. The country’s prosperous economy allows for sophisticated welfare programs, a powerful modern military, and high-quality education systems. As a result, many parts of occupied Palestine feel comfortable and familiar for many American travelers—perhaps even uncannily so. Indeed, the difference between Israel and its neighboring nations—Jordan, Lebanon, and Egypt—is stark. The Tel Aviv skyline, the developed roads, the thriving technology industry…these factors point to colonial power, not a young sovereign nation sequestered in the Middle East.

From my perspective, the logic behind this step is quite clear: shower the young visitors with lavish gifts so they won’t ask questions. At the beginning of the trip, I naively wondered if “Birthright” is an innocent ploy to boost Israeli tourism. As time went on, however, I started to feel as though I had been paid for my silence.

Step Four: Promote anti-Arab propaganda

My fellow travelers’ true colors emerged quickly. Upon arriving at our hotel on the first night, one girl became restless and irate. She began to shout about having to sit next to a Palestinian woman on the plane ride,

“I bet she thought she was going to Palestine, huh? Well, she’s not. This is ISRAEL!” She followed her angry tirade with a stream of obscenities, prompting one of our group leaders to step in.

“Hey now, I spoke to a Palestinian man on the plane, and he was actually very nice…” the group leader began weakly, but we all recognized the futility of his attempt. Even he seemed unconvinced. There was no further effort to counter her blatant hate speech.

From that interaction onward, anti-Palestinian rhetoric became commonplace among our group. Other forms of hate speech also went unpunished (the N word was popular among my group—needless to say, none of us were Black), but remarks targeted at Palestinians seemed to be encouraged, even rewarded. These sentiments were propagated by our Israeli tour guide and our American group leaders as much as my fellow travelers.

For example, the Birthright itinerary always includes a visit to Israel’s borders with Syria and Jordan so that travelers can “gain a real understanding” of Israel’s geo-political positionality in the Middle East. This “real understanding” turned out to be a slew of propaganda which cast Jordanian and Syrian people as uncivilized, violent warmongers. Our tour guide, standing with his back to the arid Syrian plains, gestured broadly across the farmlands and said casually,

“We always see explosions over there.” Inevitably, this remark prompted several ignorant questions: How often do they bomb Israel? Have they ever targeted a Birthright group? Are Syrian women educated? Are they all forced to build bombs? The conversation was unproductive once again, serving only to heighten fear and distrust. As for perspective gained on Israeli geopolitics, we were evidently meant to view Israel as a perfect victim, helplessly sandwiched between primitive Arab countries with no means of self-defense. Records of military spending will no doubt have a different story to tell.

At the Dead Sea, our tour guide declared that the Jordanian government is purposefully polluting the saline water to gain control over it. He conveniently neglected to mention that Israel is equally to blame for the Dead Sea’s lowering water levels and rising number of contaminants. In reality, the two countries’ refusal to cooperate threatens the Dead Sea far more than the pollutants of either country alone. Israelites have historically accomplished great feats in water management (see Part 1), but their inability to work with Arab neighbors may cause irreparable damage to their historical and religious landmark.

The anti-Arab discourse came to a head in Jerusalem. On a rooftop overlooking the Old City, our tour guide began to lecture about the Temple Mount, the Western Wall, and other sacred geographies. He recounted the First Temple and its fall to the neo-Babylonians, then the subsequent Second Temple and its fall to the Romans. Then he pointed to Al-Aqsa, the plaza beyond the Western Wall. Barely bothering to conceal his disgust, he sneered, “they stole our temple.”

Dominion over the Temple Mount, or Al-Aqsa as Muslims call it, has been central to global religious conflict for centuries. This location is a sacred site for all three Abrahamic traditions–Judaism, Christianity, Islam–whom all constantly vie for control. However, the claim that Muslims stole the Temple Mount is reductive and historically questionable. 500 years span the gap between King Herod’s Second Temple and the construction of the Dome of the Rock; if anything, the Romans should be on trial, for their temple to Jupiter was the first to replace its Jewish predecessor. Our tour guide’s accusation mirrored the broader Zionist ethic, which tends to ignore historical chronology in favor of spiritual entitlement.

All this hateful rhetoric against Arabs was underscored by a bizarrely cheerful spring break energy. Out of all the planned activities, my peers were mostly interested in clubbing in Tel Aviv, partying at the beach, and drinking in our hotel rooms. We were shuffled from marketplaces to gift shops to malls, urged to shop for handicrafts and try authentic local cuisine. Ironically, many of these uniquely “Israeli” dishes (shakshuka, hummus, falafel) are just shameless appropriations from Arab cultures. But my peers were far too busy spending their shekels at upscale boutiques to think critically about colonial exchange networks.

Step Five: Instill Zionist loyalty

Much like American education, the framework of “Birthright” is infused with an Israeli nationalist spirit that strategically penetrates the pathos. The “Birthright” itinerary takes young Jews through Israel’s national cemeteries, war forts, and great historic battle sites. These morbid locations work in conjunction to illustrate the endless plight of the Jews. Simultaneously, the educational core glorifies Jewish history to justify the creation of the Zionist State.

Through all of this, my group was drinking excessively, hooking up with one another, and attending “Birthright”-sponsored EDM mega-events that celebrated the founding of Israel. At the mega-event I attended in 2018, a sponsor implored the audience (thousands of Birthright travelers) to act as ambassadors and sway public opinion in Israel’s favor when we returned home. I was shocked by his bold request, but when I glanced around me, my peers were smiling and cheering—they had been drinking for hours by that point. I guess alcohol makes the propaganda go down easier.

There was also a distinct undercurrent of peace symbolism throughout the trip. I mentioned in Part 1 that we were each given a dove to release for seemingly no reason. Later, we took a tour of an olive oil factory, where the saleswoman really emphasized the olive branch imagery.

And then there were the IDF soldiers. “Birthright” includes a multi-day mifgash (encounter) with Israeli peers, who are almost always active duty in the Israeli Defense Forces. On my trip, our IDF peers traveled with us for six days.

For background, Israel mandates conscription for every citizen over the age of 18. Men are expected to serve a minimum of 32 months, women 24. Arab Israelis are notably and explicitly exempt from service, as are a few other groups such as religious women and married individuals. The Israeli Defense Forces is somewhat notorious with the United Nations for its perpetual war crimes in conflict against Palestine, so I was fascinated (and somewhat terrified) to meet the young soldiers in person and pick their brains.

As it turned out, my IDF peers had little to say because they had nothing to admit. One day, I sat with an American friend and an IDF soldier, a woman named Einav, for lunch. My American friend mentioned a video he had seen the previous week, of an IDF bombing of a Palestinian civilian area.

“Do you support this?” he asked Einav.

“That wasn’t us,” Einav responded immediately, impulsively.

“What do you mean?” my friend asked, puzzled. “You can see the soldiers in IDF uniforms in the video. You can see them, see?” He pulled out his phone and showed her his news source. Her eyes skimmed the screen and without hesitating:

“Video footage can be doctored. Don’t believe everything you see on the internet,” Einav scolded. My American friend looked at me, jaw dropped. Is she required to cover for her country? Or does she truly believe that Israel is blameless?

Further inquiries were met with sharp denial. Trying to convince her felt futile, so the topic was dropped, unresolved.

Step Six: Encourage marriage within the religion

Our IDF peers were not just there to make us doubt the media narratives against Israel. They were also there for our socializing and fraternizing pleasure. They slept with us in our hotel rooms, and our group leaders did little to discourage frisky co-ed behavior. In fact, I can recall several instances when “Birthright” organizers encouraged the development of romantic relationships between group members. We were each slept 4 to a room, but that didn’t stop my fellow travelers from…enjoying each other’s company.

Subliminally, I had known that this is the motivation behind “Birthright”—to promote marriage within the religion. An ongoing longitudinal study called the Jewish Futures Project shows that Jews who go on “Birthright” are significantly more likely to marry another Jew than those who don’t. What I did not expect, however, was their complete lack of subtlety. More than once, we were told to “look around you—your husband or wife is probably standing in this group!” Everyone told us in plain terms to fall in love on “Birthright,” marry another Jew, move back to Israel, and have Jewish babies.

The part they didn’t say out loud?

Those Jewish babies grow up to be Israeli citizens and, inevitably, IDF soldiers. “Birthright” is a soft power tool of demographic engineering and military recruitment, designed to insure the Jewish majority in future generations so that the Israeli state may continue to occupy Palestine.

Despite my tour guide’s efforts to portray the Zionists as innocent victims of Arab violence, Israel has blood on its hands. Israeli occupation of the West Bank and the Gaza Strip, as well as the innumerable war crimes committed against the Palestinian people since 1948, have been solely enabled by Israel’s mandatory conscription law. By participating on “Birthright,” I was a gullible pawn in this master plan.

Step Seven: Lure them back

After everything I experienced during my ten days in occupied Palestine, I could hardly believe it when, at the end of the trip, my fellow travelers were heartbroken to leave. They shared teary goodbyes and sappy lectures about how the trip had changed their lives, how they would miss everyone so dearly, and how proud they were to be Jewish. Many vowed to move to Israel, while others promised to spread the good word when they returned home.

Frankly, I could not participate in their festivities; my feelings were the opposite of theirs. My “Birthright” trip had disillusioned me so completely that I did not ever want to return to Israel. I did not want to advocate for Zionism. I did not want to marry a Jew. When I left Israel, I didn’t even want to BE a Jew anymore. I felt deeply ashamed by the violence initiated by my ancestors and perpetuated by my peers. I could not believe that these geopolitical conflicts, seemingly so ancient and abstract, could manifest themselves before my eyes so tangibly. Furthermore, I could not believe that kids my own age were willing to overlook these conflicts for a free vacation.

Most of all, my heart ached for the Palestinian people—those who still live under apartheid rule, and those who have died in the fight. “Birthright” did not introduce us to those people, nor acknowledge their oppression. “Birthright” relies on the anonymity of Palestinians to tell its twisted tale of nation-making and justification. “Birthright” abets Israeli occupation in Palestine by spreading misinformation and indoctrinating thousands of young Jews every year.

“Birthright” is a violent colonial institution. That is the truth. And while I can only speak for my own experiences, I hope that my Jewish peers will also soon recognize their ethical obligation to speak out against Israel.

FREE PALESTINE!

If you are interested in supporting the fight to Free Palestine, please consider donating to one of the following organizations:

Medical Aid for Palestinians

Palestine Campaign

United Palestinian Appeal

Jewish Voice for Peace

If you would like more context on the Israel-Palestine conflict, please visit the following resources:

United Nations

The Iron Cage by Rashid Khalidi

The Israel-Palestinian Conflict by James L Gelvin

Arabs and Israelis: Conflicts and Peacemaking in the Middle East by Abdel Modem Said Aly, Shai Feldman, & Khalil Shikaki

Tag: propaganda