9.1 Slow Erasure and the Resistance Against It
9.1 Slow Erasure and the Resistance Against It¶
In the powerful poem I open with, Mahmoud Darwish writes how the conqueror fears the memories of conquest as they stir recollections of violence and potential guilt. However, what troubles the conqueror even more is the memory of the conquered, for it reignites their will to resist. In Palestine, embracing life fully can be a form of resistance.
In this thesis, I have sought to examine and substantiate the concept of slow erasure, a slow-moving and pervasive process through which settler-colonialism aims to destroy Indigenous identity, agency and episteme, and resistance against this erasure process. I explained how slow erasure is located within the recognition of the importance of understanding genocide as a complex, ongoing process rather than a singular event. I locate slow erasure within the concept of genocide by attrition, noting that the ongoing and structural nature of settler-colonialism results in genocidal processes that are not immediately recognized as such.
Through a multifaceted analysis of Israel’s body politics and biopower spanning historical dimensions, daily life, and incarceration of Palestinians, I have demonstrated that slow erasure is a powerful technology set into play by the settler state to rid itself of the Indigenous population. As I have shown, slow erasure can be seen in the systematic efforts to undermine and erase Palestinian identity and culture. This process involves not only the physical displacement or the killing of Palestinians. It also aims to destroy the identity embodied by Palestinians. As this work has argued, actions are part of a broader strategy aimed at erasing the Palestinian presence from the land and consolidating the settler state. Through the voices of the Palestinians I used in this work, I examined how practices targeting Indigenous bodies contribute to the process of slow erasure by acknowledging these ongoing forms of violence as part of a broader genocidal framework within settler-colonial contexts. This perspective challenges the limitations of international law in recognizing the full scope of genocidal practices and calls for a more nuanced understanding of how genocide unfolds over time.
As mentioned, the concept of slow erasure also involves the targeted elimination of Indigenous knowledge systems, which are vital to Indigenous identity and survival. Settler-colonialism seeks to dismantle these knowledge systems, whether through the devaluation of Indigenous education or the destruction of, for example, agricultural knowledge and historical awareness. The loss of these systems represents a crucial aspect of the gradual genocidal process of slow erasure, undermining both epistemic sovereignty and the capacity for collective agency.
The slow erasure of Palestinian identity, agency, and episteme under Israeli settler-colonial rule is not an incidental consequence of occupation but a deliberate strategy of control and domination. Through spatial fragmentation, bodily violence, and the calculated assault on knowledge and cultural continuity, this system aims to dismantle the very conditions necessary for Palestinian existence. The mechanisms of control, militarised checkpoints, enforced displacements, the destruction of homes, and the suppression of knowledge, seek to sever the ties between the Palestinian body and the land, ensuring that presence becomes precarious and resistance increasingly constrained.
This erasure extends beyond the physical domain into the realm of necropolitics, where the management of death becomes another instrument of control. The withholding of corpses, the criminalisation of mourning, and the denial of burial rights all reinforce a system in which Palestinian bodies are not only subject to domination in life but also denied autonomy in death. The weaponisation of disability through maiming and the restriction of medical care further illustrate how the settler-colonial state governs Palestinian existence through violence that is not just immediate but accumulative, rendering survival itself an act of resistance.
Imprisonment and torture operate as key instruments in this project of erasure, targeting not only the body but the very essence of Palestinian identity and agency. In interrogation rooms and prison cells, the Palestinian subject is subjected to extreme physical and psychological subjugation, intended to break resistance from within. The dehumanisation of prisoners, the calculated deprivation of care, and the manipulation of bodily functions as a means of coercion underscore how incarceration is not merely punitive but constitutive of the broader settler-colonial strategy. However, despite these oppressive mechanisms, the Palestinian body remains a site of resistance, refusing total subjugation even under the most extreme duress.
Amidst this suffocating matrix of control, Palestinian resistance persists in both overt and subtle forms. The concept of sumud embodies this refusal to disappear. Whether through daily acts of defiance, clandestine education in prison cells, hunger strikes, or the preservation of cultural and historical narratives, Palestinians assert their presence against erasure. The prison, intended as a site of dehumanisation, becomes a space of intellectual and cultural resistance, where knowledge is not merely preserved but mobilised as a tool for liberation.
While explored throughout the thesis, it bears repeating: the settler-colonial project targets identity, but Palestinian resistance, rooted in culture, memory, and relational agency, persists. The Murabitat’s defence of Al-Aqsa, the creative resistance of imprisoned youth, and even the biopolitical defiance of smuggling sperm out of prison all highlight the resilience embedded within the struggle. These actions affirm that identity and agency persist, refusing to be extinguished despite systemic attempts at obliteration.
Ultimately, the Palestinian struggle is not solely about enduring physical violence; it is about asserting the right to exist, both as individuals and as a people. Sumud, in its myriad expressions, stands as a testament to the Palestinian people, an unwavering refusal to succumb to erasure. In the face of settler-colonial domination, this resistance is not only a means of survival but a profound assertion of presence, history, and futurity.
In conclusion, the concept of slow erasure provides a critical framework for understanding the genocidal logic within settler-colonialism, particularly in their assault on Indigenous identity, agency, and episteme. This framework compels us to look beyond overt acts of oppression, drawing attention to the quieter, often unacknowledged forces that contribute to the erosion of cultures and histories. As I have demonstrated, slow erasure is essential for comprehending the full scope of settler-colonial violence, offering both an analytical tool and a call to action. Addressing this phenomenon requires vigilance, critical awareness, and an unwavering commitment to the preservation of marginalised histories and identities. To remain silent is not neutrality but complicity. It is violence. We must refuse to let Indigenous identities, cultures, and peoples be erased.