“Many of us like to ask ourselves, ‘What would I do if I was alive during slavery? Or the Jim Crow South? Or apartheid? What would I do if my country was committing genocide?’ The answer is, you’re doing it. Right now.”
On Feb 25, US Airman Aaron Bushnell immolated himself in front of the Israeli embassy in Washington DC. Bushnell attributed this ultimate act of protest to the United States’ explicit endorsement of Israel’s genocidal actions in Gaza, likening his self-immolation to the conditions thatPalestinians endure every day at the hands of their oppressors. As he burned, Bushnell shouted “Free Palestine!” until physically unable; a police officer trained a gun on him, ordering him to get on the ground. Bushnell eventually collapsed, at which point he was extinguished and taken to the hospital, where he would later die. The above quote comes from his final Facebook post.
If the neurosis at the core of the American soul could be distilled into a singular, representative exhibit, the mental image of a police officer, weapon drawn, shouting unheard commands at an auto cremating dissident may just be it.
In the wake of Bushnell’s actions, a cacophony of reaction has seized the world: rage pours out in the writings of comrades, their ideals for peace emboldened. Pernicious liberals decry the gaucheness of it all, detached annoyance tinging their words. Radical Israel sympathizers giddily giggle, joyous at the prospect of a world with one less protestor. I could go on, but among these countless expressions, there’s a particular, nagging tone—a tone that harbors the sentiment I find the most repugnant of all. A faux-concern voice, dry and uncaring, cites a vague, apolitical mental health crisis as the rationale for Bushnell’s action. “We shouldn’t glorify suicide,” they say. “He should’ve gotten help.”
Allow me a moment of complete transparency: of course self harm shouldn’t be romanticized, nor glorified. Full stop. But no one is saying it ought to be! That is not the nature of the discourse! The very real stir in my heart from Bushnell’s act of self-sacrifice is absolutely not due to an implicit, subconscious “pro-suicide” stance. In a better world, Aaron would be alive. Then again, in a better world, Aaron would have never had to protest at all. But we don’t live in a better world, so who is anyone to judge one’s psychopathology in relation to it? To belittle Aaron’s self sacrifice as a passing psychotic break is an insult not just to him, but the human soul itself—our very capacity for goodness.
Pathologization, as its oppressive historical usage has shown, is utilized here not as a tool to help *anyone*, but to lessen the validity of coherent drives at the core of all individuals. Though not outwardly stated, the implicit message of these declarations of ill mind is made clear: it’s insane to sacrifice oneself for a cause. And yet, had Aaron given his life during his time as a member of the Air Force, these same bemoaning scolds would ascribe heroism to his actions… but when Bushnell decided himself the cause his life was worth? He’s pathologized. Just crazy, they say. Not normal. Perhaps the true subliminal meaning is not that self-sacrifice is innately insane; but rather, to die for any cause except *ours* is. In this cruel schema, the only sane choice is the status quo; a status quo that upholds the violence that struck at Bushnell’s soul.
“It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society,” Jiddu Krishnamurti
Free Palestine.