A personal reflection on Zionism, exile, and the tragic repetition of history — when a movement meant for redemption inherits the tools of its oppressors.
I was born in a kibbutz in the early 1980s. When I was five, we moved to the city;…
A personal reflection on Zionism, exile, and the tragic repetition of history — when a movement meant for redemption inherits the tools of its oppressors.
I was born in a kibbutz in the early 1980s. When I was five, we moved to the city;…