"Have mercy on us!" This cry in Gaza was not only an expression of pain, but also a reflection of an existential situation: a people stripped of their humanity. When an Israeli official declares that they are fighting "human animals," we are not dealing with an emotional description, but with a psychological doctrine. Occupation is not merely a power struggle, but an organized process of redefining the victim. In order to destroy a house, besiege a city, and wage a war of extermination, you must first convince yourself that those inside are not fully human. This is where the psychology of dehumanization begins.
What is dehumanization?
Researcher David Livingstone Smith defines dehumanization as a cognitive process based on perceiving a particular group of people as "subhuman" and therefore not belonging to the category of human beings. This definition implies that when a particular group is dehumanized, we don't just think about what they lack, but also about what they are. They are not only subhuman, but also dangerous creatures like monsters and demons, or vile creatures like rodents, insects, germs, or tumors that must be eradicated.
This concept is clearly evident in Israeli political and military rhetoric toward the Palestinian people. One of the most prominent examples of this is the statement made by former Israeli Minister of War Yoav Galant, in which he said: "We are fighting human animals and we act accordingly." This statement carries profound implications that go beyond a mere negative description of the other side; it is a stark example of the application of dehumanization. He did not simply describe Palestinians as "animals," a comparison that aims to deny their human qualities, nor did he say that they were "human beings" who had committed "bad deeds" for which they could be tried in a humanitarian context. Rather, he crafted a composite image that combines contradictions: "human animals." This composite image conjures up hybrid creatures, half human and half animal, resembling monsters in horror films, such as "mummies" that combine death and life. This hybrid embodiment creates an abnormal and frightening entity, which is more effective in instilling terror than simply describing the opponent as an animal. Galant had a number of objectives in mind for this:
First, justification of violence: By describing the other party as a "monster" or "vile creature," they are removed from the moral and legal protection afforded to human beings. It becomes acceptable, even necessary, to "act accordingly," i.e., to use any means necessary to eliminate this non-human threat. More dangerously, this killing is transformed from a justified act of violence into a moral act, as the perpetrator imagines that they are performing a noble duty by ridding the world of these creatures that threaten human existence. With this transformation, violence acquires a double legitimacy: the legitimacy of necessity and the legitimacy of virtue.
Second, inciting fear and rallying support: The image of the Palestinian as a hybrid monster serves to instill fear in Israel's supporters both inside and outside the country, making them feel that they face an existential threat that cannot be appeased or negotiated with, but must be eliminated. This sense of existential danger mobilizes popular and political support for war and extermination, creates a general climate that supports any action against this "inhuman" enemy, no matter how brutal, and silences voices that criticize or call for peaceful solutions.
However, this analysis raises a deeper question: what is fundamentally lacking in these people that they are considered "subhuman"? How can one justify dehumanizing beings that resemble us in every way, internally and externally? The answer lies in the concept of "human essence." For Israelis, Palestinians—despite looking exactly like Zionists on the outside and having the same biology— They eat, drink, and walk on two feet, and they have hearts, eyes, and hands—yet they are portrayed as lacking this essential core that all humans are supposed to possess and that elevates them to the status of fully human beings.
What makes dehumanization possible?
Here is another question: What enables the human mind to perceive others as subhuman beings? What cognitive mechanisms make this process possible, and even convincing, despite the obvious biological similarities between humans? The answer lies in three fundamental characteristics of the human mind: the ability to categorize, the tendency to attribute "essence" to beings, and the hierarchical conception of the natural and social world.
First: Classification: The ability to divide the natural world into categories that we call "species" is a cognitive characteristic. It is fundamental and extremely important for our survival and interaction with nature, as it helps us understand and manage natural phenomena and predict the behavior of the creatures around us. However, at some point in our cultural and social evolution, this adaptive ability shifted from the realm of nature to the realm of human society, where we began to divide people into races, groups, and categories. Understanding this mechanism is crucial, because it forms the core of racism; and racism, in turn, is the gateway to dehumanization. Racism means that we view a particular group as inferior to us in value or status, and it is only one step forward before this "inferiority" turns into "subhumanity."
Second: The tendency to attribute essence (essentialism): In addition to categorization, we seem to have a strong cognitive tendency to consider that every living being has an "essence" that distinguishes it from others, gives it its fixed characteristics, and is passed on to its offspring. This essence is an imaginary concept seen as the source of identity and characteristics. In the context of dehumanization, this cognitive tendency is employed by claiming that the targeted group lacks the human essence possessed by others. Herein lies the contradiction: despite apparent biological and behavioral similarities, Palestinians are portrayed as having a different essence, one that is deficient or inferior, thereby justifying their treatment as inferior beings.
Third: The hierarchical conception of beings (hierarchical thinking): These mechanisms are complemented by another cognitive bias, which is that we tend to belief in a strict hierarchical order of living beings, placing some at the top and others at the bottom. This hierarchical conception allows us to classify beings and groups on a graduated scale of value and existence. When this conception is applied to the social sphere, human groups are distributed on an existential ladder: at the top are "complete humans," and at the bottom are "human animals." This imagined hierarchy legitimizes domination and control, even making it seem "natural" and "inevitable."
When we examine Israeli discourse, we discover an important psychological truth: the dehumanization of Palestinians is essentially a mirror reflecting the Israeli psyche, rather than an accurate description of Palestinians. It is a psychological defense mechanism aimed at justifying atrocities and turning Palestinians into mere "numbers," "existential threats," or "monsters" deserving of punishment, thereby making it easier for the executioner to overcome the barrier of moral conscience. Therefore, resistance to this mechanism begins with restoring the essence of humanity.
How do we confront dehumanization?
The first steps toward restoring humanity lie in highlighting individuality and turning numbers into names. Every martyr who fell is not just a number in a statistic, but a human being with a story. When we call our martyrs by their names and tell their personal stories—what they loved, what they dreamed of, what their small and big ambitions were—we erase the trace of abstraction from them. The narrative of a child who dreamed of becoming a doctor, a young man who loved to play the oud, or an elderly woman who laughed with her grandchildren, restores the victim's dignity and makes their passing a wound in our collective humanity, not just an item in a political report.
The second step is to document daily life. While some narratives attempt to reduce Palestinians to the image of "fighters" or "threats," publishing photos and videos of ordinary Palestinian life provides the strongest and most authentic refutation. Images of students on university campuses, reading, discussing, and dreaming of the future. Scenes of doctors treating patients in hospitals, defying the blockade and shortages of supplies. Videos of artists playing music and children playing in alleys or on the beach. These scenes are not just documentation of a moment, but a declaration of life. Everyday life, with all its simple and beautiful details, is the strongest refutation of all attempts to dehumanize.
Third, resistant archaeology: While the occupation attempts to use archaeology as a tool to Judaize the land and erase Palestinian history, Palestinians can use it as a weapon of cultural resistance. Documenting the historical Palestinian presence by connecting contemporary Palestinians to their Canaanite ancestors and other peoples who inhabited this land for thousands of years reshapes the narrative. Only humans have history, identity, and memory. When we prove that our roots in this land stretch back thousands of years before any modern colonial narrative, we affirm that we are not intruders who can be displaced, but a people organically and historically connected to their land.
Fourth, live coverage: During the genocide in Gaza, platforms such as TikTok and Instagram were the world's real window into what was happening. Palestinian citizen journalism broke the monopoly on the narrative and conveyed the scene live, without filtering. The faces of children under the rubble, the voices of mothers calling for their children, young people distributing food to the displaced, a child drawing the Palestinian flag on a destroyed wall. These live scenes show the real Palestinian faces and voices, restoring their humanity. The world sees with its own eyes who the real victims are and who is perpetrating the real violence.
Fifth, boycott movements: Working to boycott Israel academically, economically, and culturally creates a state of parity and sends a clear message: Palestinians are capable of imposing a cost on the occupation, and they are active players on the international stage, not merely passive victims waiting for mercy. Most importantly, it creates a kind of parity between Palestinians and Israelis, and parity can only exist between people of equal value.
Sixth, mutual recognition: Amidst the conflict, there are exceptional moments of mutual recognition between Palestinians and Jews who oppose the occupation. Images of solidarity meetings, former Israeli soldiers who not only acknowledge their crimes but also oppose the very idea of a Jewish state and work against it, Jewish peace activists stand with Palestinians in the face of policies of demolition and displacement, and Israeli families embrace the narrative of the Nakba and oppose the Zionist project at its roots. Documenting these moments reveals a shared humanity.
Finally, culture and art: Palestinian novels, poetry, cinema, and music convey deep human emotions—love, loss, hope, sadness, alienation, return—that only humans possess. A film like Omar tells not only a story of political conflict, but also one of impossible love, betrayal, and friendship. Ghassan Kanafani's novels do not present political documents, but rather give us a rich and complex inner world, with characters who love, suffer, and dream of returning to the seashore. These works of art convey to the world that Palestinians are not "numbers" or "monsters," but human beings who cry, laugh, love, write poetry, and play music like all human beings, yet carry a wound called Palestine.
In conclusion, this conflict goes beyond being a dispute over land to become a conflict over human values. The mechanisms of dehumanization that we have exposed aim to justify the occupation and the oppression of an entire people. But Palestinian resistance, in all its cultural, daily, and other forms, proves the falsity of this abstraction on a daily basis. However, the restoration of humanity through culture and documentation remains incomplete unless it is complemented by political action. Ultimately, the full restoration of Palestinian humanity and the liberation of the Jewish conscience from the burden of the executioner can only be achieved by ending the occupation and working towards the establishment of a single democratic Palestinian state, in which Palestinians and anti-Zionist Jews enjoy equal rights and dignity. This is the essence of the historical proposition of the Palestinian liberation project.
