Commentary
Returning to the kibbutz: A journey of heartbreak and hope
Hamas militants attacked Kfar Aza on Oct. 7

BY K.T. COLIN |Ā In 2019, my first encounter with Israel was through the lens of a sponsored Birthright trip. I embarked on a three-week journey, traversing the diverse landscapes from the northern regions to the eastern territories and finally to the arid southern desert. I had the opportunity to visit different communities within Israel and Palestine. Amidst this exploration, I spent an unforgettable three days and two nights in a kibbutz situated near the Gaza border. The memories etched in my heart were ones of unbridled joy, resilience and the harmonious coexistence of the desert dwellers ā an emotional tapestry that forever imprinted itself on my soul.Ā Coming from an Iraqi heritage, I viewed these expressions of coexistence through a lens shaped by my own region’s history of conflict and diversity.
As I recall the Shabbat dinner at the kibbutz, the air resonated with the sacred call to prayers (Adhan) from a nearby Bedouin Arab-Muslim town. The juxtaposition of cultures and faiths was a poignant reminder of the shared humanity that bound the Jewish and Arab Israelis in this region. It was a journey that transcended the ordinary, leaving an indelible mark on my consciousness. Filled with memories of peace and unity, I returned, only to confront a reality far removed from my cherished memories.
Fast forward to last month, when I returned to the Negev Desert, specifically to Kfar Aza ā one of the 22 kibbutzim targeted by Hamas on that fateful day, Oct. 7, 2023. The once vibrant oasis, brimming with the light of life, now stood shrouded in the darkness of war-induced death and destruction. The very bench where camaraderie blossomed in 2019, while sharing a moment of connection with an Israeli companion, lay reduced to ashes. The thriving pathways, once bustling with life, had metamorphosed into haunting reminders of blood and rubble. The faces that animated Shabbat gatherings, weaving tales of peace advocacy between Palestinians and Israelis, were now conspicuously absent. In the wake of Hamas’s brutality, no entity ā be it human, animal or plant ā escaped unscathed. The aftermath resembled scenes from an apocalyptic movie, a tableau of sensory deprivation dominated by the stench of death and the echoes of destruction. This destruction, while uniquely harrowing, echoed the all-too-familiar scenes of conflict from my childhood in Iraq, underscoring the universal tragedy of war.

While my roots trace back to Iraq, a land marred by wars and the brutality of conflict, the devastation witnessed in Kfar Aza struck a chord that reverberated with the echoes of my past.Ā My personal journey, from witnessing Saddam’s reign of terror to observing the aftermath in Kfar Aza, underscores a broader narrative of resilience and the enduring hope for peace.Ā Born during the Iraqi-Iranian war, my father’s absence for the first six months of my life spoke volumes about the toll of conflict. The invasion of Kuwait and subsequent wars entrenched the narrative of war as an unwelcome companion in our daily lives. Memories of the U.S. invasion in 2003, the ensuing civil war, and the subsequent loss of rights for women, secular individuals and LGBTQ+ members further underscored the harsh reality of conflict.
Yet, Kfar Aza was a unique chapter in my journey, revealing a form of malevolence that transcended my prior experiences. In their assault, Hamas meticulously targeted specifically peace activists who wanted nothing but peace and prosperity between Israelis and Palestinians, sparing no atrocity in their pursuit. This was not just about taking lives; it was a heinous assault on the very prospect of peace. The evil that unfolded reminded me of the forces mentioned in the Quran ā Yaajooj and Maajooj ā entities of pure malevolence against whom even Alexander the Great erected a wall, according to Muslim prophecy.
My upbringing in Iraq, under the shadow of Saddam Hussein’s dictatorship, fanned the flames of anti-Semitism. A once diverse Iraq, home to 165,000 Iraqi Jews, witnessed their forced exodus through decades of genocide. Subsequently, Christians, Yazidis and Sabbea Mandaeen fell victim to ethnic cleansing orchestrated by dictatorial regimes, Nazi pogroms, Iranian militias and ISIS. The slow erosion of tolerance and coexistence occurred methodically, propelled by hate campaigns championed by Arab nationalists and later fueled by Islamist movements, plunging Iraq into its darkest era.
My school days were marked by compulsory flag-greeting ceremonies, ostensibly patriotic but laden with hate. The chants of “Death to America; Death to the Zionists; Death to the Jews” echoed through the air, fostering a culture of animosity. Arabization and Nationalism classes further fueled this bigotry, leaving an indelible mark on impressionable minds.
The recent horrors in Kfar Aza echoed memories of a similar brand of terror perpetrated by Saddam’s regime ā the Fedaeen of Saddam, a precursor to Hamas’s brutality. The parallels were chilling ā beheadings, brutal punishments and a reign of terror continued even after the fall of Saddam, as they joined Al-Qaeda, leaving a trail of atrocities in cities like Fallujah and Ramadi.
As I witnessed the devastation in Kfar Aza, the echoes of war in nearby Beit Hanoun, Gaza, resonated hauntingly. The pain echoed from both sides ā the Israeli people enduring Hamas rockets since 2015 and the Palestinians suffering daily under the same regime. My heart shattered for the children left orphaned, the LGBTQ+ Gazans now without shelter or life-saving medications and the vulnerable girls and boys exposed to the horrors of Human trafficking and rape. The theft of humanitarian aid by Hamas left many without food and water, and the lip services to Palestinians by Arab and Muslim majority nations, painting a grim picture of a future hanging in uncertainty for those who survived.
Despite the deep scars of conflict, both in my homeland and here, I see glimmers of hope that guide us toward a shared future. I have endured the darkest chapters of conflict in my past, and I hold onto the belief that one day this war will end. I dream of a future where Israelis and Palestinians coexist in shared spaces, attending the same schools, dining at the same restaurants and dancing in the same nightclubs. Having witnessed such unity among Jews, Druze, Muslims and Christians in Israel, I pray for a day when this reality extends to Gazans and Israelis in the Negev Desert. The journey towards peace is arduous, but the human spirit, resilient and compassionate, holds the promise of a brighter tomorrow.
Commentary
Fight against TERFs goes global
UK Supreme Court on April 17 ruled legal definition of āwomanā limited to ābiological sexā

After last weekās U.K. Supreme Court ruling that reduced the legal definition of āwomanā to ābiological sex,ā footage of a group of women celebrating the decision with champagne spread virally across the media. These women are known as trans-exclusionary radical feminists, or TERFs.
In response, thousands of transgender people and their allies ā including parents, siblings, and pro-trans celebrities ā flooded the streets of London, Sheffield, Manchester, Cardiff, and other cities across the U.K. on April 19, to protest the erosion of trans rights. The fight between TERFs and trans* people have become more visible to those outside of the British LGBTQ+ community.
But this isnāt just about the U.K. The problem has gone global. For me, as an openly trans person who has lived in four different countries, it feels deeply personal.
For years, British TERFs have been spreading misinformation about gender around the globe, collaborating with far-right politicians and inspiring anti-trans violence.
At a pro-trans protest I attended in Sheffield, one of the speakers, Sofia Alatorre, a trans woman from Mexico now living in the U.K., dedicated her speech to the ways British TERFs, with their powerful movement supported by celebrities, such as āHarry Potterā author JK Rowling, are influencing people in South America.
āWhen I go to Mexico now, I don’t just hear people talking about transsexuals as degenerates anymore. Instead I hear about what bathroom we should use, or whether we belong in sports,ā Sofia told the Washington Blade. āThese are not lines that come from Mexico. They are finely crafted narratives designed to drive a wedge by weaponizing ācommon senseā gut reactions to complicated subjects. Because without these, they’d have to face the uncomplicated reality: We are just people trying to live our lives happily. In the U.K., the entire media infrastructure is sympathetic with āgender criticalā TERF ideology to the point that sympathy blurs into outright support. With these lines finding footing in the Global South, it seems clear that the U.K. has become an exporter of transphobia.ā
Unfortunately, TERFs even showed up at a trans event, attempting to argue with the speakers.
One of the trans* organizers of the Sheffield demonstration, who preferred to remain anonymous, expressed their love for the trans* community and trans* people. They emphasized that they are not expressing hatred toward TERFs ā they simply want them to reconsider their position.
āIf you’re a TERF and reading this, we donāt hate you,ā they said. āWe don’t hate you. There is nothing I hold in my heart but deep pity for you. You do not know the community of love that we have as transsexuals, and you only know your community of hatred. If you are tired of feeling nothing but hate, come and talk to us, we’re nice, I promise. This protest is a rallying cry that we can’t lose, that we are all here for each other, and that we can do whatever the f*ck we want when we work together. We may be out here today in rage, but what keeps us alive is love.ā
But it doesnāt seem like TERFs are ready to show love toward trans people ā or to see trans women as their sisters. At our local protest in Sheffield, they were so agitated, jumping toward speakers and trying to engage with them, that the police had to intervene and remove them to prevent a fight. It reminded me of TERFsā behavior I encountered in St. Petersburg, Russia, and in Russian-language online spaces.
Unfortunately, itās not just South America that has been influenced by UK TERFs. The country I currently live in is known within European and U.S. queer communities as āTERF Island.ā
Some trans Americans even avoid traveling to the U.K., afraid of the influence that Rowling holds over millions due to her wealth and cultural impact.
In Russia, Ukraine, and other Eastern European countries, so-called āradical feminismā is the most prominent feminist movement. Radical feminism, which emerged in the 1960s, is based on the belief that patriarchy is the root of all other forms of oppression.
In modern Eastern Europe, this has led to a situation where many feminists fail to acknowledge racism, ableism, and transphobia ā excluding everyone except cisgender people, Slavic, atheist, and able-bodied people from their movement. Historically, radical feminists have not focused much on the trans* community, but with the rise of trans* activism in the 2000s, many became fixated on targeting trans people.
Many of my Russian-speaking trans friends have been badly bullied by local TERFs. Some even experienced suicidal thoughts and severe anxiety due to online harassment from them. And these TERFs werenāt developing their ideology locally ā they were importing it. The anti-man rhetoric was inherited from American prominent radical feminists like Andrea Dworkin and Ti-Grace Atkinson, while the transphobic elements were āexportedā to Eastern Europe, primarily from the U.K. and specifically Scotland.
Even before Rowling, there was Magdalen Berns, a Scottish TERF YouTuber who was extremely popular among Russian girls and women. It was Berns who helped bring Rowling into anti-trans activism.
I spoke with Sophie Molly, a Scottish trans activist and politician who ran as an Independent MP candidate in the 2024 U.K. general election for the Aberdeen South constituency.
TERFs ruthlessly harassed her during her campaign.
āTransphobia is institutionalized in the UK. It is systemic and it’s getting worse with each passing dayā she told me. āLocal TERF have a slew of legal professionals on their team too. Like Sarah Phillimore and Joanne Cherry. TERFs have been continually lobbying the government to oppress trans and gender non-conforming people. Dragging their rights and freedoms through the courts. All under the pretense of protecting the rights of women. In reality these conservative groups are backed and funded by billionaires. Billionaires that want to remove trans people from public life, due a personal prejudice they hold. The majority of TERFs are wealthy and privileged white women. Most of them are not LGBTQIA+. They have obscene amounts of money to spend on persecuting a tiny minority. Trans women are women ā no matter what the U.K. Supreme Court dictates.ā
But another problem of TERFs is that they are policing women as well. Even the Supreme Court decision targeted women.
āThe [Supreme Court] decision is an attack on the rights of both trans people and women,ā Sophie said. āIt reduces women to their anatomy, which is extremely regressive and misogynistic in my opinionā
Women for decades have fought to ensure their lives wouldnāt be defined by the sexual organs they were born with. TERFs are now doing exactly that ā attempting to reduce womanhood to biology, while also dictating how women should behave, all in the name of āsisterhood.ā
Modern British TERFs have received support from figures like musician, far-right influencer, and convicted murderer Varg Vikernes, as well as ultra-conservative organizations such as the Russian Orthodox Church, an institution notorious not only for justifying the war in Ukraine with homophobic rhetoric but also for its long history of opposing womenās rights. This kind of āfeminismā is a global threat, not only to trans* people but also to girls and women everywhere.
Editorās note: The author uses trans* in order to be inclusive of nonbinary and gender queer people.
Commentary
America’s detransition: The far-right’s coordinated attack on climate policy and trans rights
Progress framed as ‘mistake that must be undone’

What if the far-rightās endgame isnāt just stopping progress, but erasing it altogether? From banning trans healthcare to reversing climate policies, they arenāt just resisting change ā theyāre trying to force the world back into an imaginary past that never existed.
Across climate policy and trans rights, the right isnāt just opposing change ā itās actively detransitioning America, unraveling progress under the guise of “common sense” and “restoring order.” But this isnāt just about ideology. Itās about power.
From pulling out of the Paris Agreement to banning gender-affirming healthcare, the right has perfected a political strategy that frames progress as a mistake that must be undone. Whether itās climate action or trans visibility, any step toward justice is framed as dangerous, unnatural, and in need of correction.
And if we look closer, these attacks arenāt just similar ā they are deeply connected. By comparing the rightās climate rollbacks and its war on trans rights, we can see a broader strategy at work: One that fuels fear, manufactures doubt, and ultimately serves the interests of those already in control.
The fight isnāt just about policy. Itās about who gets to belong in the future.
The manufactured crisis: Who profits from reversal?
To justify rolling back both trans rights and climate protections, the right leans on manufactured crises ā presenting change as a dangerous social experiment gone wrong. And the most effective way to do that? Weaponizing doubt.
Take climate change. Despite overwhelming scientific consensus, climate denialists cherry-pick uncertainties ā using rare instances of changing climate models to cast doubt on the entire field.
Similarly, the right has latched onto detransition stories, amplifying a handful of cases where individuals regret transitioning to suggest that all trans people will regret their identities.
By focusing on individual regret rather than systemic realities, these movements create the illusion that climate action and trans healthcare are harmful mistakes rather than necessary progress. The message is clear: We must ācorrectā these wrongs by detransitioning the country back to a time before this supposed damage occurred.
But who actually benefits from this rollback?
- Fossil fuel companies profit from climate skepticism, ensuring we remain dependent on dirty energy.
- Right-wing politicians fundraise off anti-trans fearmongering while avoiding economic issues that might actually improve peopleās lives.
By making people believe they are āfighting backā against elites, the right obscures the actual elites profiting from this manufactured outrage.
The spectacle: Turning trans lives and climate policy into distractions
None of this would work without media spectacle. Right-wing politicians and media outlets know that the most effective way to keep people from questioning power is to keep them emotionally invested in a performance.
Take the far rightās obsession with trans youth. They flood the airwaves with panic over puberty blockers, despite the fact that gender-affirming care is exceedingly rare.
A peer-reviewed study analyzing private insurance claims found that out of more than 5 million adolescents ages 8 to 17, only 926 received puberty blockers and 1,927 received hormone therapy between 2018 and 2022.
Similarly, climate policies are attacked as elitist schemes to control the working class ā painting green energy initiatives as an attack on personal freedom, just as gender-affirming care is framed as an attack on children.
By shifting the focus onto symbolic enemies ā the āradical trans activistā or the āclimate elitistā ā the right gives people someone to hate while avoiding the real sources of economic and environmental crisis.
And this isnāt just a cultural strategy. Itās a business model.
Capitalism is in the business of creating problems, then selling solutions.
- Oil companies push carbon capture technology while continuing to pollute ā ensuring the crisis is never fully solved, only managed.
- The right promotes ādetransition supportā while banning trans healthcare, creating a crisis where one didnāt exist.
Both strategies ensure that nothing actually changes, while making people feel like theyāre participating in a fight for freedom.
Itās a distraction, and itās working.
Nature as a battleground: The far-rightās fear of fluidity
At its core, the war on trans people and the war on climate action stem from the same fear: The fear of change.
Queer ecology tells us that nature itself is fluid, adaptive, and in constant transition. Yet, the far-right insists on rigid, binary categories:
- Man/Woman.
- Fossil Fuels/Renewables.
- Traditional/Disruptive.
In both cases, fluidity is framed as unnatural ā something that must be controlled through political intervention.
- Fossil fuels are labeled ānaturalā energy, while renewables are framed as āforcedā and āunnaturalāāa rhetorical tactic explored in a 2025 study on far-right climate discourse.
- Trans identities are labeled āunnatural choices,ā requiring government bans to prevent people from making āmistakes.ā
But whatās truly unnatural? The attempt to freeze society in time. The climate has always changed. Gender has always been fluid. The far-right isnāt defending nature ā theyāre defending control.
The far-rightās detransition obsession mirrors climate rollbacks
Capitalism is not interested in actual progress ā it only cares about control.
The obsession with detransition mirrors climate rollbacks in that both are framed as necessary corrections to a mistake.
- The Paris Agreement withdrawal was presented as a return to āenergy independence.ā
- Trans bans are framed as returning to ābiological reality.ā
But the goal isnāt returning to a real past. Itās about constructing a version of the past that justifies present oppression.
- Climate denial isnāt about scientific debate ā itās about maintaining corporate power, as Time reported in 2025.
- Anti-trans laws arenāt about protecting kids ā theyāre about enforcing gender hierarchies, according to a 2025 New York Times editorial.
Neither of these rollbacks is accidental. They are part of a deliberate strategy of control ā one that tells us that progress is always temporary and can always be reversed.
Who owns the future?
If we allow the right to detransition America, we risk a world where progress is always reversible, and power remains in the hands of those who benefit from disorder and fear.
The real question isnāt whether these issues are linked ā itās why they were ever separated to begin with. The fights for climate justice and trans rights are one and the same:
- A fight against the illusion of permanence.
- A fight against manufactured crisis and controlled reversal.
- A fight for a future that actually belongs to all of us.
So what do we do?
- We must refuse to accept their manufactured doubt ā trans rights and climate action are not mistakes that need fixing.
- We must reject their false nostalgia ā there is no past to return to, only a future to create.
- And most importantly, we must recognize that these struggles are connected.
If we fail to see this, we risk allowing reactionary forces to shape the future. But if we understand their playbook, we can disrupt the spectacle and refuse to let them dictate what comes next.
Because this fight isnāt about going back. Itās about moving forward ā and making sure no one can take that future away.
Cody Hays is a Ph.D. student at Arizona State Universityās Walter Cronkite School, researching media psychology, public understanding of science, and digital misinformation, with a focus on ideological worldviews; they are a Graduate Research Fellow in the MIDaS and Views and Values Labs, executive editor of the Journal of Public Interest Communications, and a nonprofit communications strategist with over a decade of experience in combating disinformation and mobilizing action.
Commentary
History of D.C. Pride: 1995-2007, a time of growth and inclusion
Rainbow History Project plans expansive WorldPride exhibit

In conjunction with WorldPride 2025 the Rainbow History Project is creating an exhibit on the evolution of Pride: āPickets, Protests, and Parades: The History of Gay Pride in Washington.ā In āFreedom on Americaās Main Streets,ā we discuss how during the 1990s the LGBTQ communities became more prominent across all areas of American life, the circumstances of moving official Pride activities to Pennsylvania Avenue, and the origin of the name āCapital Pride.ā
Throughout the 1990s, LGBTQ visibility increased significantly in American society. The LGBTQ community’s presence extended beyond news coverage of AIDS activism, with members participating in various social movements. Gay Black men joined the Million Man March in 1995, carrying banners and signs proclaiming “Black by Birth, Gay by God, Proud by Choice.ā Lesbians led abortion-rights rallies, LGBTQ Asians joined Lunar New Year parades, and LGBTQ Latinos marched in Fiesta DC.
Once again, financial difficulties around Pride activities led to the dissolution of the Gay and Lesbian Pride of Washington as an organization and the gay arts and culture non-profit One in Ten took over organizing Pride. One in Tenās mission was not solely Pride planning, but rather year round activities, including an attempt to make an LGBTQ history museum. Due to the explosion of activities, the crowd sizes, and the growing concerns around feelings of exclusion brought on by the neighborhoodās identity as a primarily gay white male space, in 1995, One in Ten moved the Pride parade and festival out of Dupont Circle to Freedom Plaza on Pennsylvania Avenue.
Although the struggle for bisexual visibility had successfully added the B to the 1993 March on Washington, the push to add Trans and Queer identities to Gay Prideās name was not yet successful; Pride was reborn as The Freedom Festival. Two years later, in 1997, the Whitman-Walker Clinic became not just a sponsor but also a co-organizer to alleviate some of the organizational and financial challenges. It was during this time that the event was officially renamed Capital Pride.
The name change sparked debate within the community. Frank Kameny, who had organized the 1965 pickets, harshly criticized the new name, arguing that it “certainly provides not an inkling of what we really mean: Pride that we are Gay.ā He lamented that the name change “represents Gay shame.ā However, others celebrated the inclusivity of the new name. L. A. Nash, a self-identified lesbian, wrote, “Gay is goodāGay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgender is far better.ā Elke Martin further supported the change, stating, “A name is your identity, it gives you legitimacy and a seat at the table.ā Capital Prideās official name was now āCapital Pride Festival: A Celebration of Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgendered Community and Friends.ā
In April 2000, the Millennium March on Washington highlighted divisions within the gay civil rights movement. Unlike previous grassroots marches organized by local activists, this event was orchestrated by national organizations like the Human Rights Campaign. However, its Millennium Pride Festival was by far the largest event with major headliners performing, including Garth Brooks and Pet Shop Boys. Critics argued that these events represented a corporatization of activism that sidelined political demands and local groups struggling for recognition.
In 2001, Capital Pride events were attracting 100,000 attendees. The festival was held on Pennsylvania Avenue with the U.S. Capitol in the background of the main stage. This location, often referred to as “America’s Main Street,” symbolized a significant visibility boost for the LGBTQ community. However, the Washington Post failed to cover the event beyond a simple listing in its events calendar. The outrage that ensued led Capital Pride director Robert York to state: āThis is the biggest and best Pride weāve had, and it is important to see it covered other than in the gay press.ā
It wasnāt until 2007, however, that SaVanna Wanzer, a trans woman of color and Capital Pride board member, successfully established Capital Trans Pride. “The transgender community needs its own event,ā Wanzer stated, ārather than just using us as entertainment. That’s all we’ve been allowed to do.ā Trans Prideās creation was a significant step toward greater inclusivity within the LGBTQ community.
Our WorldPride 2025 exhibit, āPickets, Protests, and Parades: The History of Gay Pride in Washington,ā will be installed on Freedom Plaza on May 17 to coincide with DC Trans Pride. We need your help to make it happen.