The Unyielding Flame of Resistance
"Revolutionary suicide does not mean that I and my comrades have a death wish; it means just the opposite. We have such a strong desire to live with hope and human dignity that existence without them is impossible. When reactionary forces crush us, we must move against these forces, even at the risk of death.” — Huey P. Newton
On February 25th, Aaron Bushnell, an active member of the US Air Force, made a statement of profound sacrifice by self-immolation in front of the Israeli embassy in DC. Standing tall amidst the flames, his voice rang out with a fervent cry for justice, echoing the suffering of Gaza. For 44 agonizing seconds, he stood as a symbol of unwavering defiance before succumbing to the blaze. Ever since, my mind has been flooded with a torrent of haunting questions: how does it feel to be burned alive? To be engulfed in flames lit by no other than your own two hands? What does it mean to destroy your own body, to end your own life, rather than be complicit in the status quo?
Each passing day of the ongoing genocide in Gaza has felt like a slow erosion of my spirit. A burning ember, once dormant, now ignites within me, threatening to escape me with every Palestinian killed. In classrooms, in hallways, when I am at my serving job, amidst conversations that skirt around Israel’s genocide in Palestine, I'm consumed by an urge to scream—a primal frustration that simmers, threatening to engulf me whole.
Then, amidst the deafening silence of indifference, a solitary figure self-immolated before the Israeli embassy in Atlanta. A nameless martyr, sacrificing themselves in a blaze of defiance. Surely, I thought, this will awaken the world to our plight. Yet, the response is muted, underreported, drowned out by the relentless drumbeat of genocide in Gaza. Tens of thousands more lives lost since then, their stories buried beneath the rubble.
We are dispensable to them.
Last week, I turned to my roommate, searching for solace in shared despair. Do they hear our cries? Do they feel the weight of the suffering as we do, as all Palestinians do? On February 25th, in Aaron Bushnell's sacrifice, I found my answer. It is not just me who feels this way. Self-immolation transcends mere protest; it is the epitome of resistance—a deliberate act of setting one's words ablaze to illuminate the urgency of a cause. It is a choice made with unwavering conviction, a beacon of defiance amidst the darkness. Aaron Bushnell did what every US soldier pretends to do: he gave his life for what he believed in.
Political expression through the sacrifice of one's life is not an act of suicide. Attempts to diminish Aaron Bushnell's protest by labeling it as a result of severe mental illness seek to silence his message. Yet, Aaron was a soldier—a symbol of courage and honor in American society. From birth, Americans are instilled with the belief that dying for the cause of freedom is the highest form of valor. Why is it that Aaron's actions are not revered in the same light?
He died for freedom, screaming Free Palestine to the entire world.
In Arabic, the words that mean to be a martyr and to bear witness are the same: shaheed. Aaron Bushnell, once a witness, decided that he would “no longer be complicit” and he meant it. Thus, we add him to the rolls of February 25th’s martyrs in Gaza. Of the nearly 100 killed: two fishermen shot off the coast of Khan Yunis; seven-year-old Heba Abdin whose home was bombed; and Muhammed al-Zayegh, 60 days old, who died of starvation. We add him to the scrolls of almost 30,000 Palestinians who have been burned at the hands of the genocidal, settler-colonial entity since October 7th. We honor his name as we honor each and every one of our martyrs’ names.
As the flames of resistance continue to burn, may we bear witness to the indomitable spirit of those who refuse to be silenced. In their sacrifice, let us find the courage to raise our voices, to ignite change, and to stand in solidarity with the oppressed. For in the face of tyranny, it is our collective flame that will guide us towards justice.
May Aaron Bushnell’s memory be a blessing.
May his desperation in his call to action not be in vain.
May Palestine be free within our lifetimes.
