"No one can compare us to the apartheid regime. It's not like in South Africa between the blacks and the whites who belong to the same nation, or in Berlin where you find parents living on the eastern side and their children in the western side"
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Shalom’s line is less a defense than a boundary-setting exercise: he’s trying to preempt a comparison that has moral shorthand built into it. “Apartheid” is not just an accusation; it’s a global frame that collapses complexity into a single, radioactive verdict. By insisting “no one can compare us,” he’s arguing that the analogy itself is illegitimate, not merely inaccurate. That’s a strategic move in political language: deny the category, and you don’t have to litigate the details.
The subtext hinges on nationhood and family, two concepts designed to naturalize separation when it’s “between nations” while condemning it when it’s “within one.” South Africa becomes a cautionary tale because black and white South Africans are described as “belong[ing] to the same nation.” Berlin becomes the emotional trigger because it’s not about policy but about human rupture: “parents” and “children” split by a wall. Shalom’s argument implies: our division is different because it’s a conflict between distinct peoples, not a state mistreating its own.
Context matters: Shalom, a mainstream Israeli politician, was speaking into an international debate where human-rights groups and critics increasingly used “apartheid” to describe Israeli control over Palestinians. His rhetoric tries to relocate the conflict from the realm of civil rights (one polity, unequal rules) to geopolitics (two collectives, hard borders). It’s also a tell: Berlin and South Africa are invoked precisely because they’ve become the West’s moral reference points for unacceptable separation. When a politician reaches for those symbols, he’s acknowledging the charge’s power even as he attempts to disarm it.
The subtext hinges on nationhood and family, two concepts designed to naturalize separation when it’s “between nations” while condemning it when it’s “within one.” South Africa becomes a cautionary tale because black and white South Africans are described as “belong[ing] to the same nation.” Berlin becomes the emotional trigger because it’s not about policy but about human rupture: “parents” and “children” split by a wall. Shalom’s argument implies: our division is different because it’s a conflict between distinct peoples, not a state mistreating its own.
Context matters: Shalom, a mainstream Israeli politician, was speaking into an international debate where human-rights groups and critics increasingly used “apartheid” to describe Israeli control over Palestinians. His rhetoric tries to relocate the conflict from the realm of civil rights (one polity, unequal rules) to geopolitics (two collectives, hard borders). It’s also a tell: Berlin and South Africa are invoked precisely because they’ve become the West’s moral reference points for unacceptable separation. When a politician reaches for those symbols, he’s acknowledging the charge’s power even as he attempts to disarm it.
Quote Details
| Topic | Equality |
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