American Death Throes
By Georgia Hayduke • Unz Review • April 18, 2025
If the situation was hopeless, their propaganda would be unnecessary.
– Anonymous
They say the most dangerous animal you can encounter in the wild is one that is dying and cornered. A trapped coyote will lash out and attack you with every fiber of its being, even if it’s mortally wounded. Especially if it’s mortally wounded.
The American Empire and the so-called state of Israel are a pair of conjoined coyotes whose paws are clamped in the jaws of a bear trap, hanging on by a few threads of tendon. In their last gasps of life before they enter the great beyond, in one final adrenaline fueled frenzy, these dogs are lashing out and doing everything in their power to destroy financially, legally, and socially anyone who dares speak out against the crimes they are committing in Palestine. I learned this for myself not too long ago.
On a recent afternoon, I attended a march for Palestine hosted by my school’s chapter of Students for Justice in Palestine. A few days prior, two Saudi national grad students at my school had their student visas revoked for expressing support for the Palestinian cause on their social media. They had taken the first flights back to Saudi Arabia so they could avoid run-ins with the police. These students weren’t thieves or rapists or anything worthy of being expelled over. The only crime these students had committed was daring to speak out against the middle east’s sex offender capital on Instagram. I found the expulsion of these students personally intolerable.
I had never attended a protest before. The SJP had held protests on campus since October 2023, but I hadn’t gone to any because I am a very private person, and I like to keep my identity hidden from individuals and organizations who would see me fired for my political beliefs. I’m a bit of a coward. I’d rather be at home with my roommates making a pot of spaghetti than marching down the street holding a flag. Plus I didn’t want to get beat up by a cop. Anyway, I figured if I could pull off a disguise, and kept my opsec airtight, I could go to a protest and make it home without my name and address plastered all over the canary mission website. My disguise was simple enough: long pants, boots, and a ski mask, with a hoodie and sunglasses to cover my face and hair. Nothing I had on was personally identifiable. I left my phone and bag at home. I just looked like some hobo. I walked to campus instead of driving, and I didn’t put on my disguise until I got to some bushes near the railroad tracks where the SJP was meeting up. I figured the steps I was taking were overkill, but I found out they were not.
The crowd was about what you would expect. A group of muslim students gathered at the front with a wagon with some water bottles and granola bars in it. A group of dysgenic looking transgender students stood to their right, sallow and lanky pink hair flopping around their shoulders. The enemy of my enemy is my friend I suppose. Other groups of generic looking kids stood around them, talking quietly. Ordinary folks. It was heartening to see them. The annoying preacher who stands on the quad everyday yelling about abortion was there too, which struck me as odd. I would have expected him to have a sign reading “Real Patriots Stand With Israel”, but he seemed determined to defy stereotypes. He carried a sign reading “Free Mahmoud Khalil” and wore the Palestinian flag like a cape. There were a few other older adults there as well, including a mother with her baby. The crowd stood about forty strong.
Off to the side stood a small group of shady looking folks with fluorescent green hats on. I made small talk with a skinny young man who stood by me to my left. He’d been to many protests before, and wasn’t surprised by the makeup of the crowd. New people like me show up every time. I asked him about the green hatted crowd, and he told me that they were marshals whose job was to monitor any policemen who showed up. They were from a police brutality watchdog organization. This was necessary since the time the police savagely beat protesters on UNC’s campus about a year ago. Footage of the cops dragging a girl across the ground by her hair is publicly available. This reaction was obviously serious overkill, and hadn’t been seen at other student protests on UNC’s campus in years past. The Black Lives Matter protests of 2020, while rowdy, had a very subdued police presence. I do not recall anyone getting their hair ripped out by the po-po in 2020. There is one key difference between the attempted race riots of 2020 and the protests for Palestine of today: the protests for Palestine are actually threatening to the powers that be.
We marched in a loop across campus. We went from the student union, to the historic district, to the library, and back to the student union. Overall I’d say we covered about a mile of ground. We had supporters. There’s a large Arab population close to campus, and we’d see Arab guys roll down the windows of their cars and cheer for us. It felt nice to have some people on our side. The trouble that showed up took the form of a small group of nasally enhanced individuals wearing sunglasses who joined our march when we reached the historic district. This group was composed of a bunch of creeps wearing dark clothes and ballcaps, who would slink into the crowd and attempt to covertly take photos of the marchers with phone cameras up their sleeve. I asked my lanky comrade about these freaks, and he told me the ADL hires people, usually Hillel students, to monitor student social media related to Palestine. These losers go to all SJP marches, and they try to dox students that go to them. Completely covering my face and body wasn’t overkill at all. They also try to bait people into losing their cool and punching them, catching assault charges. Little digs to try and ruin the lives of anyone standing against them.
As we were walking, the skinny young man pointed out a loud girl standing at the front of the group. She had on a keffiyeh, and her hair was in a slicked back blonde ponytail. She walked in the street a lot, and the muslim students seemed leery of her. “That’s a fed.” he whispered. “What makes you think that?” I asked. “She’s way older than everyone, and she’s wearing cop sneakers. Ten bucks says she’ll try to get someone to act violent later.” I kept watch on that girl. I had no reason to trust the skinny guy, but better safe than sorry.
Another paranoia inducing character was the driver of a certain grey Dodge Charger with tinted windows that followed the march the entire time we made our way across campus. It is common knowledge that the Dodge Charger has replaced the Crown Victoria as the car of choice for smokey and friends, so I immediately thought it to be an undercover cop. The rest of the crowd came to this conclusion independently. The muslim kids thought it was someone from the ADL coming to take pictures of us. Either was possible, or it could have been some rando. At least I hope it was a rando, and we were being paranoid for no reason. But the loop that car took was not a logical loop. He stayed right behind us the whole time and made no stops. Being leery of him was a smart move.
When we got back to the student union, still eyeing the Dodge Charger, the loud blonde girl spoke up. “That’s a cop no doubt!” She said, a little too loud. “Let’s throw bricks at it!” Her behavior was cartoonish. She was acting in a bizarrely scripted fashion, like a parody of an antifa thug. None of her words felt organic or genuine. If anyone was a fed at that march, it was her. I stayed far away. I walked home as discreetly as possible, thinking about what I saw.
I had a few takeaways from this experience. For one, I was shocked by the amount of effort, time, and money being put into ruining the lives of college students by organizations like the ADL and Uncle Sam. If I hadn’t seen for myself groups of shady thugs trying to get photos of and pick fights with students who have the nerve to stand up to the American Empire, I wouldn’t have believed it if you told me. Especially due to the small scale of this protest. We never left campus, and the crowd was small, especially compared to previous marches, which went directly to the state capitol building. But the powers that be decided that this goofy little crowd was a threat. This group of awkward college students and aging boomers is of top priority for the state. Not murderers, not robbers, but a bunch of kids trying to pass calculus. Really makes you think.
This experience also taught me that there is hope. The ADL and the feds wouldn’t be putting so much effort into crushing dissidence if they weren’t scared. The idea that there are Americans out there who don’t buy the propaganda pushed on us every day, from every angle, from every movie and news source since birth keeps the ADL up at night in a cold sweat. All I can say now is this: Get mad. Get even. Don’t let them see your face. They’re scared. Give them a reason to be.
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