u/Chinoyboii

Given the historical context of Muhammad, he lived during a time in which the various pagan tribes, Jews, Christians, and Sabians (Potentially, Mandeans). Judaism and Christianity already possessed older scriptural traditions, prophetic lineages, legal frameworks, and transregional religious authority.

From a secular historical perspective, I am wondering whether Muhammad’s prophetic claim can be understood partly as an attempt to place Arabs directly within the Abrahamic legacy, not by converting them to Judaism or Christianity, but by presenting them as heirs to Abraham through Ishmael, the Kaaba, and an Arabic revelation. Muhammad, within the context of his relationship with the Jews, seemed to be displeased with the notion that Jews rejected his prophetic career; this rejection was not just a theological disagreement, but also a challenge to the legitimacy of his movement, since Jewish communities already possessed an older scriptural tradition, a developed ethnoreligious legal culture, and a long prophetic lineage.

It seems like the Quran has taken many elements from Jewish and Christian scriptures, such as its focus on making the religious movement not tied to one’s ethnicity, somewhat like Christianity and unlike Judaism, while still retaining a strong Abrahamic genealogy through Ishmael. Given that, it seems like Islam attempts to universalize access to God while also giving Arabs a central role within the Abrahamic tradition.

As a result, I am wondering if early Islam should be understood as both a universalist monotheistic movement and an Arab-centered Abrahamic restoration movement. On one hand, the Quran rejects the idea that salvation or righteousness depends purely on lineage, tribe, or inherited communal identity. On the other hand, it also places major importance on the Arab revelation, Muhammad as an Arab prophet, and the Kaaba as an Abrahamic sanctuary associated with Ishmael.

Would it be fair to say that Islam did not simply imitate Judaism or Christianity, but reworked elements from both traditions into a new religious framework? Christianity had already universalized the Abrahamic God beyond the Jewish ethnoreligious/ethno-tribal context, but it did so through Jesus, the Church, and often Greek, Syriac, Latin, or imperial Christian institutions. Islam, by contrast, seems to universalize Abrahamic monotheism through an Arab revelation and an Arab prophet, while rejecting both rabbinic Jewish law as binding on Arabs and Christian doctrines such as the Trinity and incarnation.

So I guess my broader question is whether Muhammad’s movement can be seen as a response to the religious world he was living in. Jews and Christians already had ancient scriptures, prophets, legal traditions, and broader religious prestige, while Arabian polytheists did not really have that same kind of recognized scriptural authority.

I know that Islam is a proselytizing religion not tied to any specific ethnicity or race, as many of my peers and people in my life are Muslim; however, I am asking more about its original historical formation. Even if Islam eventually became a universal religion, did it initially emerge in a way that gave Arabs a direct scriptural and Abrahamic identity of their own?

Within the Jewish tradition, the concept of the Messiah differs from the Christian view of it, as their concept of the Messiah is a person who is fully human, from the paternal bloodline of King David, who would rebuild the Temple, bring the Jewish people from the diaspora back to the Holy Land, and help usher in an age of peace, justice, and knowledge of god. In the Christian tradition, the concept of the Messiah is understood very differently, as Christians believe Jesus is the Messiah because he fulfills the promises of Israel in a deeper spiritual and cosmic sense, in contrast to the more national, political, and earthly expectations often associated with the Jewish understanding of the Messiah. In other words, from a Christian perspective, Jesus represents a metaphysical temple, the restoration of Israel is expanded to include the salvation of the nations, and the messianic age is understood through his life, death, resurrection, and eventual return.

Despite the two differing definitions of what it means to be the Messiah, Judaism and Christianity have in common that the Messiah is the final, climactic figure, after which there will be no more prophets or new revelations that would supersede his role in God’s plan. In Judaism, the Messiah is expected to complete the restoration of the land of Israel and usher in the messianic age. In Christianity, Jesus is understood as the fulfillment of Israel’s hopes and the decisive figure through whom God redeems humanity.

I find the Islamic use of the title al-masih interesting, as Islam calls Jesus the Messiah, but it does not seem to define the term in either the Jewish or Christian sense. Muslims do not believe Jesus is divine, the Son of God, or the redeemer of humanity through crucifixion and resurrection. At the same time, Islam does not treat Jesus as the final prophet, since Muhammad is considered the Seal of the Prophets.

What I am trying to ask is what exactly al-Masih means in Islam, and whether it is mainly a title of honor for Jesus, a reference to his being specially chosen by God, his miracles, his mission to the Children of Israel, or his role in the end times? Since Jesus is uniquely called al-Masih, why does that title not imply that prophecy reaches its climax or conclusion with him, as the title “Messiah” seems to convey in Judaism and Christianity?

Personally, I do think so, and usually their reasoning is quite justified because talking about such things could lead to providing conservative fascists with more ammo in othering populations different from their own, especially those who come from the Christian West, who many of you already know are the leading contenders for the present injustices going on right now, both domestically and internationally. However, I do think this can create a problem in which historical complexity is flattened for political convenience.

I understand why people are cautious. If someone brings up slavery in the Islamic world, Native American societies owning enslaved people, or the sexual enslavement of Circassian women in the Ottoman Empire, it is fair to ask what their intention is. Are they trying to understand history honestly, or are they trying to deflect from European colonialism, the transatlantic slave trade, Indigenous genocide, and modern Western imperialism?

However, I also think there has to be room to discuss these histories without automatically assuming bad faith. I consider myself a person who operates within a deontological framework, specifically when it comes to analyzing history, and not my personal politics, which is more oriented towards utilitarianism, meaning that I think certain actions are wrong regardless of who commits them, even if the broader political context changes how we understand power, responsibility, and consequences.

For example, slavery, sexual exploitation, ethnic domination, forced conversion, conquest, and patriarchy are morally wrong whether they are committed by Europeans, Muslims, Indigenous societies, Chinese, Jews, Christians, atheists, socialists, monarchies, empires, or colonized peoples. That doesn't obviously mean historical context matters. Scale matters. I am not saying that every form of harm is identical or that all societies have caused harm in exactly the same way. However, I do think our moral analysis becomes weaker when we only acknowledge oppression when it fits a politically convenient narrative. Like, for example, I have been recently associating with some of my Christian peers, and they consider me to be a breath of fresh air when it comes to discussing history and politics because I am willing to condemn the historic wrongs of Christian societies without acting as if Christians are uniquely evil people, or as if Christianity is the only civilization/religion/culture that has ever produced domination, conquest, or hierarchy.

At the same time, I do not want to become the kind of person conservatives use as a token to say, “See, the West was not that bad,” because that is not what I believe. The Christian West has committed enormous harm through colonialism. Christianity in the Philippines, for those who do not know, was initially introduced through violent means, especially during the various stages of warfare between my pagan ancestors and the Spanish Empire. However, Spanish colonial rule in the Philippines did not operate exactly like settler colonialism in much of Latin America. The Philippines was not a migratory colony in the same way; large numbers of Spaniards did not permanently settle and replace the native population. Instead, much of the long-term work of Christianization was carried out by priests and religious orders who embedded themselves into local communities, interacted with various Indigenous groups, and would slowly convert the natives by syncretizing Christianity with our pagan beliefs (still very common til this day). So even in my own background, I can recognize both the violence of Christian colonialism and the complicated ways colonized people adapted, transformed, and indigenized what was imposed on them.

How do we talk about the full complexity of history without giving ammunition to reactionaries?

What are your thoughts?

So growing up in a Catholic household and attending Catholic school and Bible study during my primary and secondary school years, I have not personally met Christian Filipinos who held explicitly antisemitic beliefs, other than the “positive racism” stereotype that Jews, similar to the Han Chinese, are supposedly extremely good at business, education, finance, and other fields associated with high achievement. Obviously, even “positive” stereotypes are still racialized and can become harmful, but I did not personally grow up around the kind of overt Christian antisemitism that one might associate with older European Christian traditions, such as blood libel, deicide accusations, forced conversions, or conspiracy theories about Jews controlling society.

However, as I moved to the United States and became more associated with my American counterparts, it seems their views on the Jews vary depending on what denomination, what priest, what pastor, what saint, and what church they belong/asscoiate with. From the American Catholics I've associated with, it seems that those who are proponents of Vatican II seem to hold the stance that the Jewish people are still deeply connected to god, that Jews should not be collectively blamed for the death of Jesus, and that Judaism should be treated as a living ethnoreligious tradition rather than simply as a “failed” or obsolete precursor to Christianity. In contrast, I've met Catholic Christians who hate Vatican II and seem to think of Jews as a thorn to their beliefs, as many of them believe Christianity supersedes Judaism, as Jesus of Nazareth has accomplished the mission that they believe ancient Israel was meant to fulfill.

In regard to the Orthodox Christians I've associated with in the past (literally just 2 people, one is Serbian and one is Russian), they just straight up believe that the Jews are an evil people, and that they're the reason why Jesus was crucified. In response, I will tell them that it was the Western Roman Empire that technically killed Jesus, and it was the Pharisees who persuaded them to do so; however, I will also note that theologically, Jesus needed to die for Christianity’s own salvation narrative to make sense. So it never made sense to me when Christians blamed Jews collectively for the crucifixion, because from a Christian theological perspective, Jesus’ death is supposed to be part of God’s redemptive plan, not a reason to condemn an entire people group across history. In addition, apparently telling them that Yeshua Ben Yosef was Jewish is irrelevant because from their perspective, he was the perfect Jew in contrast to others.

Over the years, I have studied Christian Anti-Semitism and how it played out prior to the Great Schism, through the development of Catholicism, Eastern Orthodoxy, Protestantism, and eventually modern Christian movements. Obviously, I am not saying every Christian tradition expressed antisemitism in the same way, but there do seem to be recurring patterns: supersessionism, accusations that Jews rejected or killed Christ, the portrayal of Judaism as legalistic or spiritually dead, and the tendency to treat Jews as theological symbols rather than as a living ethnoreligious people.

Within the context of Islam, and having grown up with some Muslim Filipinos in the motherland, in addition to spending my time in Arab-Muslim circles for a long time since moving to the States, antisemitism seems to derive from two points: one theological and one related to the Israel-Palestine conflict. From a theological perspective, my former peers would often cite the Battle of Khaybar, as well as hadiths such as Sahih Muslim 2922 and Sahih al-Bukhari 2925/2926, which describe an end-times battle where Muslims will have to fight the Jews and that the Jews will hide behind stones or trees except for the gharqad tree. In addition, I have been told that Jews kill their prophets. I believe this is in relation to John the Baptist and his father Zakariah, and Muhammad, who was reportedly poisoned by a Yemenite Jewish woman named Zaynab bint al-Harith, who wanted revenge for her husband, father, and uncle during the Battle of Khaybar.

That being said, I was told by some of my Muslim peers that the Battle of Khaybar was not anti-semitic in origin, but should be read within the context of Muhammad’s conflict with the Banu Nadir, a Jewish clan that had originally lived in Medina before being expelled and relocating to Khaybar. In Islamic sources, the Banu Nadir are often accused of plotting against Muhammad, including an alleged assassination attempt, and later of helping organize opposition to the Muslim community. So from a sociopolitical perspective, Khaybar was not a war against the Jews as an eternal people, but a political and military conflict against specific groups who were viewed as hostile to Muhammad’s community. Unfortunately, some of my former peers do not take this interpretation the same way, as they believe it represents a larger religious precedent for Muslim hostility toward Jews as a people and often treat it as proof that Jews are inherently treacherous, hostile to Muslims, or destined to be defeated during the day of judgment.

As a side hobby, I have been rereading the Bible and have already bought a study version of the Quran to better understand this topic; however, I want to know your thoughts.

For those who may not be familiar with the late Sadiq Jalal al-Azm, he was a professor at the University of Damascus and was a visiting professor at Princeton University, where he taught Kantian Philosophy and Near East Studies. Sadiq Jalal al-Azm was a Marxist with a strong focus on secularism, rational criticism, anti-authoritarianism, and the political/intellectual failures of the modern Arab world. One of his articles, "Orientalism in Reverse," shares his analysis of the late Edward Said's critique of Orientalism while also warning against a reverse form of essentialism.

From my understanding, Sadiq did not deny that Orientalism, racism, colonialism, and Western imperialism were real, as he understood that Western scholars, states, and colonial institutions often portrayed Arabs, Muslims, and “the East” through racist and essentialist stereotypes that many of us are aware of, such as irrational, backward, despotic, overly religious, passive, or incapable of self-government. However, he also argued that some Arab, Muslim, or anti-imperialist thinkers responded to Orientalism by simply reversing the binary. Instead of saying “the West is rational and the East is irrational,” they would say something like “the West is inherently materialist, imperialist, soulless, and corrupt, while the East, Islam, or the Arab world is inherently authentic, spiritual, communal, and liberatory.

As someone originally from Southeast Asia and who grew up in both a Chinese and Filipino cultural context, I agree with Edward Said's notion that American conservative academics have long viewed precolonial or non-Western societies through a civilizational hierarchy, in which the natives of the conquered land are deemed incapable of developing modern political institutions without Western intervention. However, due to such academics utilizing an orientalist framework in their scholarship of non-Western societies, some Western leftist academics have responded by over-romanticizing precolonial, non-Western societies as inherently more communal, egalitarian, spiritual, or liberatory.

In the context of Sadiq’s article, I think the danger of what he calls “Orientalism in reverse” becomes clear; if we respond to Orientalism by simply asserting that the West is evil and the East is pure, then we have not actually escaped the Orientalist framework. We have only reversed the moral judgment. Instead of treating non-Western societies as fully human, historically complex, and politically diverse, we end up turning them into symbols for Western guilt, anti-Western authenticity, or revolutionary fantasy. That being said, I want to reiterate that I am neither a Western apologist nor am I a sole believer that the ills of non-Western societies are inherently due to Western hegemony alone. Personally, I think that such framing can be intellectually limiting because it removes agency from non-Western societies and treats them as merely acted upon, rather than as societies with their own internal challenges.

At the same time, I do not want to minimize the ways in which Western powers have actively shaped the political and economic conditions of much of the world. The point is not to deny Western responsibility. The point is to avoid turning the West and the East into fixed moral categories where one side is always corrupt and the other is always innocent. Sadiq’s ideas about Islam within the context of “Orientalism in reverse” were also rooted in this concern. He was critical of the idea that Islam, the East, or the Arab world should be treated as a single timeless essence that explains everything about those societies. He was not denying that Islam matters historically, culturally, or politically. Rather, he was warning against turning Islam into an all-purpose explanation for why Muslim societies are the way they are, whether that explanation comes from Western Orientalists or from anti-Western thinkers who romanticize Islam as inherently authentic and liberatory.

I think his critique is useful for left-wing discussions today. It reminds us that we can criticize Western imperialism while also recognizing that non-Western societies have their own internal problems, hierarchies, and forms of domination. Otherwise, anti-imperialism can turn into campism, where the only thing that matters is whether someone is against the West. Al-Azm was not writing only about Palestine/Israel; however, I do think his warning can apply to parts of that discourse, as it can develop a stronger form of activism that does not rely on essentialist thinking.

What are your thoughts?

I have a question about how Muslims understand the Quran within the context of history, earlier Abrahamic traditions, and the historical-critical method. From my understanding, the Hebrew Bible and the New Testament are not purely historical texts. A lot of the material within them is theological, legendary, mythic, symbolic, or shaped by later interpretation. I am not trying to pretend that the Bible is just straightforward history. I personally see the Bible as largely a mix of myth, legend, theology, and some elements of historical accuracy. However, even with that in mind, some elements within the Hebrew Bible and New Testament seem to align with the historical record, such as the existence of Israelite and Judahite kingdoms (they were more like tribal polities), the Babylonian exile, Persian and Hellenistic imperial influence, Second Temple Jewish developments, Roman rule in Judea, the existence of figures like Herod and Pontius Pilate, the practice of crucifixion, and the broader first-century Jewish context in which Jesus and the early Jesus movement emerged.

From what I understand about the Quran, whenever they talk about the Jews and Christians within the context of earlier revelation, it often presents itself as confirming the original message given to figures like Moses, Jesus, and the earlier prophets, while also correcting what Muslims believe were later misunderstandings, distortions, or theological developments within Jewish and Christian traditions. At the same time, from an external historical perspective, it sometimes seems that the Quran does not always preserve direct historical memory of ancient Israel, Second Temple Judaism, or early Christianity in the same way that the Hebrew Bible and New Testament are rooted in those contexts. Instead, the Quran often appears to engage with late-antique Jewish, Christian, Syriac, and other monotheistic storyworlds circulating in the broader Near Eastern religious environment.

It seems that the Quran retells stories about Abrahamic figures (e.g, Moses, Pharaoh, Mary, Jesus, and others), but sometimes in ways that do not align neatly with earlier Jewish and Christian traditions or modern historical reconstruction. This is not necessarily unique to Islam, since Judaism and Christianity also reinterpret earlier traditions. However, I am curious about how Muslims understand this issue within their own theological framework, and I would also like to know your personal thoughts on the matter.

What are your thoughts?

According to current scholarship on the life of Jesus, we do know that he existed due to references in early Christian sources, as well as non-Christian sources such as Josephus and Tacitus. However, when it comes to the details of his life, teachings, and the historical reliability of the Gospel narratives, things become opaque. With that in mind, I was wondering about the significance of Jesus choosing 12 disciples/apostles. Since Jesus was a Jewish teacher operating within a Second Temple Jewish context, I assume the number 12 was not random.

From what we understand from the Bible, we know that Peter, Andrew, James, John, Philip, Bartholomew, Thomas, Matthew, James son of Alphaeus, Thaddaeus/Jude, Simon the Zealot, and Judas Iscariot are listed as the Twelve, though the lists vary slightly depending on the Gospel or New Testament text. I understand that not every detail about each disciple can be historically verified with the same level of confidence, and that some traditions about them developed later.

I know that Jesus originally intended to make his movement oriented towards his fellow Jews, or at least that his ministry seems to have been primarily directed toward Israel within a Second Temple Jewish context. With that in mind, my question is more about the symbolism of the group itself. Is there a connection between the 12 disciples of Jesus and the 12 tribes of Israel, such as Reuben, Simeon, Levi, Judah, Dan, Naphtali, Gad, Asher, Issachar, Zebulun, Joseph/Ephraim/Manasseh, and Benjamin? Was Jesus symbolically presenting his movement as a renewal, restoration, or reconstitution of Israel? If so, how does that fit with the later development of Christianity into a largely Gentile movement, especially if Jesus’ own ministry was primarily directed toward his fellow Jews?

Thank You

So, despite being an agnostic-atheist, I was raised a Christian (Catholic), and attended Christian schools when I was a child. At least within the context of Filipino Catholicism in conjunction with our Southeast Asian collectivist/communitarian nature, there is a belief that chasing materialistic things is the same thing as idol worship, as it distracts us from the more important things in life, which are family, community, and god. Even though I don't believe in a metaphysical understanding of the universe, nor do I support many of the Bible's religious laws to be commonplace, as many of them I see as anti-ethical to the human condition, my Filipino upbringing has more or less taught me that human beings are not meant to live purely for themselves. We have obligations to our family, community, and the people around us, especially those who are poor, vulnerable, or marginalized.

Therefore, I have always found it strange how many Christians (specifically Catholics & Orthodox Christians) can claim to reject materialism, greed, excessive wealth, and idol worship, but then support politicians, policies, or economic systems that seem to uphold the exact opposite of those values. I understand that not every Christian thinks the same way, but there seems to be a contradiction between the moral teachings I grew up around and the political/economic choices many religious people make.

I recently caught up with a religious Christian friend (She is socially conservative, but anti-capitalist) to share with her my thoughts, and she expressed that it has to do with the Western left's straying away from traditional moral and religious frameworks. From her perspective, some religious Christians may feel politically alienated from the left because, even if they agree with critiques of capitalism, they feel like the left is hostile to religion, tradition, family, or social conservatism. I can understand that to some extent, but I still find the contradiction difficult to ignore, especially when the economic policies they support often seem to harm the very poor, vulnerable, and marginalized people their religious traditions tell them to care about.

I harbor such ill feelings towards the wealthy/rich, as my Chinese side of my family, as a result of our Confucian background, sees things like status, prestige, and wealth as determined by the will of heaven (天), and that the poor, the disabled, and the lay person are seen as lower within the social hierarchy due to being born "spiritually unclean", being born into the "wrong clan", etc. At the same time, my Filipino Catholic side sees excessive wealth and materialism as spiritually dangerous, especially when it distracts people from family, community, humility, and responsibility towards the marginalized. So I feel like I grew up with two conflicting frameworks: one that understands why people chase status, prestige, and success, and another that is deeply suspicious of wealth when it becomes detached from compassion, obligation, and communal care.

You guys know I am not Jewish, but I was wondering if something similar exists within religious Jewish circles. From my limited understanding, Judaism has strong teachings on justice, charity (tzedakah), communal responsibility, helping the poor, and not exploiting others. However, I wanted to know your guys' thoughts on this.

Thank You

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what people mean when they describe themselves as “nuanced” politically. Sometimes it seems like people use "nuance" to mean a more detailed version of their side’s position, rather than being willing to seriously wrestle with tensions, contradictions, or uncomfortable truths within their own framework. In other words, someone can have a lot of complexity within a particular political lane, yet think in binary terms when someone questions the deeper assumptions of that lane.

Recently, I have been going through a friendship cleanse because I can't really be around people who require me to flatten my politics to be considered “safe” or morally acceptable. I don’t mean that I expect everyone to agree with me, and I don’t think nuance means avoiding moral clarity. There are obviously situations where one side has more power, where harm is unequal, and where injustice needs to be named clearly (Like we can clearly agree that Israel has the most systemic/military power backed by the West, which has historically dismantled the rise of leftist movements in the global south). However, when it comes to things like China and Taiwan, Jews and Palestinians, and other hot topics, I find it saddening when I see leftists treat complexity as betrayal. For example, someone may rightly criticize U.S. imperialism, but then treat China as if it is only a victim of Western aggression and not also a state with its own power, ambitions, and capacity to harm others. Similarly, someone may rightly support Palestinian liberation, but then treat Jewish history, Jewish peoplehood, or Jewish attachment to the land as if it is automatically fake, manipulative, or morally irrelevant.

I’ve been called a centrist on a few occasions because I don’t see China as morally better than the West when it comes to human rights violations. Yes, the West has caused tremendous death and destruction, arguably on a larger global scale. But China, the homeland of my ancestors, has also committed serious harms. Yes, I understand that the material conditions of many people in China have improved greatly since the revolution. That matters, and I don’t want to dismiss it. But improvements in material conditions do not erase authoritarianism, repression, or state violence. I don’t think acknowledging that makes someone a centrist or a reactionary. I also struggle with leftist arguments that Taiwan should “reunify” with China under the pretext of anti-imperialism. I understand why people criticize U.S. influence in the region, and I am not trying to romanticize American power. However, I don’t think opposition to U.S. imperialism should mean dismissing the agency of Taiwanese people or treating them as pawns whose future should be decided by a larger state. Anti-imperialism should not become a justification for denying self-determination when the power doing the denying is not Western.

I also don’t share the same view about Jews as some of my former comrades/peers, who believe that any discussion of Jewish peoplehood, Jewish history, or Jewish connection to the land is automatically Zionist propaganda. To be clear, I am not saying this to excuse occupation, apartheid, displacement, or the suffering of Palestinians. I strongly believe Palestinian liberation matters. But I also don’t think Palestinian liberation requires denying that Jews are a people with their own history, memory, trauma, and relationship to the land, which many of you know about me.

Somewhat related, but I recently had a discussion with a fellow Filipino colleague who basically admitted that he was and still is a Duterte supporter because, even though Duterte’s drug war killed thousands of substance users and suspected substance users regardless of age, the fact that Duterte was anti-American during his presidential term supposedly justified the collateral damage. That deeply disturbed me because we both work in mental health.

I understand anti-American sentiment, especially given U.S. imperialism in the Philippines and the Global South more broadly. However, I don’t think being anti-American automatically makes a leader liberatory, progressive, or morally defensible. A leader can oppose the U.S. and still brutalize poor people, substance users, political opponents, journalists, and vulnerable communities. Anti-imperialism should not mean excusing state violence just because the state committing it is not aligned with the West.

TDLR:

I guess what I’m trying to say is that nuance doesn’t mean being neutral. Nuance, IMO, means being able to call out injustice clearly without turning entire groups of people, histories, or political conflicts into simple “good side vs. bad side” narratives. I’ve been struggling with political spaces where being anti-Western sometimes turns into defending non-Western authoritarianism, or where supporting liberation means pretending another people’s history or humanity does not matter. How do you all define nuance without falling into false equivalence or rigid binaries?

Side thing: I have also been rethinking my 2SS stance as of late, and I am still tentative about where I land. I don’t think a 1SS is realistic right now because there is too much trauma, distrust, and fear between both peoples, as I've told many of you in the past. At the same time, I’m struggling with whether a 2SS can actually produce justice if it merely freezes existing inequalities between two separate political entities. I still lean toward some kind of political separation in the short term for safety reasons, but I don’t want that to become a permanent excuse for inequality, segregation, or denying either people’s connection to the land.