The revolt of the Invisible Children

The unconscious drivers of pro-Palestine activism

We are all part of a global dysfunctional family system called the human race, the microcosm of which is our own family system. What we see playing out in the world is largely a reflection of what we see play out in families everyday.

For example, the Russia-Ukraine war can be described as a dysfunctional father-son relationship. The controlling, abusive father gave his son everything only to be betrayed by his son when he decided to forge his own path instead of pursuing his father’s vision of territorial domination. The father, enraged by his son’s poor judgement that led him to become influenced by the wrong crowd that now threatens to ruin the father’s legacy, punishes the son by systemically destroying his inheritance. The father’s aim is to make his son see that he’s powerless without his father so that he will submit and beg for his father’s forgiveness.

Our stories reflect our roles in the family, shaped by our experiences, self-image, emotions, and memories. While each family member has their own version, there's a shared "family story" everyone is expected to tell. Each family member plays out archetypes from ancient stories and mythologies transmitted intergenerationally and that exist in our collective consciousness, often without awareness that we are typecast players in a cosmic drama.

Like many around the world, I have been observing the drama involving Westerners of different backgrounds and the various responses to what happened in Israel on Oct 7, 2023, specifically of those who pledge allegiance to the Pro-Palestine movement.

The question I have been pondering is this:

Why would anyone from Western, privileged (ie. middle class to affluent) background feel a strong connection to Palestinians, specifically children in Gaza via the Pro-Palestine movement, including a vocal anti-Israel stance, while remaining silent about the atrocities unfolding in Yemen, Sudan, Congo, North Korea, Iran, and other nations that use women and children for war and punishment?

This movement connects people from different nations, ethnicities - including Jews and Palestinian Muslims - who have been in Western countries for at least one generation, while also repelling the same members of these groups. What are the differences among Jews, for instance, who are Pro-Palestine (via the movement) and those who are not?

The answer transcends moral posturing, hypocrisy, elite luxury beliefs, and prioritizing causes by perceived severity.

We can search for answers in the prototype of our worldview, found in our myths and family stories. As I said, we are all part of a global dysfunctional family system -the human race - and our own families reflect this microcosm. Ignoring the uncomfortable truths about our roles in this system is a missed opportunity for growth.

A popular framework for analysing family stories is the Narcissistic Family System, a dysfunctional family with clearly defined roles. I wrote about the Narcissistic Family System a few years ago when I realised it was an important framework to help my clients draw parallels between the dysfunction unfolding in their non-family relationships held in the dynamics that exist within their own family system. The strong, vocal, dramatic, and at times violent pro-Palestine protests in Western countries since October 7, 2023, coupled with the demonization of Israel and pro-Israel supporters, beckons a deeper investigation, which I will attempt here.

You are about to read an analysis based on a specific framework. This is not 'the truth,' but rather one perspective. It explores parallels and patterns that have led to a theory about pro-Palestine activists, with the hope of sparking reflection and thoughtful discussion.

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Photo by Manny Becerra on Unsplash

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The children of the Narcissistic Family System

The three main roles of children in the Narcissistic Family System are the Golden Child, the Black Sheep and the Invisible Child. The way each of these roles manifest in a family is dependant on the number of children in the family, the family make up, birth order, the temperament of the child, and the degree of malignancy and grandiosity the narcissistic parent occupies in the narcissism spectrum.

Everyone wants to be the Golden Child. The Golden Child is cherished, protected from herself and from accountability, favoured, attractive, and perceived as the God/Goddess herself. She is all the goodness and wonder that can be poured into a person from the perspective of the Narcissistic Parent. Everyone wants to get close to the Golden Child so that her greatness and power can rub off on them. She makes the family look good and reflects all the attributes that are idealised by the Narcissistic parent. The Golden Child can express this role in various ways. She can:

• exploit her position of status and privilege (and make the lives of those who threaten her reign hell).

• reject the honour due to the pressure of having strings attached.

• deny inequality is present among her siblings while reaping the benefits of her status.

• be the people pleaser always striving for validation from the Narcissistic Parent.

• become demoted through disgrace to the family’s honour, making room for another sibling to take her place.

In society, the Golden Child is whoever is chosen for glory and greatness through lineage, merit, or good character. In today’s world, the Chosen can also be mediocre, incompetent, unattractive, uncharismatic, unintelligent, aggressive, and/or of poor character.

The Black Sheep embodies everything devalued and demonized by the Narcissistic parent in a single person. They are blamed by the parents when a conflict arises with the Golden Child, and are expected to apologise to a self-important Golden Child. Once they realise they will never do anything right to gain favour of the Narcissistic parent, they can become rebellious, self-destructive, and disruptive of the family dynamic for attention. The Black Sheep is often seen as the family pattern breaker and the wounded healer. This role is only briefly mentioned here, as the focus will now shift to the Invisible Child (at last!).

The Invisible Child

The Invisible Child is hidden in the background to stay safe or is simply forgotten. The Invisible Child has no power in the family dynamic to create change and is often ignored, neglected and afraid of drawing attention to herself due to fear of punishment. She keeps a low profile by staying out of the Narcissistic Parent and Ally’s way, avoiding family conflicts, and spending much of her time alone to avoid witnessing injustices. She tends to be a loner within the family system and can fail to develop communication skills that would effectively give her a voice and power to disrupt the family system. By concealing her true emotions, the Invisible Child prevents attracting negative attention and is thus not perceived as a threat to the Narcissistic Parent or any other family member’s position in the hierarchy. She might take an opportunity to step up as the Caretaker or Peacekeeper to be useful when there is a gap in the system (ie. the Golden Child is away) but this can be risky if the Golden Child feels threatened by the attention the Invisible Child gains from being helpful.

Sometimes the Invisible Child becomes aware of the dysfunction and turns to education as a way to create opportunities to escape the system and break free from dependence on unreliable family members. To do this, she will gain recognition for her efforts with authorities outside of the family while keeping a low profile about her accomplishments to avoid stealing attention from the Golden Child or the Black Sheep. She becomes protective of her feelings at home and can intentionally or unknowingly use a combination of gray rock and medium chill strategies to seem uninteresting and uninterested, ensuring the spotlight remains on others.

Some Invisible Children see themselves as the Black Sheep and craft a narrative that places them as a more central figure in the family drama than they truly are. They lack a clear identity because they never internalised the good child or bad child archetypes. Instead, they become mosaics of both prominent roles and act as chameleons to survive in different situations. If they’re the outcast, they will believe they are the rebellious Black Sheep. They will revel in their role of the disruptor of the family status quo while occasionally demonstrating their desire to behave and attain the prestige of the Golden Child. They will also feel jealous of the Golden Child and believe that they are the overlooked, yet rightful Golden Child. An enlightened Black Sheep and Invisible Child would be aware of the pressures on the Golden Child and feel grateful not to be in their position.

It’s important to note that there is not one type of Invisible Child, even if a father is the Narcissistic Parent in random samples of families. The way the Invisible Child expresses the role is dependent on the family system. An Invisible Child can:

• be intelligent but think they’re stupid until someone with influence and authority outside of the immediate family acknowledges their value, aiding identity formation.

• be the Vindictive Outcasts (toxic type 1) who envy/hate the Golden Child and seek out ways to gain status outside of the family system through gaming the system and socially ascending without merit. They are good copycats and Knowledge Vampires, effective at selling a vision without the competence to execute it (but are convinced they do). They subtly fuel conflict among family members to sow division while acting like the innocent victim who wants to stay out of it. These Invisible Children with malignant narcissistic tendencies are masterminds of destruction, not innovation.

• be the Quiet Victim (toxic type 2) who express covert narcissistic traits through feeling superior to others while hiding behind their façade of victimhood. They feel deep resentment toward everyone in the family for being overlooked and undervalued by not having their greatness acknowledged. This Quiet Victim uses a passive-aggressive approach to air their grievances, awaiting acknowledgement of their suffering or injustice they’ve endured. They are also adept at manipulating others subtly by playing the role of martyr to attract sympathy, attention, and support while feeling superior to them. Another way to get attention is to portray the misunderstood genius who keeps an air of mystery and discomfort about their exaggerated past.

• be the Unsung Hero (toxic type 3) by being the voice of the voiceless and offering to uplift the invisibles of society. They can often express their communal narcissism as Social Injustice Warriors, using their selflessness for validation, gaining admiration, and social status. Their virtuous efforts gives them automatic moral superiority, putting them above reproach, even when their actions hurt others or when they are angered for insufficient validation of their selfless efforts.

While everyone pays the most attention to the Golden Child (because let’s face it - we either want to be one or be like one) and can acknowledge the special magic of the Black Sheep, the Invisible Child is unsurprisingly ignored. I began to really notice what was going on with Invisible Children in my friends and clients who played that role in their family system. Many assume they’re the Black Sheep and lack clarity about their identity because they are so overlooked and hidden behind the more prominent figures in the family. As Invisible Children are so overlooked and underestimated, few really analyse the various manifestations of the Invisible Child (or Lost child in other frameworks) because they are assumed to fly under the radar and not make a fuss. This is mostly true except when many come together for a specific cause.

The Toxic Invisible Child (a blend of toxic types 1-3) represents those who have been overlooked by their family or the society they tried to assimilate into, yet refuse to take responsibility for improving their circumstances, using their resources instead for control and domination.

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Other losers… exalt in their status as outcasts. These are the laziest and most mediocre of children, manufactured today by the world in their millions, although most are invisible because they spend their lives glued to the…screen, which they call ‘the real world’. - by Darren Allen in Man and Woman, Expressive Egg

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Invisible Children

How Palestinians became the Invisible Child

The conflict between Israel-Gaza can be traced back to Biblical times (as told in the Torah) in the land of Canaan to a man named Abraham and his wife Sarah. This story includes a servant Hagar and two children Ishmael and Isaac. God promises Abraham that he will be the father of many nations, but when his wife Sarah remains barren, she suggests that Abraham father a child with her maidservant, Hagar. Ishmael is born to Hagar, but God later fulfils His promise to Sarah, and Isaac is born. As Isaac grows and is close to his brother Ishmael, tensions rise between Sarah and Hagar due to Sarah’s jealousy of the attention Ishmael gets from Abraham and the presence of another mother figure who has been with her man, leading Abraham to send Hagar and Ishmael away. God promises to bless Ishmael and make him the father of a great nation as well. Isaac becomes the covenant child, through whom God's promises to Abraham are fulfilled.

This story can be analysed through the lens of the Narcissistic Family system. Sarah, the Narcissistic Parent, is desperate for a child and feels her worth tied to her ability to bear one. Her inability to conceive causes her self worth to plummet, and she grows bitter with jealousy, especially toward her husband, Abraham, who remains faithful to the promise of God that they would have a son. Unable to bear the weight of her perceived failure, Sarah takes matters into her own hands. She offers her maidservant Hagar to Abraham as a surrogate, determined that at least one child will carry her legacy.

When Hagar becomes pregnant with Ishmael, Sarah’s jealousy boils over. She can’t stand the idea that Hagar, a woman beneath her, has the one thing Sarah desires most—Abraham’s child. The tension between the two women escalates until Sarah’s cruelty reaches its peak. She treats Hagar harshly, humiliating her until Hagar flees into the wilderness. But even then, Sarah’s narrative is one of control. Hagar is forced to return and submit to Sarah’s authority, silenced in her own suffering.

The true extent of Sarah’s narcissism emerges when she gives birth to Isaac. Isaac’s birth makes her feel validated, as if she has finally secured her place in the world, but she sees Ishmael—a constant reminder of her shame - as a threat to that validation. The moment Isaac can walk, Sarah demands that Hagar and Ishmael be cast out. She believes she has the right to erase the past, to remove the child who she views as a rival for Abraham’s affection and the inheritance.

Abraham, the Ally, loves both his sons but is too passive to challenge Sarah. Torn between his love for Ishmael and his fear of Sarah’s wrath, he reluctantly obeys her, sending Hagar and Ishmael into the wilderness with nothing but water and some bread. Though Abraham loves Ishmael, his cowardice and passivity make him complicit in Sarah’s cruelty. He abandons his son, and with that, he relinquishes any role in protecting him.

Ishmael, the Invisible Child, is a victim of Sarah’s egocentric obsession. He is cast aside because he doesn’t fit into Sarah’s carefully constructed vision of the family. Despite being Abraham’s firstborn, Ishmael’s existence means nothing to Sarah once Isaac is born—he’s a reminder of Sarah’s inability to control everything. When he is sent away with Hagar, Ishmael is temporarily abandoned by Hagar, and left to die in the wilderness, unloved and unrecognized. Divine intervention saves him and promises to make him the father of a great nation, proving that even the forgotten are not forsaken.

Hagar, the Black Sheep, is bears the brunt of Sarah’s rage. She’s used as a tool for Sarah’s selfish desire and becomes the scapegoat for Sarah’s insecurities, discarded, and cast aside. Abandoned in the desert with Ishmael, she faces death, but in her lowest moment, God appears to her, offering comfort and a future. Hagar’s pain is seen and heard by the divine, and she becomes the mother of a people, empowered by God’s promise.

Isaac, the Golden Child, remains at the centre of it all—Sarah’s pride, Abraham’s hope, and the heir to the promise. Isaac grows up in a home shaped by favouritism, aware that his birth, though a divine blessing, came at the expense of Ishmael’s pain, Hagar’s suffering, and Abraham’s complicity in their mistreatment. This legacy of exclusion alongside his privilege likely weighs on Isaac, even as he inherits the covenant, setting the stage for a future full of rivalry and conflict. However, the eventual reconciliation at Abraham's burial suggests that, despite the wounds of the past, Isaac and Ishmael find a way to heal the rift in the fractured family.

This is the origin story of the Israelites and the Arabs, Jews and Muslims. Fast forward roughly four thousand years to the collapse of the Ottoman Empire, and we see a re-enactment of this story.

The Narcissistic Family System during the collapse of the Ottoman Empire

The story of the events leading to the collapse of the Ottoman Empire is often overlooked in emotionally charged debates about who is responsible for the displacement of the ancestors of present-day Palestinians. This story told through the lens of the Narcissistic Family System was inspired by

Liat Portal

’s piece in the

Future of Jewish

Substack specifically focused on land sales in the Palestine region during the decline of the empire. The cast of characters involved in the decline and eventual collapse of the Ottoman Empire, with a focus on the region of Palestine, is described below.

The Ottoman elites as the Narcissistic Parent

The Ottoman elites were a mix of local leaders, wealthy landowners, and high-ranking bureaucrats who often held significant power in their local communities, as well as within the Ottoman administration. These elites were typically Arabic-speaking Muslims who maintained local power through alliances with the Ottoman central government, the Ally of the Narcissistic Parent Elites.

The Ottoman central authority as the The Golden Child

Those in the capital (present Istanbul) who were favoured and given the most resources while other ethnic and religious groups were sidelined.

The Imperial Bureaucracy as the Ally

They, including the military and local officials, supported the sultan and the central authority, helping to maintain the status quo and protect the empire’s structure, though often with their own vested interests.

The Ethnic Minorities as The Black Sheep

The Black Sheep of the Ottoman Empire were the ethnic minorities, religious outcasts, and political dissidents seen as the troublemakers. They were actively oppressed and marginalised, the Scapegoats for the decline of the Empire. The Black Sheep include groups like the Armenians, Kurds, and Greeks—ethnic or religious communities that were sometimes seen as threats to the stability of the empire. These groups, particularly in times of crisis, were often scapegoated, blamed for the empire’s troubles, or targeted during purges and mass deportations, as in the case of the Armenian Genocide during World War I.

The Servants and Lower Classes as the Invisible Child

The servants or lower classes within the Ottoman system were mainly Arab peasants or workers (and a Jewish minority) who had limited access to power and wealth. These people made up the vast majority of the population and were the backbone of the economy who provided the agricultural labour that sustained the empire’s wealth. They were largely ignored by the ruling elites, who focused on maintaining their own power rather than addressing the needs of the rural population. The peasants had little to no political influence, were heavily taxed, lived in poor conditions, and lacked resources or means for social mobility. Despite being crucial to the empire's survival, the peasants were often overlooked in imperial decision-making and excluded from the privileges enjoyed by urban elites, intellectuals, and military leaders. Instead, they were victims of neglect by their abusive, exploitative Narcissistic Parent and the Ally.

The Narcissistic Family System during the power shift

Before the collapse of the Ottoman Empire, Jews were already acquiring land in Palestine (after being restricted for centuries) through strategic land purchases from Ottoman elites and wealthy landowners, the ex-Narcissistic Parents. As the empire weakened, the 1917 Balfour Declaration endorsed the creation of a Jewish homeland, further legitimizing Jewish immigration and settlement. These purchases were supported by wealthy Jewish donors and European powers, the Ally, who saw the establishment of a Jewish homeland as politically and strategically advantageous.

As the Ottoman Empire collapsed, political instability, economic decline, mounting debts, and foreign influence (from Britain and Zionist organizations) pressured Ottoman elites and absentee landowners in Palestine to sell or lease land to Jewish settlers, even if they had the potential to retain it. This enabled Jewish settlers, many of whom were feeling persecution in Eastern Europe and Russian, to acquire land, despite opposition from local Arab populations. This land acquisition, supported by foreign powers, granted Jews economic and political favour, positioning them as the Golden Child in the new geopolitical order.

With the dissolution of Ottoman control, the new Narcissistic Parent became the British Mandate, as Britain increasingly assumed control over Palestine, promoting Jewish settlement as part of their broader strategic and colonial interests. The British, like the Narcissistic Parent, favoured the Jewish population, seeing them as key players in the region’s future. The lower class—servants and peasants—who had worked the land and were completely dependent on the Ottoman system, were left without support. The collapse of the Empire and the imposition of new colonial borders displaced entire communities of Invisible Child Arabs, who were caught in the crossfire of conflicting national identities, emerging state boundaries, and new geopolitical realities. These peasants found themselves increasingly marginalized, with no protection or recognition from the new powers that shaped their world.

Why do Palestinian Muslims blame Jews and Israel, not the Arab elites who abused and abandoned them?

As the Ottoman Empire collapsed and British control took hold in Palestine, the Arab peasants, already marginalized and exploited by the local elites, found themselves facing new and more immediate threats. While they had long endured the neglect and exploitation of the Arab elites, they were part of the same cultural and social fabric, making it more difficult to direct their anger toward them. Instead, the peasants' resentment became increasingly focused on the external forces reshaping their world—namely the British Mandate and the growing influx of Jewish settlers. The Jews, seen as the most visible and direct agents of change, became the target of much of the peasants' anger. They were often viewed as part of the broader external threat, supported by colonial powers and securing land through foreign-backed mechanisms, which displaced Arab farmers and altered the balance of power in Palestine.

This dynamic of focusing anger on Jews, and by extension Israel, rather than Arab Elites is a reflection of a familiar story in the Narcissistic Family System. The victim of long term abuse, exploitation, and neglect can direct their anger at an external group more easily than the original abuser whom they protect from accountability. The Arab elites were still seen as part of the same family —culturally, socially, and historically, much like the abusive parent. Meanwhile, the Jews who are the outsiders benefiting from foreign support, became the symbol of a new form of domination. As a result, much of the resentment of the Arab peasants was channelled into opposition to Zionism and, later, the State of Israel, rather than addressing the deeper issues within their own communities.

The ongoing struggle over land, identity, and power in Palestine became a way of confronting external threats, while internal power structures, including the Arab elites and now the abusive Hamas, remain largely unchallenged.

Hamas, as an adoptive Narcissistic Parent to the dispossessed Palestinians, has assumed a leadership role that provides a sense of identity to the Invisible Child and resistance to external threats while perpetuating cycles of abuse and dysfunction. While Hamas positions itself as a defender of Palestinian rights and sovereignty, its governance has been marked by authoritarianism, suppression of dissent, sacrificing their own adults and children, and the manipulation of public support. The organization often prioritizes its political and military goals over the welfare of the Palestinian people, maintaining power through fear and control rather than fostering true social or economic development. In this way, Hamas reflects the role of the Narcissistic parent, providing a sense of protection and belonging to those who feel abandoned, but at the cost of continuing cycles of violence and hardship that counters its message of liberation.

While many view Israel as the Narcissistic Parent, it’s clear that Hamas, driven by its own agenda and supported by Iran the Ally, has taken on a similar role in the conflict, pushing for the annihilation of Israel. Under the guise of protecting Palestinians, Hamas is often seen as prioritising its own political goals and consolidating power rather than genuinely advancing the welfare of the people it claims to represent

The re-enactment of the drama between Jews and Muslims, playing out like a dysfunctional family from ancient times to the present, reveals that time does not heal all wounds—some still fester after 4,000 years. True healing and reconciliation can only occur through intentional, peaceful negotiations, where both sides must let go of their resentments and work together to create a new narrative.

Given this is happening in the Middle East, what’s with the pro-Palestine activists in the West?

Pro-Palestine activists are the Invisible Children

The Invisible Children often fend for themselves in families that focus on developing the talents of the Golden Child or where both parents are too busy to give the child sustained attention. This lack of attention can delay the discovery and nurturing of their talents and intelligence, hindering the development of higher-order executive functions necessary for critical reasoning and emotional regulation, leaving them more vulnerable to ideological capture and prone to constructing arguments based on logical fallacies. Privileged Invisible Children might have an easier path to university admission at elite schools, where they encounter others who are emotionally heightened, mediocre in thinking, biased, and resentful of the Golden Child. Together, they feel empowered and morally righteous, affirming each other’s ideology and conflating it with intelligence. In solidarity, they use protests to block access and demonize Golden Children (e.g., Zionists, students pursuing their studies), seeking to forcibly claim the position of the true, deserving Golden Children.

Indulging in self-loathing by harming the symbolic perpetrator (the Golden Child) ultimately harms oneself—they feed on hate and darkness, deepening shame rather than releasing it.

Many activists in the West who champion Palestinian rights often express intense emotion and moral outrage in the face of injustice. While these emotions are genuine, they may be emotionally reactive rather than grounded in a fully developed, logical framework. This is similar to the Invisible Child who may act out emotionally due to the lack of a stable sense of self or healthy emotional coping skills.

This approach to activism can sometimes lead to a lack of critical thinking or the simplification of complex issues. The situation of Palestine is deeply tragic, but emotional reactions without a deep understanding of the geopolitical and historical context can lead to oversimplification and reductionism.

One of the dynamics of the Invisible Child is the longing for recognition, often from the Narcissistic parent or authority figures. The parent authority from whom they seek recognition is the pro-Palestine/social justice community. They might see themselves as champions for the cause, asserting moral superiority and dominant narratives about the correct stance over others as they strive for Golden Child status within the activist world.

For pro-Palestinian activists, especially those from privileged backgrounds in the West, some of whom are academics who are the Invisible Children in their own families, the tragic deaths of Palestinian children, particularly in the context of Hamas’s actions and the resulting Israeli military response, can strike a primal, emotional chord. The imagery of innocent children dying—often at the hands of violence they can’t control—evokes a deep, existential fear of erasure, mirroring the activists’ own sense of invisibility and fear of being overlooked or forgotten by their families and societies, while the Golden Children continue to claim attention and recognition.

Just as these activists may feel emotionally neglected by their families, the deaths of Palestinian children can represent a form of collective erasure, where the most vulnerable are silenced and their suffering ignored or manipulated by external forces.

In this context, the activists’ sense of personal invisibility intersects with the broader trauma of the Palestinian people, particularly the children who become symbolic victims in an intractable conflict. By focusing their outrage on the violence affecting Palestinian children—often blaming Israel and Jews who are the Golden Child —they project their own unresolved fears of being forgotten or rendered insignificant onto the Palestinian cause.

The death of these children becomes a symbol of the existential fear of erasure and being forgotten of both the Palestinian identity and the personal sense of loss that these activists carry, channelling their emotional pain into advocacy that seeks to restore visibility and define a clear identity for both the oppressed Palestinians and themselves. Their fight for Palestinian rights is not just political—it is an effort to claim an identity, to stand in solidarity with a group they perceive as victims of the same forces that have marginalized them, despite the activists’ privilege.

The activists' calls for justice and land back for Palestinians might be attempts to restore power and recognition not only to Palestinians but also to themselves. They project their own desires for dominance and visibility onto the cause, seeking to become moral arbiters who stand on the "right side of history." By adopting the Palestinian struggle, they attempt to reclaim a sense of agency and stake claim of Golden Child status, positioning themselves as restorers of justice while simultaneously demanding recognition in both the political and social justice spheres.

The Palestinians are the Golden Children in their eyes by virtue of being anointed as the Sacred Victims who will be restored to their rightful place in the world stage through the activists’ efforts—perhaps as a form of projective identification; wanting to see themselves as the Golden Children.

Ultimately, their advocacy for Palestine is not just a political act—it’s a personal journey of self-definition, where the fight for Palestinian rights becomes a way for them to form a coherent sense of self and claim recognition that they feel has been denied both to themselves and to the Palestinian people, as the true Golden Children.

In other words, it’s personal under the pretence of the political.

Fear of insignificance creates the result it dreads, arrives at the destination it tries to avoid, facilitates the scenario it disdains. - Max Lucado

What’s behind the pro-Palestine women activists who are anti-oppression yet supportive of the Islamic regime?

These Western pro-Palestine, anti-oppression activists, like the symbolic Invisible Children, project their own sense of marginalization onto the Palestinian cause. In a way, they mirror the Muslim women across the Middle East, Asian, and Africa who are forced into invisibility by shielding their identities with veils and clothing under restrictive laws. Despite their opposition to oppressive systems, these activists may support the Islamic regime in Iran, seeking recognition and validation from it, much like children seeking approval from a Narcissistic Parent. By aligning with the Islamic regime, they look to an oppressive but powerful father figure in their quest for empowerment. In this context, Hamas, Hezbollah, Isis and other terrorist groups become their (Golden) brother and sister freedom fighters resisting Israel, whom they view as the ultimate narcissistic abuser. Through this projection, they align their personal struggles for recognition and self-worth with a morally righteous narrative of resistance, even if it means supporting forces that perpetuate their own ideological contradictions.

Transcending these roles

The cosmic drama is re-enacted on the geopolitical stage, in our social affiliations, and in our families. It’s clear that in recent years, people have been increasingly broken, their past resentments and unresolved wounds resurfacing. These emotional scars are reopened, causing festering pain that bleeds into their actions and activism, distorting their efforts and clouding their vision.

Trauma isn’t healed by externalising the resentment, hatred, jealousy, and grief that come from feeling overlooked and insignificant. I’ve witnessed many activists across diverse causes gradually shift their approach as they face their childhood wounds. Once they begin to engage with their own healing, their advocacy transforms, shifting from a reactive and defensive stance to one that is gentler, facilitative, and more intentional in its pursuit of personal transformation and collective change.

To transcend the roles imposed by the Narcissistic family system, whether as the Invisible Child, the Golden Child, or the Black Sheep, requires a deliberate effort to rewrite the script of our lives. While the drama of activism often starts as a reaction to perceived injustice, real transformation occurs when we recognise that our actions are often unconsciously influenced by deeper, unresolved wounds. By confronting and healing our unresolved wounds we can free ourselves from these limiting identities and from the constraints of victimhood and embrace a more empowered, self-aware version of ourselves. Only then can we create a new narrative rooted in strong sense of self and the genuine pursuit of change for ourselves, our relationships, and for the human race.

Thanks to

Kate Wand

for her support, ideas, and edits.

Thank you for reading and for your thoughtful comments,

Nathalie

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