<![CDATA[TAREK YOUNIS

<![CDATA[TAREK YOUNIS - Blog]]>Tue, 12 May 2026 15:26:15 -0700Weebly<![CDATA[My Rejection of Peter Neumann's "Apology": The Islamophobia of Centrists]]>Sat, 31 Oct 2020 16:47:03 GMThttps://www.tarekyounis.org/blog/my-rejection-of-peter-neumanns-apology-the-islamophobia-of-centrists

This is a full response to Peter Neumann’s “apology.” I’ll post it on my website for posterity but share the entire piece below. Here is the thread that drove him to write his “apology” in the first place: https://twitter.com/Tarek_Younis_/status/1322467138112815105

Peter Neumann, if you wanted to apologise, you should’ve done it last week when I flagged your first expression of Islamophobia and disrespect. That was your window. It closed the moment you disregarded the Islamophobia then, even while so many others pointed it out to you.

This isn’t about “tone.” Tone is saying “gimme apples” instead of “may I have apples, please.” This is a serious and unequivocal display of Islamophobia. Your “tone” isn’t off—you’ve displayed several serious acts of discrimination and harassment.

Your window of apology was long gone when you decided to pester me about Nice last night. You wanted my thoughts on the killings, using these tragic deaths for your own devices. If you read my wall, you would see I retweeted another’s outrage of the killings. Because all deaths of innocents get to me—doesn’t matter who.

You admit here I think the killing is heinous; it was never about the content of my tweet. Well, it it wasn’t about my thoughts on Nice, then it could only be about you. This is about power. You obviously hated being caught for your Islamophobia when I questioned you last week, and you decided last night to provoke a response.

You knew—wittingly or not—that I’m under additional scrutiny as a Muslim critical on matters of terrorism. You know about the field of egg shells Muslims must navigate on this subject and, with your power and privilege, you attempted to use this field against me. Maybe you were hoping for a wrong step. So you tagged me and my university all night. You needed me to say something—anything—about Nice. Because if I open my mouth, I make myself vulnerable.

Unlike you though, I keep my manners. I learned to thrive in the suffocation of my own silence. I take inspiration from the Prophet Mohammed (sas) who showed immense patience in the face of abuse. If a young Muslim academic acted like you did last night, even for an instant, they would never get hired.

Your only protection is your privilege. I doubt you’re sorry, I suspect you just hate being caught. You were so blinded by your privilege, you lost all sight of the lines you crossed. I live my life surrounded by lines you can’t even see when your eyes are open.

We need institutional changes, not performative apologies. You should not even be close to teaching anyone on hate/extremism, let alone anything related to racism (i.e. Far Right).

This message is for all the Muslims and minority academics who never get a fair shake with the likes of you—the man who was so quick to get me in trouble with my employer. This is against the racism endemic in counter-terrorism and everyone like you.

This message is for all the Muslim youth across the West vilified for the things they said but didn’t mean. They never get a chance to apologise. They can never delete their histories.

This message is against anyone like you who thinks their performative centrism (“oh I research/hate the Far-Right too”) is an immediate protection against accusations of racism.

I will file complaints and mobilise against your racism and Islamophobia. Kings must give a formal and satisfactorily institutional statement to your abuse. I want to see people like you stripped of the power to abuse Muslims like you did last night.

You’re not a colleague. You embody the racism of an alleged post-racial world. You’re everything wrong with counter-terrorism. You’re a walking poster-boy for the racism of liberal centrists.

Your racism showed at the slightest provocation. Your insecurity and desperation made you dig your own hole.

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This was the initial thread which prompted it all:
https://twitter.com/Tarek_Younis_/status/1320060180520947715

]]><![CDATA[Veiling Colonial Violence: The Last of Us Part II, Israel and the Erasure of Power]]>Mon, 24 Aug 2020 06:48:21 GMThttps://www.tarekyounis.org/blog/blurred-violence-the-last-of-us-part-ii-israel-and-the-erasure-of-power

Note: This article contains spoilers for The Last of Us and The Last of Us Part II. It is written for those familiar and unfamiliar with the story. Also, I had written this article before finding this fantastic piece by Emanuel Maiberg on Vice titled “The Not So Hidden Israeli Politics of 'The Last of Us Part II’, which provides an alternative take on the themes found below.

In the Washington Post, Neil Druckmann, the creative director of Last of Us (LoU) and Last of Us Part II (LoUII), shared the following as an inspiration for the sequel:

The formulation for Ellie’s turn toward darkness can be traced back to the year 2000. Then in his early 20s, Druckmann witnessed news footage of a crowd lynching two Israeli soldiers in the West Bank. “And then they cheered afterward,” Druckmann, who grew up in Israel, recalls. “It was the cheering that was really chilling to me. … In my mind, I thought, ‘Oh, man, if I could just push a button and kill all these people that committed this horrible act, I would make them feel the same pain that they inflicted on these people.’"
The feeling faded, though. Eventually, he looked back and felt “gross and guilty” for his intense feelings. With “The Last of Us Part II,” he wanted to explore that emotional tumult on a didactic level.

This post would not have been written had Neil Druckmann not made these comments and is dedicated to all artists who depoliticise conflicts through their craft.

The Last of Us (LoU) takes place in a zombie-apocalyptic world plagued by a contagious virus but, like others in the genre, personal tragedy takes centre-stage. Its story then is intimately human: profound loss and trauma; suffering of life as survival; and the search for some greater meaning in unconscionable tragedy, often exclusively in relationships. The first game follows Joel, whose teenage daughter was shot by a military convoy attempting to contain the outbreak. Joel then meets Ellie, a teenager who happens to be immune to the virus, and the two develop a rocky and predictably complicated relationship, each relating to the other through their own anxieties. The story begins many years following the outbreak, where survival has helped a disgruntled Joel escaping his loss. Through a string of circumstances, Joel becomes responsible for Ellie and, while initially intolerable, the relationship gives Joel a new lease on life. Joel comes to terms with his own loss through Ellie—but not the actuality of loss itself—which inversely sees Joel anxiously protective of the latter amidst the chaos of a post-apocalyptic world. The story culminates with Joel taking down a militarised hospital and its only surgery team to save Ellie from a fatal operation which might be humanity’s last hope at finding a cure for the zombie apocalypse.

The sequel Last of Us Part II (LoUII) takes Joel’s trivialised execution of the surgeon in the first game and explores the monumental consequences of this decision. The surgeon (viewed as torn in flashbacks for having to conduct a morally questionable operation: the life of an innocent girl for the salvation of humanity) has a teenage daughter, Abby. We follow Abby as she is consumed for her hatred of Joel, which provides the central theme of the sequel—the vicious circle of violence. In LoUII, Abby and her crew of sympathetic friends find and kill Joel, thus spurring Ellie to return the favour—violence begets violence, etc.

In its attempt to humanise violence, the story is essentially a confused spectacle of “there’s two sides to every conflict”. Worse, it seems to indicate that all conflicts can somehow be attributed to this obscure phantom called ‘trauma.’ This is not unsurprising: ‘trauma’ has resurfaced as a great explanatory model, well-situated within a neoliberal era of hyper-individualising social and political issues. The sequel signals a centrist position of conflict-as-personal-trauma—in line, unsurprisingly, with current neoliberal securitisation models. The games thus champions “everything is a matter of perspective,” as if all we’re really lacking for world peace is a better understanding of the other’s “trauma.” Cue racial, cultural and religious awareness trainings so we get to know one another better.

The sequel is not altogether effective at showcasing the moral regression of a beloved character, Ellie, whose loss of innocence was the true tragedy of the first game. Like the Punisher, she tortures and kills for emotional retribution of a loved one which, to be frank, in a post-9/11 world only works with a racialised White woman in the driver’s seat without pandering to a myriad of moral panics. Imagine the political reaction if the protagonist was an Iraqi refugee who shared Ellie's exact pursuit of vengeance--to find and torture those responsible for their family’s death. The significance of White innocence in the dramatisation of revenge cannot be understated, but is beside the point here.

In its exploration of violence, LoUII would work better as a book than a game. On the one hand, the writing and performances are stellar, and easily overshadows other works of fiction. On the other, as a game the LoUII completely disregards the medium’s unique ability to explore player agency, something books and movies cannot afford. I will return to this, especially as it relates to violence. The LoUII is thus a quintessential example of ‘post-apocalyptic’ as a ‘post-imperial world’—thereby erasing race, class, etc.—of survival painted entirely through the thin brush of Western existentialism (“what is the meaning of life in tragedy?”). There are two dramatic issues with Neil Druckmann’s drawing on a political scenario to “educate” us about violence: the commodification of violence and the erasure of power.

Clearly the lynching impressed enough of an image on Neil Druckmann to explore the cycle of violence, but not enough to appreciate the commodification of violence as delivered endlessly through our screens. In LoUII, players are continuously forced to engage in violence to draw the narrative towards its uncertain end, not unlike the War on Terror. For example, there is a particularly disgusting scenario where the player is forced to “press a button” to torture and extract information from Black woman—this is an actual set-piece in the game. The irony here is striking: one of the highest-selling Playstation games of this generation, whose sale of violence benefits the wider military-industrial complex primarily, seeks to “educate” players about the nature of violence. The LoUII thus traps players as producers and consumers of violence—running contrary to the very message of humanity it purports to hold—while lacking the sort of self-awareness found in other games like Spec Ops: The Line.

But this isn’t about the game’s violence, but the morality of violence which guides the entire game. The player is not simply a passive, pornographic voyeur in violence (as one might be watching a movie), but actually complicit in re-enacting these acts of violence themselves. In this sense, Neil Druckmann’s hope of “education” fails spectacularly, conjuring the exact opposite: having depoliticised the player, they are simply ‘following Neil Druckmann’s orders’ to engage in violence. This point of depoliticisation goes further. In life, the cycle of violence (revenge, etc.) does not exist in a vacuum until “someone forgives.” Rather, even at its most basic understanding, violence is the purview of power—often defined by Nation-States, especially colonial superpowers.

What Neil Druckmann saw in the lynching of two Israeli soldiers is artificially fragmented outside of its context, where Israel—the superpower—has allowance to colonise, pillage and otherwise eradicate Palestinian life and land. Neil Druckmann, in his post-apocalyptic vision, not only dismisses the significance of power but erases it altogether. Instead of interrogating “why some violence is considered legitimate, and other violence is not?”, Neil Druckmann simply leaves us with the question “why would someone lynch another?” It is the former which underlines the significance of justice in its interrogation of violence, the latter erases all but the individual.

And so, if Neil Druckmann just said, “well I made this hyper-violent game because I wanted to explore how we're all equally liable to violence”, I would disagree with his approach, but would leave it at that. But if he justifies his direction based on a (violent) act of anticolonial resistance, then he’s tragically enacting a much more real form of violence by erasing the significance of power hierarchies in a (real apocalyptic) world where certain forms (State) violence are given free-pass and others are not.

Neil Druckmann, there are powers who, as you so eagerly desired at one point, not only “push a button and kill all these people that committed this horrible act” every day but take many more innocent lives in the process. As Gaza faces its 9th consecutive day of bombing, life’s true wonder is how modern purveyors of violence get away it, while painting themselves as victims. A game like LoUII, and its director’s inability to truly interrogate colonial violence, provides some clarity. Post-apocalyptic visions provide us an opportunity to question existing power structures, especially as they relate to the global military-industrial complex. To simply reproduce or dismiss them is not a missed opportunity—it’s playing a part in the problem.

]]><![CDATA[Hanau Killings and “Far Right Experts”: Remembering Malcolm X’s Warning of Foxes]]>Sun, 23 Feb 2020 09:35:32 GMThttps://www.tarekyounis.org/blog/hanau-killings-and-far-right-experts-remembering-malcolm-xs-warning-of-foxes

Part 1: Remembering Germany’s Racism

Following the attack in Germany, I thought I’d share some thoughts. I’m angry but especially troubled how the attack is being discussed, or rather, how the historical and political portrayal of Kurds/Turks [the non-German] is continuously erased.

And more importantly, thinking of Malcolm X’s legacy, I’m going to say something which we must bear in mind today, more than ever: just because you’re anti-Far Right (in research or practice) does not mean you’re anti-racist or anti-Islamophobic.

To establish my position to speak on this subject: I grew up in Berlin and I’m familiar with Muslim community activism there (though this is dated now); my PhD compared Muslim identity development according to the political contexts of Germany, Canada and Denmark; and my current research looks at how racism perpetuates through counter-terror logic and political rhetoric.

I’m specifically interested in how ‘psychology talk’ is a 21st century vehicle in dismissing racist structures. This is very relevant to how Tobias R, the Hanau killer, is being discussed, focusing on his online activity, social networks, mental health, etc.

In 2003, I remember vividly being attacked in Berlin. The guy was screaming “du bist dreck, raus aus Deutschland” [you’re dirt, get out of Germany]. I know of many such ideologically-motivated, violent incidents among friends and within the Muslim community—“racism” was never acknowledged, let alone “Far Right terrorism”.

Reflecting on an experience for an upcoming anthology: around the time there were talks of Turkey entering the EU, my political science teacher took me aside after class and told me she “doesn’t want people like me in her neighbourhood.”

That’s not even the worst of it: others were sharing with me similar experiences. At that time though, we didn’t really have (or knew of) what to do with those experiences. They simply dissipated into the xenophobic winds of German social life.

I also remember protesting the terrible murder of Marwa el-Sherbini in 2009. She was stabbed by Alex Wiens, who had called her an ‘Islamist, terrorist and slut’. Political sensationalism was never interrogated, let alone even the mention of any systemic problem in the country.

It is not uncommon for high-ranking politicians like Horst Seehofer, the interior minister of CDU, to say things like "Islam does not belong to Germany.” This has been going on for a long time.

Of course, as Ozan explained very well, racism is hardly taken as a serious political issue in Germany. I would argue this is partly due to who counts as an ‘expert’ on racist incidents today.

Germany has had problems with racialised minorities for a long time. This rise of the ‘Far-Right’ (if we’re to even agree with that category, as xenophobia was never partisan) is absolutely not sudden, nor is it unforeseen. Germany’s history of ethno-citizenship is an example.

Beginning in the 1960s, the German Muslim population increased drastically due to the influx of Turkish guest workers, who were solicited to immigrate due to shortage in labor. When these Turkish ‘guest workers’ arrived, they were welcomed with acclaim, with the president of the Federal Labor Agency embracing the millionth guest worker to arrive .

German politicians expected these guest workers to eventually return to Turkey however so they never provided them, their families or descendants citizenship, declaring they are ‘not a land of immigration’. See this revealing book for more: https://www.bloomsbury.com/uk/the-politics-of-citizenship-in-germany-9781859737811/

Here’s another uppercut: remember Marwa el-Sherbini, the Muslim woman stabbed in court? She was stabbed by Alex Wiens, a Russian who immigrated to Germany and immediately received German citizenship because of his ethnic (German) origins.

To ensure they don’t ever feel like they belong, citizenship was denied for a long time—including many generations later. People like to blame the Turks for “not integrating” but there were many legitimate political reasons to this, if it were ever true

The denial of all this history also erases decades of anti-fascist work. Now the fight against ethnonationalists has been co-opted by State counterterrorism/extremism ‘experts’, many of whom developed their careers by securitising Muslims

Part 2: The Far Right “Experts” and Malcolm’s Legacy

Why is this a problem? The official State narrative conveniently views these “Far Right” individuals as a result of (fringe) group dynamics. To them, racism isn’t systemic—no need to look at policy or, you know, Horst Seehofer

As Liz Fekete outlined very well in her book, the Far-Right is well within the centre of governments: ‘the Far-Right has move from the periphery to the centre of society, consolidating their authority at a local level, and establishing power bases in municipal and regional governments across Europe’

This is key: politicians succeed through racism and xenophobia. This fascist threat is not at all equivalent to “domestic Muslim extremism”, where someone may be given a 15-year prison sentence for unintentionally supporting a terrorist group.

Let’s go deeper then: it’s really not difficult to understand how counter-extremism, which the State launches to both produce and resolve the moral panic of ‘bad Muslims in our midst’, in fact bolster nationalist counter-jihadis who see Muslims as an existential threat.

Indeed, the Far-Right’s counter-jihadi and Islamophobic outlook sprouts from the same political tree as counter-extremist policies. Unsurprisingly counter-extremists may operate upon the same Islamophobic logic of the Far-Right.

So we need to begin to separate between experts who recognise the centrality of political and industrial conditions which give life to all xenophobia, and “experts” who not only erase them from the discussion, but perpetuate Islamophobic tropes.

Here I’m talking about ‘Far Right experts’ who seek, for example, to “improve” existing security policies targeting Muslims--without either addressing the criticism or indeed even working with Muslims—collaborating with State institutions and “jockeying for power” (quoting Malcom X).

Malcolm X was, as always, clairvoyant in his analysis of white liberals. Drawing an analogy then, yes the wolves (the Far Right) are a problem, but there’s cause of concern for foxes (White liberal experts) who claim they’re helping Muslims through their work but exacerbate the very structures which marginalise us

Wolves and Foxes—we run from the wolves who show their teeth in a snarl, straight “into the open jaws of the smiling fox” who pander to our deepest anxieties and remind Muslims, “oh I know, not all of you are bad guys—we need to catch all extremists.”

Their collusion with the State (like Prevent) for all its politically instigated public strategies—the War on Terror has been a highly effective political ‘moral panic button’ for too long now—or even just decades of eroding Muslim civil society, reveals foolishness, ignorance and, and a vying for proximity to power.

This isn’t a blanket condemnation of everyone who studies the Far Right—Liz Fekete is a great counterexample. We need to do better to track and encourage great allies we have against fascism, and the foxes who smile through their teeth while perpetuating the very structures which subjugate us all.

In memory of Malcom X’s: just because someone’s anti-Far Right doesn’t mean they can’t be Islamophobic. There are allies and there are wolves, but never forget the foxes in between.

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