One Day, Everyone Will Have Always Been Against This

Omar El Akkad

58 pages 1-hour read

Omar El Akkad

One Day, Everyone Will Have Always Been Against This

Nonfiction | Autobiography / Memoir | Adult | Published in 2025

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Chapters 9-10Chapter Summaries & Analyses

Content Warning: This section of the guide includes discussion of racism, illness, graphic violence, and death by suicide.

Chapter 9 Summary: “Leavetaking”

In the ninth chapter, El Akkad examines forms of resistance against genocide and injustice, focusing particularly on the concept of “negative resistance”—the act of walking away or refusing to participate in systems that enable atrocities.


El Akkad begins by describing how he copes with the ongoing genocide in Gaza by retreating to a quiet spot in the wooded area behind his home in Portland, Oregon. He notes that his priorities have shifted: Everyday concerns like taxes and deadlines now seem trivial compared to the unfolding humanitarian catastrophe. When he attended an award ceremony in Los Angeles, he felt disconnected from the celebratory atmosphere, unable to maintain the cultural facade that had previously allowed him to blend into Western society.


El Akkad reflects on Aaron Bushnell, a U.S. soldier who self-immolated outside the Israeli embassy in Washington D.C. in February 2024 to protest American complicity in the Gaza conflict. El Akkad contrasts the dismissive media reaction to Bushnell’s act with the reverent coverage given to Mohamed Bouazizi, whose self-immolation sparked the Arab Spring in 2010. He also observes how power structures struggle to respond to “negative resistance”—when someone simply refuses to participate rather than actively confronting the system.


El Akkad discusses how the United States repeatedly vetoed UN resolutions calling for a ceasefire in Gaza. He contemplates UN Ambassador Linda Thomas-Greenfield, who raised her hand to block the ceasefire resolution; he asks whether she “might wonder, even briefly, if this is what she wanted for her life” (158). Drawing from his experience as a political reporter, he describes the bureaucratic ecosystem that enables officials to carry out morally questionable acts without apparent reflection.


The chapter explores how economic boycotts are often characterized as “economic terrorism” when directed against Israel, yet similar actions by governments or wealthy donors are considered acceptable. El Akkad notes that many U.S. states have passed laws restricting boycotts related to Israel. He finds this disparity revealing about how power operates: The individual’s right not to participate is viewed as a threat to systems that depend on perpetual consumption and compliance.


El Akkad addresses campus protests supporting Palestinians, particularly at prestigious universities. He interprets these demonstrations not as nihilistic rejections but as refusals to accept a system that offers no sustainable future. He highlights various acts of resistance, from playwright Victor I. Cazares going on a medication strike to numerous artists declining prizes and speaking engagements. These individual acts of conscience disrupt the notion that self-interest is the only human motivation.


Drawing from his experience as a business and technology reporter, El Akkad reflects on how late capitalism depends on people accepting continually worsening conditions. He describes attending lavish corporate events and interviewing executives whose “innovations” often simply involved finding ways to extract more from workers while giving less in return. This pattern of “growth by negation” (177)—taking rather than creating—mirrors how governments respond to crises like climate change.


El Akkad concludes by acknowledging the personal cost of disengagement. He admits there is grief in severing ties with institutions and individuals who remain silent in the face of atrocity. Yet he finds hope in the young people risking their futures to protest injustice, in Jewish activists opposing Israeli policies, and in Indigenous communities standing in solidarity with Palestinians despite their own historical traumas.


The chapter ends with a stark image: As Aaron Bushnell burned in protest, one officer called for a fire extinguisher while another pointed a gun at the flames—encapsulating the contradictory responses to moral resistance within the existing power structure.

Chapter 10 Summary: “Arrival”

Chapter 10 opens with El Akkad recounting a deeply personal crisis—his 18-month-old daughter’s hospitalization due to a severe respiratory condition. Despite having access to excellent healthcare, this experience remains his most terrifying memory. Through this intimate account, El Akkad examines the challenge of extending the profound concern felt for one’s own family to strangers suffering elsewhere. He then transitions to discussing the numbing effect of continuously documenting violence, noting how atrocities that once dominated headlines now barely register in public consciousness. He positions the current moment as a liminal space between fading media attention and future historical assessment.


El Akkad predicts that when the violence in Gaza eventually ends, those responsible will either vanish or claim ignorance of the severity of events. He criticizes the tendency to attribute systemic violence to a few bad actors rather than recognizing it as an intentional function of oppressive systems. He claims that violence receives different treatment depending on who perpetrates it; state violence is labeled as necessary, whereas acts committed by individuals are harshly condemned. El Akkad extends his critique to environmental catastrophe, noting that despite acknowledging climate disasters, privileged populations only act when directly affected by resource scarcity. He predicts that Western societies will eventually establish truth commissions and offer apologies for past atrocities, but only when sufficient time has passed to make such acknowledgments politically safe.


Despite this bleak assessment, El Akkad maintains hope by documenting acts of courage alongside atrocities. He highlights Palestinian doctors who remained with patients during bombardments, international aid workers operating in conflict zones, artists creating despite displacement, politicians risking their careers to speak out, and ordinary people documenting abuses. El Akkad contemplates how the perpetrators of violence often reintegrate into society while survivors remain haunted by traumatic memories. The chapter concludes with the assertion that none of this suffering was inevitable, using a metaphor of different carriages—some luxurious, others bloody—pulled by the same engine of systemic oppression. El Akkad calls for dismantling the system entirely rather than merely reforming it, expressing conviction that humanity will eventually construct something better

Chapters 9-10 Analysis

El Akkad critiques The Moral Vacancy of Western Liberalism, saying that it professes humanitarian values while enabling atrocity. He details moments where the contradiction became unbearable to him, such as when he attended an award ceremony in Los Angeles and realized: “I’ve lost the ability to be here. I’ve spent the entirety of my life stitching together costumes to make Westerners feel at ease in my presence… And suddenly, I’ve run out of things to wear” (155). This moment crystallizes the author’s alienation from a society that can simultaneously celebrate artistic achievement while remaining indifferent to mass suffering. El Akkad repeatedly identifies the hypocrisy of institutions that condemn violence while funding it, that celebrate diversity while silencing certain voices, and that champion human rights while enabling their violation. He says that the moral emptiness is most apparent in Western officials who frame ceasefire resolutions as threats to peace, revealing a perverse logic that treats the prevention of death as more dangerous than death itself.


El Akkad outlines Future Disavowal of Present Complicity, identifying the pattern by which atrocities are normalized in the moment and then retrospectively condemned. He writes: “When the time comes to assign blame, most of those to blame will be long gone. There will always be feigned shock at how bad things really were, how we couldn’t have possibly known” (182). He says that this pattern of disavowal reveals how societies maintain their self-conception as moral while participating in or enabling immoral acts. El Akkad predicts that the same powers funding and enabling genocide will eventually congratulate themselves for ending it, rewriting history to preserve their moral authority. The text suggests that this cycle of complicity and disavowal is not accidental but structural, and it is central to how dominant powers maintain their position while preserving the illusion of moral progress.


The structure of these chapters mirrors their thematic concerns, alternating between immediate witness and reflective distance. El Akkad moves from personal anecdote to political analysis, and from intimate grief to systemic critique. The text also employs juxtaposition, placing moments of horror alongside moments of absurd normalcy. For instance, the author contrasts his experiences at technology conferences with images of starvation in Gaza, or he describes the scene of a UN ambassador vetoing a ceasefire resolution immediately after describing children dying under rubble. These structural juxtapositions serve not merely as literary technique but as moral argument, forcing confrontation with the cognitive dissonance required to maintain “normal” life amid catastrophe.


El Akkad also employs repetition, particularly of the phrase “one day,” to create a sense of both inevitability and potential. This anaphora becomes especially prominent in Chapter 10, where “one day” shifts from a marker of dread to a possible herald of justice. The text also utilizes extended metaphor, particularly when discussing the “muscle” of resistance: “Every small act of resistance trains the muscle used to do it, in much the same way that turning one’s eyes from the horror strengthens that particular muscle, readies it to ignore even greater horror to come” (167). This corporeal metaphor transforms abstract moral choices into physical capabilities that can be developed or atrophied, suggesting that ethical capacity is not fixed but cultivated through practice. El Akkad also frequently uses lists to create cumulative impact, particularly when cataloging the forms violence takes or the justifications offered for it.


The text references several historical and contemporary figures whose actions represent resistance against systemic violence. El Akkad mentions Aaron Bushnell, the U.S. airman who self-immolated outside the Israeli embassy in Washington D.C. in February 2024 in protest of U.S. support for Israel’s actions in Gaza. The author draws a parallel between Bushnell and Mohamed Bouazizi, whose self-immolation sparked the Arab Spring, noting how differently Western media framed these similar acts. El Akkad also alludes to cultural figures engaged in resistance, such as playwright Victor I. Cazares who conducted a medication strike, refusing HIV medication until the New York Theater Workshop called for a ceasefire in Gaza. These references anchor the text in specific historical moments while suggesting connections across time and geography, creating a lineage of resistance.

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