I hate America

I Hate America for Helping Israel

Let me be clear: when I say “I hate America for helping Israel,” I don’t mean I hate Americans. I don’t hate the ideals of democracy, freedom, or human rights that this country claims to uphold. What I hate is the hypocrisy. I hate the billions in aid sent to a country that continues to occupy, displace, and bomb a stateless, defenseless people. I hate how my government turns a blind eye to Palestinian suffering, and how the media spins tragedy into "self-defense" for one side only.

For decades, the United States has been Israel’s biggest financial and political backer. Every year, billions of U.S. taxpayer dollars go to fund the Israeli military — the same military accused by multiple human rights organizations of apartheid, ethnic cleansing, and war crimes in Gaza and the West Bank. These aren’t fringe opinions; Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch, and even Israeli groups like B’Tselem have documented systematic abuses.

Despite this, the U.S. continues to send weapons, veto UN resolutions, and label any criticism of Israel as antisemitism. This conflation is dangerous. It shuts down dialogue. It turns legitimate concern for Palestinian lives into a thought crime. And worst of all, it reinforces the idea that Israel is above international law.

Why does America help? The reasons are complex — ranging from strategic alliances, political lobbying (most notably by AIPAC), to the influence of Christian Zionist groups. But none of these justifications excuse the moral cost. The U.S. prides itself on being a global leader, a beacon of justice. Yet its unwavering support for Israel contradicts everything it claims to stand for.

How can a country that protested Russia’s invasion of Ukraine then defend Israel’s bombings of civilian homes, schools, and hospitals? How can we speak of international law when we ignore the Geneva Conventions in Gaza? How can we cry over the deaths of Israeli civilians while remaining silent about entire Palestinian families being wiped out in airstrikes?

This double standard is not lost on the world. It’s not lost on the millions who marched in cities across the globe calling for a ceasefire. It’s not lost on the children in Gaza who draw tanks and drones instead of trees and birds. And it’s not lost on Americans like me, who are tired of our tax dollars funding oppression in the name of alliance.

Some will say I’m unpatriotic. But patriotism is not blind loyalty — it’s holding your country accountable when it strays from its values. It’s demanding better. It’s standing with the oppressed, not the powerful. And right now, America is on the wrong side of history.

To those who say it’s complicated: yes, it is. But complicity is not a neutral stance. Every bomb dropped, every home demolished, every life lost is a direct result of policies that the U.S. supports and sustains. If you fund it, defend it, and silence critics — you are part of it.

I hate that my country makes me feel complicit. I hate that Palestinian lives seem to matter less in the eyes of my government. I hate the normalization of war crimes under the guise of self-defense. And I hate that speaking out about it can get you labeled antisemitic, disloyal, or worse.

But I also believe in change. I believe in the power of public opinion, in grassroots movements, and in the younger generation that’s not afraid to speak truth to power. I believe in a future where the U.S. stands on the side of justice, not just strategic interests. And I believe that future starts with honesty — no matter how uncomfortable it may be.