The Long Arc of Resistance

 Reflections on History, Empire, Palestine, Cuba, and the Possibility of Another World. 

by César Omar Sánchez

Summary: This essay's central theme is that while empires, places, and historical actors change, the recurring dynamics of domination, resistance, and solidarity remain. From the ongoing genocide against the Palestinians and their resistance to the Cuban revolution and self-determination, ultimately, it is both a historical reflection and a personal statement of solidarity, affirming the belief that ordinary people can build a more just, humane, and cooperative world.


In today's world, many individuals and communities live in conditions of marginalization and oppression. They are people without stable employment, without political influence, and without meaningful economic power—struggling against oligarchs, ruling elites, and what political theorist Sheldon Wolin described as a system of inverted totalitarianism.
When we examine this reality and compare it to the ancient world, particularly during the Roman conquest and occupation of Jerusalem, striking parallels emerge. Large numbers of peasants were stripped of their land and property, leaving them with no means to feed themselves or support their families. The similarities are difficult to ignore.
As resistance to Roman rule grew, many of these dispossessed peasants and fighters rose up against both the Jewish aristocracy, traitors, and the local agents of the Roman Republic. They traveled throughout the province, gathering those who were suffering, those who had been dispossessed, and those burdened by debt.
In many ways, they resembled Robin Hood-like figures. They challenged the wealthy and powerful, sometimes seizing resources from the rich and redistributing them to those in need. Their actions reflected not only resistance to imperial domination but also a desperate struggle for survival and justice in a society marked by profound inequality.
To the faithful and the poor, these peasant bands were nothing less than the living embodiment of popular anger and suffering. They were heroes—symbols of righteousness, resistance, and zeal in the face of Roman oppression.
The Romans, however, had a different name for them. They called them lestai—bandits.
Of course, "bandit" was often a catch-all term used by Roman authorities for rebels, insurgents, and anyone who challenged imperial rule or its local collaborators. To some, the word was synonymous with thief, troublemaker, or rabble-rouser. But these were no ordinary criminals. They represented the earliest stirrings of a broader nationalist resistance movement against Roman occupation.
My friends and comrades, whether one accepts this interpretation or not, the historical record exists. It is a story that has been studied, debated, and written about for generations. When we place that history alongside the realities of our own time, certain patterns become difficult to ignore.
History does not repeat itself exactly, but it often echoes across the centuries. The circumstances may change. The names, faces, and institutions may be different. It may be a different era and a different stage, but the dynamics remain strikingly familiar.
Perhaps it is not the same show, but it is the same circus.
Those who hold power continue to act as the ringleaders, employing the age-old strategy of divide and conquer—keeping ordinary people separated, distracted, and struggling against one another while the structures of power remain firmly in place.

Let us consider this from another perspective.
When we look at the 1947 UN Partition Plan and the subsequent division of Palestine, we see the origins of a conflict that continues to shape the world today. For many, the creation of the State of Israel represented not only the establishment of a nation but also the displacement of hundreds of thousands of Palestinians in what became known as the Nakba. The consequences of those events are still being felt generations later.
Like the lestai—the peasant bands and insurgents of Roman-occupied Judea, as the Romans called them—Palestinians have continued to resist dispossession and occupation. Those ancient peasants formed the backbone of a broader resistance movement that would eventually challenge Roman authority. In the early years, they were dismissed as nuisances, criminals, and bandits. Yet they emerged from a population that had been stripped of land, dignity, and self-determination.
History presents us with similar patterns. When people lose their homes, their livelihoods, and their sovereignty, resistance often follows. The forms may differ, the circumstances may change, but the struggle for self-determination remains a constant theme throughout human history.
We can draw another parallel with Cuba.
For more than a century, Cuba has lived under the shadow of a powerful neighbor determined to shape its destiny. From military interventions and economic pressure to invasion attempts, sabotage, and blockade, the United States has employed a wide range of measures in an effort to influence the course of the Cuban Revolution. Yet Cuba remains.
Despite enormous challenges, Cuba continues to defend its revolutionary project and its vision of sovereignty. To many around the world, the Cuban Revolution represents more than a political system. It symbolizes resilience, independence, and the belief that another social order is possible.
This is perhaps what troubles powerful interests the most—not Cuba's size, economy, or military strength, but its example. The idea is that a small nation can resist pressure from a global superpower and continue to inspire movements for social justice, national liberation, and international solidarity worldwide.
Cuba offers an alternative way of thinking about society. It raises questions about whether healthcare, education, housing, and human dignity should be treated as rights rather than commodities. It challenges the notion that profit should always come before people.
Whether one agrees with Cuba's path or not, its existence forces a broader conversation about the kind of world we wish to build: a world based on competition and endless conflict, or one grounded in solidarity, cooperation, and human development.
At its best, the revolutionary tradition—whether in Palestine, Cuba, or elsewhere—is rooted in the belief that ordinary people can shape their own destiny and create a more just society. It is the conviction that another world is not only necessary but possible.

NOTE: The UN Partition Plan was adopted in 1947, but the State of Israel was established in 1948.


And that, my dear friends, is why I remain in this struggle.
For more than 20 years, since I joined the Cuba Solidarity movement, I have stood in solidarity with Cuba. I continue to raise my voice against war, against economic coercion, and against systems that perpetuate oppression, colonization, and imperial domination. I believe these structures have caused immense suffering worldwide and that humanity deserves a different path forward.
The current system cannot sustain itself indefinitely. A world built on endless conflict, inequality, and exploitation does not serve the interests of ordinary people. We need a new vision—one rooted in dignity, justice, cooperation, and peace.
That is why I look to Cuba with such admiration. Despite extraordinary challenges, Cuba continues to defend its sovereignty and its revolutionary ideals. It continues to fight for a society built on principles that place human beings above profit and solidarity above greed.
It is painful to witness the hardships the Cuban people endure. The economic blockade, coupled with ongoing political and military pressures, has imposed tremendous burdens on everyday Cubans. Yet, despite these obstacles, they continue to persevere with remarkable resilience and determination.
Cuba will always hold a special place in my heart. No matter what challenges lie ahead, I will continue to stand side by side with the Cuban people, supporting their right to self-determination, sovereignty, and a future free from external coercion.
Their struggle is not only their own. It is part of a larger human struggle for justice, dignity, and the belief that another world is possible. We Demand:
NO WAR ON CUBA! 
END THE BLOCKADE!
FREE PALESTINE!
FREE THE WORLD of ALL OPPRESSION MECHANISM!

Reference: 
Reza Aslan, Zealot: The Life and Times of Jesus of Nazareth (New York: Random House, 2013), 45.