All That's Left

All That’s Write

All That’s Write is a living archive of Diaspora opposition to the Occupation, specifically on-the-ground in Israel-Palestine.

Since its inception in 2013, this blog has allowed anti-occupation activists to share stories, analyses, photographs, poems, and other personal expressions in an openly accessible forum.

You can submitting a piece by messaging us on Facebook 
or by emailing 
allthatsleftcollective@gmail.com 💌

  • Shelter Them Beneath Thy Wings

    By Gabi KirkAnd then these Jews, my people, left their homes in the night. And went through fields and over hills, from Ma’ale Ephraim to Duma. And they took gasoline and bottles and lighters and spray paint. And they destroyed the sanctity of another’s shelter. And they killed a baby in his sleep. A toddler…

  • There is No “Tolerance” in Occupation

    By Sahar VardiA society can not be tolerant, can not uproot violence and hate from its midst, as long as it maintains an occupation.

  • Our Nightmares

    By Yonit FriedmanStatehood and military might will not save us from our past.Even if we wanted to deny our collective fear, we could not.Even if we wanted to deny our collective trauma, we could not.

  • A Night of Horror: Stabbing at Jerusalem Pride; Murderous Burning in the West Bank

    By Moriel Rothman-Zecher’I noticed that there was a smattering of blood next to the man lying nearest to me. “He probably was just pushed,” I thought, “and the paramedics told him not to move because they are worried about his spine.” My brain was whirling to find a logic explanation for why these four were on the…

  • Good Riddance to White Supremacists

    By Gabi KirkThe US Campaign to End the Israeli Occupation, a large national coalition-based group with hundreds of member groups, kicked out Alison Weir’s If Americans Knew (IAK) because of the group’s anti-Semitic rhetoric. Yet some people cannot let it go — going so far as to call Weir a ‘heroine of the movement’. There…

  • A Love Letter to my Community on the Occasion of Tisha B’Av*

    By Leanne GaleI am your offspring. The child of number tatooed wrists and minute-long sirens. I can sense what my life means to you – the blood running through my veins, the meat on my bones… /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:”Table Normal”; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-parent:””; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan;…

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