Threads of Connection: Environmental Injustice in Palestine and How APEN is Organizing in the Bay Area

ByAustin Mendoza, ERI Data Analyst and Jeffer Giang, ERI Senior Data Analyst

The subjugation of a people often starts with the subjugation of their environment.

The keffiyeh tells us that the Palestinian people are deeply connected to their environment through its three patterns – the olive leaves communicates their strong connection to the land and its groves of olive trees, the fishnet symbolizes their connection to the sea, and the bold lines recount a geographic history of trade routes running through the region. Over the past 76 years since the Nakba dispossessed and displaced more than half of the Palestinian population – including what a United Nations Special Rappoteur has found “reasonable grounds” to label as an ongoing genocide in Gaza –  the Israeli occupation and militarization of Palestine has wreaked havoc on the physical environment that is so central to millions of Palestinian livelihoods and identities.

Over 7,000 miles away in Richmond, California, environmental justice organizations like the Asian Pacific Environmental Network (APEN), see connections between Palestine and the work that they do in the Bay Area. We recently had the privilege of speaking with APEN Richmond Organizing Director Megan Zapanta to learn more about the connections between environmental justice, Palestine, and APEN’s organizing work. 

Megan shared with us that “APEN really came out of the formation of the environmental justice movement. Since the beginning, opposing militarization, but also uplifting self-determination of Indigenous peoples and land [have] been intrinsic to the movement and part of the core principles [of APEN].” Indeed, APEN has been advocating against U.S. militarism for decades – notably coming out against the Iraq War more than 20 years ago – and has been particularly prolific in their public calls for a ceasefire and Palestinian liberation since October 2023. That month, APEN and partner organizations brought the Richmond community together for a youth-led vigil in solidarity with the people of Gaza. APEN also helped to mobilize hundreds of people to successfully advocate the Richmond City Council to pass a resolution “in solidarity with the Palestinian people of Gaza,” making Richmond the first city in the U.S. to do so.

Community members gather for an APEN youth-led vigil holding candles. A young female with a yellow sweater stands at the front of the crowd holding a microphone to speak.
Community members gather for an APEN youth-led vigil. Photo courtesy of APEN

 

A diverse group of people holding candles standing solemnly at an APEN community youth-led vigil
Community members gather for an APEN youth-led vigil. Photo courtesy of APEN

 

In particular, APEN has used their Instagram profile to draw public attention to environmental injustice in Palestine, educating users on the connections between the current genocide and the preceding decades of occupation, and share opportunities to get involved in local advocacy efforts. APEN’s use of social media has tapped into a rich vein of online advocacy that has proliferated since the start of the genocide, as millions of users have indirectly witnessed and been kept appraised of the latest atrocities by Palestinian journalists in Gaza like Bisan Owda

 

So what environmental injustices have been created in Palestine over the past decades? 


The land upon which Palestinians have planted their
olive trees for centuries – as symbolized in the keffiyeh – has been systemically and illegally (according to a recent ruling by the International Court of Justice) dispossessed by Israel in an occupation of the West Bank that has continued since 1967. Today, most of the land area of the West Bank is under full Israeli state control, with only 36 percent under full or partial control by the Palestinian Authority. Over 300,000 trees in the West Bank were fully or partially destroyed by Israeli military forces and settlers between 2008 and 2020, according to estimates by the Palestinian Land Research Center – with the olive tree being the most targeted, trees that can live for hundreds if not thousands of years. 

The once-plentiful fishnets of Gazan fishermen in the Mediterranean have become rare, as continuing restrictions by the Israeli state on fishing off the coast of Gaza, violence against Palestinian fishermen by the Israeli military, and the restriction of markets have decimated the fishing industry. Only about 4,000 registered Gazan fishermen remained as of 2023, and much of their fleet has been destroyed since the start of the genocide in Gaza. Untreated wastewater has also contaminated both fishing waters and drinking water in Palestine over the course of decades of Israeli occupation and accompanying limits on building out sanitation infrastructure. 

The physical infrastructure upon which Palestinians historically built their crossroads of trade has been under attack by the Israeli state and military, especially since the start of the genocide in Gaza. Just between October 2023 and February 2024, more than 25,000 tons of explosives were dropped on buildings, roads, and infrastructure in Gaza – leading to the destruction of more than 60 percent of all homes as of June 2024. This has resulted in an estimated 39 million tons of debris and has contaminated the urban environment with unexploded ordnances, heavy metals, toxic chemicals, and human remains.

 

So what has driven APEN members in the Bay Area to advocate for Palestine?

 

While these injustices might seem quite specific to Palestine, organizers like Megan see connections between the experiences of the people in Gaza and those of their own community members. The shared historical (and contemporary) traumas are real. Many of the refugee community members with whom APEN organizes, migrated from Laos to Richmond because of militarism. Megan shared that not only were these members “forced to migrate here because of the Secret War [in Laos] and the Vietnam War, but [they] also were living under French occupation and U.S. occupation. This is very, very familiar to them, and I feel like they see themselves very much in those struggles.” 

These struggles share lasting environmental health parallels with Asian American diasporic communities as well. Between 1964 and 1973, the United States dropped more than 2 million tons of bombs on Laos during the Secret War – making it the most heavily bombed country per capita in history and deeply affecting Mien communities who have a “deep cultural connection to the land,” as shared by Megan. A recent report from Euro-Med Monitor estimated 70,000 tons of bombs had been dropped on Gaza by Israel between October 2023 and April 2024. During the Vietnam War, the U.S. military’s widespread use of herbicides like “Agent Orange” caused an estimated 400,000 deaths or permanent injuries to Vietnamese civilians, and the extensive use of napalm was infamous for its ability to melt and burn human flesh. The Israeli military was accused by human rights organizations like Amnesty International of dropping white phosphorus on civilian centers in Gaza in late 2023 – which can also cause severe and deadly burns to those exposed. 

 

Are there other ways to think about weaving threads and points of solidarity?

 

Just as organizers often meet people where they are geographically, it can be equally powerful to meet them where they are emotionally. Finding surprising entry points into an issue through personal connections to individual or community experiences can be incredibly effective. For instance, consider Palestinian embroidery. Its intricate, checkerboard-style patterns bear a striking resemblance to Mien textiles. This shared artistry creates a beautiful bridge between the two cultures, connecting them not just through shared trauma but also through a shared heritage of craftsmanship and tradition. Such connections remind us that common ground can be found in the most unexpected places, fostering deeper understanding and solidarity.

In her own personal life, Megan shared with us that she’s a part of a local soccer activist group that connect over ways to support and show up at actions against the ongoing genocide – inspired in part, perhaps, by the resilience of the Palestine national soccer team, which is still in contention to qualify for the 2026 FIFA World Cup despite not being able to play their home matches in Palestine. 

One of us authors, Austin, was particularly inspired as a queer person by the heartbreaking graphics from Queering the Map. These graphics inspired Austin to follow the lead of LGBTQ+ people from Palestine and around the world to advocate for Palestinian liberation, learn more about how Israel uses pinkwashing to co-opt the fight for LGBTQ+ rights to justify their occupation of Palestine, and engage with friends and family in conversations about how the liberation of queer Palestinians is intrinsically linked to our own queer liberation in the United States.

On the more environmental side, the other of us authors, Jeffer, is inspired by their love of birdwatching to advocate for fellow birdwatchers in Palestine. Birdwatchers in Palestine may face similar restrictions in movement in the occupied territories of Palestine, where accessing and possessing cameras and binoculars can raise suspicion from Israeli authorities. Not only is the participation in such a benign activity made complicated under apartheid rules, but the destruction of the land impacts the local ecosystems and wildlife as well. The same article above notes, “Across the occupied Palestinian territories, birds build nests in shrapnel holes or checkpoints, and perch on the concrete walls, barbed-wire and fences that segregate and confine Palestinians.” This haunting imagery vividly illustrates how the struggle for environmental preservation is inextricably linked to the fight for human rights.

Similarly, residents of Southeast Los Angeles might identify their own environmental experiences with Exide with those of Gazans who have seen their soil contaminated with lead from Israeli munitions. Indigenous Californians might resonate with Palestinians in Wadi Qana, who are largely barred from cultivating the resources of their own land because it’s now been designated as a nature reserve by Israel. And, of course, residents of Richmond, California can draw connections between their own advocacy against the local Chevron refinery and Chevron’s continued remittance of royalties to the Israeli government.

Regardless of the avenue, meeting people where they are at and making these personal and historical connections across experiences to speak up against genocide and its intersection with environmental injustice may be the most important lesson to take away. For those newer to activism, Megan highlighted the importance of finding community and sustainability, and of feeling a part of a movement that is “growing..and that’s going to last.”  Advocates have been doing this work for decades already – there’s no need to start from scratch! There’s plenty of room to learn from your own community, and from others. And it is not just individuals that should speak up – organizations have the power to make change as well. In her call to action, Megan says that “it’s the time to speak up, and the more that organizations of all sorts…speak up, the more it’s a visible and public issue and the safer it is for all of us.” Organizations should also follow the lead of  Palestinian and Arab-led organizations – as APEN has tried to do as well.

Over the past 76 years, the keffiyeh’s environmental patterns have grown into a symbol of Palestinian resistance against injustice – the fishnet for the threads that knot individuals into a collective, the olive leaves for the resilience of the Palestinian people through Israeli occupation, and the bold lines that reminds Palestinians of their historic importance as a hub of cooperation and exchange. As the Palestinian Youth Movement reminds us, “[Palestinian] history and struggle…cannot be defined by victimhood. Instead, they are defined by a relentless persistence toward liberation, even under the most brutal colonial conditions.” 

We too can stand in solidarity with Palestine and do our part to fight against Israeli occupation and genocide through actions here in California.

Environmental injustice in Palestine is not a problem that is going to be solved tomorrow. It has been happening for decades, and exists in a broader context of Israeli occupation and global environmental destruction. To call for environmental justice in Palestine is to call for equity for the Palestinian people, for an end to occupation and apartheid. To call for environmental justice in Palestine is to call for environmental justice everywhere, for places like Richmond. 

Just as APEN organizers have been doing over the past months and decades, let’s call for it and get involved. Whether that involvement is protesting in the streets, advocating for action by lawmakers, sharing educational resources on the broader context of Palestinian occupation or the current genocide, donating e-SIM cards to individuals in Gaza, or anything else that you or your organization has capacity for.

It’s not too late to stand up for Palestine. Each of us has a role to play in this fight for justice and humanity. The time for action is now. Let us unite, raise our voices, and demand change. 

Together, we can make a difference and bring hope to those who need it most. Stand up, speak out, and take action. For Palestine, for justice, and for a better world.

 

 

 


About the authors:

Austin Mendoza (he/him) holds a Master’s degree in Public Policy and a Bachelor’s degree in Psychobiology from UCLA. Having been raised in a biracial family during times of great climate upheaval in California, Austin is passionate about advancing equity and building solidarity in all realms – with a particular focus on environmental justice.

Prior to joining the Equity Research Institute, he worked with the City of Los Angeles to conduct policy analysis and community outreach on extreme heat in environmental justice communities. He has also previously done international climate justice-related work with federal agencies, and worked as a journalist for LGBTQ+ newspapers in LA.

Before moving to LA, Austin grew up in San Diego – and still loves the beach, the outdoors, and good Mexican food. In his spare time, you can find him hiking, diving, practicing photography, and searching for the best small restaurants in the city. 

 

Jeffer Giang (they/she) holds a Master’s degree in Social Welfare from UCLA and a Bachelor’s degree in Asian American Studies and Women and Gender Studies from UC Davis. Prior to joining the Equity Research Institute, she was a research analyst at Asian Americans Advancing Justice-Los Angeles in the Demographic Research Project. She co-authored reports focusing on disaggregated data for Asian Americans, Native Hawaiians and Pacific Islanders including reports focusing on AANHPI older adults in Los Angeles County, AANHPIs in the San Gabriel Valley, and a national report on AANHPI immigrants.

Prior to Advancing Justice, Jeffer was an MSW intern at Community Coalition as well as the Institute for Applied Behavior Analysis and also served as a community outreach intern with the California Healthy Nail Salon Collaborative through UCLA Labor Occupational Safety & Heath Program’s Occupational Health Internship Program.

Jeffer grew up in Sonoma County in Northern California and has a soft spot for the North Coast and coastal redwoods. In her spare time, Jeffer enjoys birding and bird/wildlife/astro photography. She also writes and occasionally performs ambient/shoegaze music.