Discuss human rights with superhero Shalzed
Most criticism of Musk centers on inequality- how is it fair for one person to have such an obscenely large fortune, while so many others struggle to meet their basic needs. But there’s another question- Musk’s fortune enables him to bankroll politicians he agrees with and exert undue influence on the political process. Is the accumulation of such wealth as a threat to democracy itself?
Shalzed wanted to learn more about Earth culture, so I invited him to join me in watching a World Cup game at “The Final Score,” a sports bar near my apartment. When we arrived they were showing Canada’s opening match.
A waiter handed us a menu, then asked if we wanted anything to drink right away. “I’ll have the big apple,” I told him. The waiter looked at Shalzed, who glanced at me. “Bring him one also,” I said.
Shalzed was immediately captivated by the game on the big screen, but then he seemed confused by the momentary excitement when a Canadian player took a shot on goal that went just above the crossbar. “They almost scored,” I told him.
“But it was quite clear from the ball’s velocity and launch angle, combined with Earth’s weak gravitation, that even the random motion of the atmosphere you call wind could not possibly have redirected it to pass into that structure,” he said.
“Sure,” I replied. I wondered if on his planet they had actual sports or more what we would call a math Olympics. The news came on the one tv in the corner that didn’t have sports, and that got Shalzed’s attention. It showed a picture of the FIFA ball in front of Toronto’s stadium covered with a sign that said, ‘Kick Israel out of FIFA.”
“Is Canada playing against Israel?” Shalzed asked. “I thought. . .”
“No,” I interrupted. “Israel isn’t even in the tournament. They just always protest against Israel, no matter what.”
“But why?” Shalzed asked. “They should protest against Canada, since it was recently accused of genocide by an international tribunal. Or they should protest the countries that do have teams in the tournament. Saudi Arabia murders and abuses migrants, discriminates against women. . .”
“They don’t care,” I interrupted. “They just target Israel.”
“But why would they single out one country? If the human rights movement violates its own principles, what good can it do?”
The waiter returned and placed our mugs on the table. Shalzed stared. “That’s not an apple,” he said.
I laughed. “It’s a cider,” I said. “Try it.”
Shalzed took a sip. “It tastes. . . unusual,” he said. “I don’t understand what it has to do with apples.
“It’s apple juice that’s fermented,” I said.
Shalzed sighed. “You humans are so confusing.”
Question: Is constant anti-Israel protest reasonable or productive? Or does an obsessive focus on Israel ruin the credibility of the human rights movement, turning what were supposed to be objective, global norms of behavior into a means of whitewashing personal bias and prejudice?
“Why are all those humans running after the same ball?” shalzed asked.
“It’s called soccer. It’s one of the most popular sports, and this is the championship,” I told him.
The TV shifted to a wide shot of the stadium, packed with people wearing the Mexican team’s green. “Where is this taking place?” Shalzed asked.
“Mexico City. It’s Mexico vs South Africa,” I said.
Shalzed’s blinked three times. “But that’s not possible,” he said. “Certainly an event like that in Mexico would be subject to boycott.”
I wrinkled my forehead. “Why?”
“Mexico was just accused of crimes against humanity. Over 100,000 people have gone missing, often due to gangs, and the government does nothing. Relatives are left to search for their lost family members on their own.”
I didn’t know much about that, so I shrugged. “Only a few of the games are in Mexico,” I said. “The United States is hosting the most.”
“The United States!” Shalzed exclaimed. “Where masked ICE agents pull people off the streets? That conducts extrajudicial killings of anyone the government claims could be a drug smuggler? How could other countries send their sports teams to participate in a competition there?”
The announcer raised his voice, drawing my gaze to the television. A Mexican player was laying on the ground, and the referee held up a yellow card. The crowd was screaming for red. “I think they decided to let the U.S. host a long time before Trump was president,” I told Shalzed.
“That doesn’t explain why the other countries don’t boycott now,” Shalzed replied.
“Some of the games are also in Canada,” I told him.
Shalzed blinked three times again. “An international tribunal just determined that Canada is guilty of ongoing genocide against its indigenous peoples!” he exclaimed. “How can this kicking a ball contest be held in a country guilty of the most serious of all crimes?”
I looked back at the screen. The player on the ground was slowly getting up. “I guess every country is guilty of something,” I said.
“Then why are only some boycotted, while others are not?” Shalzed asked.
I turned back to the TV, because I didn’t know what to say.
England, Austria, and Canada announced plans to donate around $1 million each to support organizations that promote grassroots dialogue between Israelis and Palestinians. But Shalzed has a question. . .
I was scrolling down Yahoo’s home page on my phone when I saw an article that said ‘Aliens Walk Among Us.’ My heart skipped a beat as I clicked on the link. Had Shalzed been discovered?
The website said in big green letters over a space background, “Aliens have been walking among us, living in our neighborhoods, and interacting with us in our daily lives. They live seemingly normal human existences. With one exception — they do not belong here.”
I immediately called Shalzed. I had to warn him. I also started to wonder- maybe he hadn’t come to Earth alone?
“I think you’ve been discovered,” I said as soon as he picked up.
“Discovered?” he asked.
I sent him the website link. He was quiet for a moment, then said with a laugh, “This is about humans in the United States, not me.”
I scrolled some more, and sure enough he was right. There was a list of locations where illegal immigrants had been arrested by ICE, along with crimes they were accused of. Then it said, ‘If you’ve witnessed an Alien abduction, do not be alarmed. The Alien is in good hands. We will take care of it… and return it safely to its place of origin.’
“It’s from your white house,” Shalzed said.
I couldn’t believe it. There was a picture of Donald Trump, and the URL started whitehouse.gov. “This is horrible,” I said. “It makes it seem like everyone in the United States illegally is some sort of invader or dangerous criminal.”
“Isn’t this website likely to cause discrimination, or even violence?” Shalzed asked.
“Absolutely.” Then I sighed. “At least it’s not about you.” I started to realize how much I would miss Shalzed if he left. Then I thought about the millions of people who fear that a loved one could be arrested at any moment, imprisoned, and deported penniless to a distant place where they know no one and may also face danger.
Click here to view the White House website on aliens. Consider this website in relation to Article 20 of the Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, which states: Any advocacy of national, racial or religious hatred that constitutes incitement to discrimination, hostility or violence shall be prohibited by law.
South Africa: We need 18 months to prepare a thorough response to Israel’s utterly absurd rebuttal of our evidence that they are guilty of genocide.
Judge: But two years have already gone by. . .
Israel: If the evidence is so clear, why do you need another 18 months?
South Africa: To do a thorough job.
Judge: Fine. You have until November 2027.
Israel: Then we should get 18 months to write our response.
Judge: Fine. You have until May 2029.
South Africa: But this case is urgent!
Israel: So why don’t you let the judges decide today based on the evidence you’ve already submitted?
South Africa: No thanks, we’d rather not.
Based on a May 21, 2026 ruling of the ICJ giving South Africa 18 months to submit an additional brief, then Israel 18 months to reply.
Maryland Senator Chris Van Hollen wrote an essay in the NY Times saying that Israel has used U.S. weapons not just for defense but also ‘as a sword to bury the two state solution,’ and the U.S. should therefore end Israel’s weapon supply. But what does the U.S. use its own weapons for? Shalzed watches as an Israeli ambassador asks this question.
A conversation between unnamed Israeli and European diplomats overheard by Shalzed:
European: What Ben-Gvir did to the flotilla activists is absolutely unacceptable.
Israeli: You’re right, it should never have happened.
European: I demand he be removed from the government. Israel should pay compensation.
Israeli: How does Europe treat people attempting to enter illegally by boat?
European: Huh?
Israeli: Don’t you let them drown in the Mediterranean, and make rescue a crime?
European: That’s totally different.
Israeli: Oh, okay.
“There are at least a few hundred of us.”
“Yeah, but thousands just came on Jerusalem Day to chant ‘Death to Arabs.’”
“It’s easier to get people to turn out when they’re against something.”
“Well, we’re against hate. We’re against war. Doesn’t that matter?”
— A conversation Shalzed overheard at an interfaith “human rights and peace” march in Jerusalem, May 19 2026.
To villagers, Bukele is a hero. They hand him food in the street, and say their children can finally play outside again.
To human rights groups, Bukele is a villain, making laws that deny accused criminals of their most basic rights.
Shalzed investigates.
I was at the kitchen table grading homework from my Mishnah class when Shalzed called. “How can 500 people be put on trial all at once?” he demanded.
I had never heard of anything like that. “Are you sure?” I asked.
“I just read about it. El Salvador is holding a trial for 500 gang members all at once.”
The paper I was grading seemed to tilt back and forth, and the writing became blurry. “Maybe in El Salvador. They’ve been battling gangs there for a while.”
“But battling gangs doesn’t mean it’s okay to throw innocent people in jail,” Shalzed said.
My apartment stretched, and I felt myself moving away. I was in blackness for a moment, then standing with Shalzed on what seemed like the main street of a dusty village. A middle aged man with a black beard, black moustache, and wearing a black button up shirt was next to us, accompanied by several guards. An elderly woman who seemed to have come from a nearby house was handing him a plastic cup filled with cut pineapple.
“Muchos gracias, Presidente Bukele,” the woman said. She gestured to some children kicking a soccer ball down the street. “Only because of you. Before, no one could go out at night.” She pointed to a nearby grocery store, and I noticed that a water cistern on its roof was riddled with holes from bullets. Bukele looked at the pineapple, then glanced at one of the guards who obediently took it.
“Mass trials mean you are probably going to punish a lot of people who are innocent,” Shalzed said.
Bukele turned to us, and the guards took small steps in our direction. I got the feeling Bukele was out in the village to try to interact with the people, so they had been instructed not to act unless there was any sign of actual danger. “So what should we do, let all the gang members back onto the streets and go back to having shootouts each night?” he asked.
Shalzed waved his arm. “How about just giving each suspected gang member a fair trial. What’s so hard about that?”
“Are you from one of those stupid human rights groups?” Bukele asked. “The ones that come here now demanding rights for gang members but didn’t say a thing when they were terrorizing the country with guns and drugs?”
“No,” I interjected. “He just has some questions, he’s from far away.”
“El Presidente is our hero,” the woman said to Shalzed. She took a half step closer to Bukele, like she was trying to protect him.
“Of course gang members should be arrested,” Shalzed said. “But each one is still entitled to a fair trial.” I felt myself nodding.
Bukele waved his arm. “There are tens of thousands of them,” he said. “A trial for everyone would take decades.”
“So you need more judges,” I said. I mean, that seemed like common sense.
“Money is to build schools, to build playgrounds,” the woman said. “We don’t want El Presidente to spend our money on people who tried to destroy our country.”
“Not only that,” Bukele added. “It’s almost impossible to prove which gang member committed which crime. There’s never enough evidence. So we made it that if you’re a gang member, you’re responsible. That’s enough.”
“So some kid who just joined a gang because it seemed cool gets the same punishment as actual murderers?” I asked. To me that seemed more than a little outrageous.
“Everyone knew what the gangs were up to,” the woman said. “Whoever doesn’t want to be punished shouldn’t have joined.”
“Gangs used to use teenagers to do their dirty work because they knew that teens didn’t face much from the legal system,” Bukele said. “No more loopholes. Have you forgotten that a few years ago, in just one night, 62 innocent people were murdered?”
“But if you toss thousands of innocent people in prison, is that really any better?” Shalzed asked.
Another woman approached, carrying a piece of some sort of cake or pastry in a napkin. “Para usted, el presidente,” she said, handing it to Bukele.
Bukele dutifully took it from her, then turned to Shalzed. “People who never lived under gangs love lecturing us. Why don’t you ask some of these mothers what’s more important- the rights of accused gang members or the right of children to play freely in the street?”
Shalzed blinked three times, like he always does when he’s surprised. “But I thought the right to a fair trial can’t be violated under any circumstances.”
“And what about people’s right to go out at night without fear of being struck by bullets,” Bukele said. “For years no one could go out because of the gangs.”
As both of the women nodded, they seemed to move farther away. A man approached, cell phone in hand, apparently wanting a selfie with Bukele. And then I was in darkness, and back in my apartment, standing next to my kitchen table. I put a hand on the wall to steady myself as I felt my stomach lurch.
I took a glass of water, then sat down at the table. My students’ Mishnah papers were in front of me. According to Torah law, two witnesses are required to convict someone of a crime. I had asked the kids about a passage which said that a Jewish court had to quiz each witness about the exact time and place of a crime, and any discrepancy meant that the testimony was disqualified and the accused went free.
I had always wondered whether that actually work in the real world, or would people start violating the law left and right when they realized how easy it was to get away with it? Would the rabbis insist on upholding laws that let criminals go free even if their own children couldn’t go out of the house because of gangs and gunfights?
Sources:
For coverage of Bukele’s mass trials from the Associated Press, click here.
For criticism of Bukele’s policies from Human Rights Watch, click here.