The following edition of the text was used in the creation of this study guide: El Akkad, Omar. One Day, Everyone Will Have Always Been Against This. Canongate Books, 2025. Kindle AZW file.

One Day, Everyone Will Have Always Been Against This, written by Omar El Akkad, begins with an account of the rescue of a young Palestinian girl from rubble in Gaza. Mistaking her rescuers for undertakers, she asks if she’s being taken to the cemetery.

In Chapter One, Akkad’s reflects on his life in Oregon in 2014, far from his childhood in Egypt and adolescence in Qatar. He recalls attending an American school in Qatar during the Gulf War and being asked to write thank-you notes to U.S. soldiers, without understanding why. His family had left Egypt after his father was harassed by the military. Akkad once believed in the West as a place of freedom, but that belief unraveled in the face of global indifference to Israel’s assault on Gaza in 2023, which he calls genocide. He criticizes the dominant narrative that frames violence in terms of the “civilized” versus the “barbaric,” obscuring the true dynamics of power and resistance.

Chapter Two follows Akkad’s move to Canada in 1998, where he discovered uncensored libraries and began to dream of becoming a journalist. After 9/11, he shifted from studying computer science to writing for his college newspaper, eventually interning at The Globe and Mail and training to report from war zones. He reflects on debates around sponsored content and media bias, arguing that journalism has become more about pleasing audiences than confronting power. For him, journalism’s true purpose is “to advocate against silence,” (40) a mission he believes has been abandoned, especially in reporting on Gaza.

In Chapter Three, “Values,” Akkad recalls a border crossing in 2000 when his father was detained by U.S. officials without explanation. He suspects it stemmed from racial profiling and post-9/11 suspicion. A later visa denial deepened his disillusionment with the ideals he once believed the West upheld. He critiques how Palestinians are dehumanized in media and politics and are painted as collectively responsible for Hamas or described by Israeli officials as “human animals.” He condemns figures like Mike Pence and Nikki Haley for writing on bombs bound for Gaza, and argues that Democrats avoid accountability by urging voters to support them solely to block Republicans, rather than offering meaningful alternatives or taking protests against their support for Israel’s actions in Gaza seriously.

In Chapter Four, “Language,” Akkad revisits his time reporting in Afghanistan in 2007, where Afghan soldiers did the most dangerous work with inferior equipment. Akkad criticizes the passive, euphemistic language used by Western media to describe Israeli violence and the use of the term “terrorist” to justify treatment that does not align with international law. He recalls reporting from Guantanamo Bay, where court records were heavily censored, and warns of a future where the total erasure of Palestinians will have occurred.

In Chapter Five, “Resistance,” Akkad recounts a mix-up that nearly put him on Air Force One instead of a Guantanamo Bay-bound flight. He describes the case of Uyghur men wrongly imprisoned due to bureaucratic failure, noting how political cowardice often prevents correction of obvious wrongs. He reflects on American media and film, recalling an essay by Roy Scranton’s suggesting the U.S. resembles the Empire in Star Wars. Initially hopeful about South Africa’s genocide case against Israel, Akkad is frustrated by the lack of meaningful action from both Western and Arabic governments. He recalls the reception of his novel American War. A planned film adaptation was dropped in 2024 due to sensitivities around depicting terrorism and resistance. He notes increasing fear and censorship, including a friend’s book club event being canceled. He argues that in fiction Americans often side with characters in the Palestinian position--the oppressed, not the oppressors.

In Chapter Six, “Craft,” Akkad returns to Cairo in 2010 for his father’s death. Then, he returns again in 2012 to cover protests against President Morsi. In 2023, he declined to attend a Toronto literary award ceremony later disrupted by pro-Gaza protesters, and was disheartened by the backlash to the protests. He criticizes the literary world for its silence, citing the canceled award for Palestinian author Adania Shibli and the professional risks faced by writers who speak out. He questions whether it’s moral to write about safe, apolitical topics while ignoring systemic violence.

In Chapter Seven, Akkad attended the Republican convention in 2015, where Trump was dismissed as a non-serious candidate. He criticizes the Democratic Party for relying on fear of Trump rather than offering real leadership, especially regarding Gaza. He accuses them of prioritizing optics over principle. He warns that silence in the face of atrocity will not be forgotten.

In Chapter Eight, “Fear,” Akkad recalls a 2018 book tour. Akkad describes conflicting reactions to a passage in his novel inspired by the Sabra and Shatila massacre: it was considered too graphic by American readers, but it was considered too restrained by Egyptian readers. He recalls a storm that nearly injured his daughter, reflecting on how Western fear is politicized while Palestinian fear is ignored. He critiques a 2024 immigration bill and an article comparing Iran to a wasp, seeing both as examples of dehumanizing rhetoric. Drawing parallels to genocidal language in Rwanda, he recounts personal experiences of Islamophobia while reporting in Canada and the greater attention paid to small-scale terrorism than to state violence. He ends by praising Jewish protesters opposing Biden’s policies on Gaza and reflecting on how history is framed to favor colonizers.

In Chapter Nine, “Leavetaking,” Akkad reflects on Aaron Bushnell, a man who self-immolated outside the Israeli embassy. He criticizes media portrayals that reduced the protest to the result of mental illness. He compares it to how the West romanticized Mohamed Bouazizi’s similar protest in Tunisia that sparked the Arab Spring. Akkad condemns the U.S. veto of a UN ceasefire resolution and the silencing of economic boycotts. Despite his despair that acts of protest are not producing any tangible results, he argues it is essential even when it feels futile.

In Chapter Ten, “Arrival,” Akkad’s daughter suffers a life-threatening illness. Her illness has made him more afraid than he has ever been. He ends the book with a call for courage, insisting that though this moment feels hopeless, the violence will one day end. Then, those who stayed silent will be judged. Until such time, we must each do what we can to build a more just world.