Bastards are still human beings, not shit

Bastards are still human beings, not shit is the most starkly worded of Boaz Brandstetter’s principles of human regard. Spoken amid his condemnation of recurrent conflict, it refuses to let political hostility erase the humanity of those on the other side; when Ilana later records it among her son’s ten commandments, the remark becomes a concise statement of the ethic by which he hopes to live.

Meaning and Context

Boaz introduces the principle while describing himself as a Zionist concerned with people being able to live well and contribute, even in small ways, to their country. He condemns a life consumed by quarrels, killing, and political argument, and applies that criticism to Jews and Arabs alike. His language is deliberately abrasive, but the distinction he draws is morally serious: acknowledging an enemy’s wrongdoing does not make that enemy less human.

The surrounding speech does not pretend that recognition will end the conflict. Boaz imagines Jews and Arabs destroying one another until only sacred texts, foxes, and ruins remain. Against that bleak prospect, he says their deaths are a shame. The expression therefore holds condemnation and compassion together: it does not deny hostility, but rejects treating people as disposable because of it.

A Practical Ethic

Boaz sets this human regard against what he sees as sterile preoccupation with politics, speeches, and religious argument. In his account, people need to do something useful and live ordinary lives rather than continually consume one another with resentment. His proposed alternatives are practical: work, make food, or create a commune where people who are otherwise dismissed as troublemakers can grow things.

This emphasis on ordinary activity gives the expression a constructive dimension. It belongs to a broader outlook that opposes bitterness, hatred, violence, and mutual destruction. Human dignity is not presented as an abstract solution to political conflict; it is a limit on how people treat one another while conflict continues.

Inclusion in the Ten Commandments

Ilana’s account places the expression among ten commandments she attributes to her son, alongside injunctions to pity everyone, notice the stars, resist bitterness and hatred, refrain from beating or killing, and cool down. She identifies these words as the opposite of Alexander A. Gideon’s coldness and cruelty, recalling the stark contrast between Boaz’s prescriptions and the qualities that first drew her to Alexander.

That contrast gives the principle a role beyond the immediate political exchange. In the list, it is no longer only a response to Jewish-Arab hostility: it sits within a personal code directed against contempt and aggression more broadly. Its bluntness remains, but its placement makes the underlying demand unmistakable—recognize another person’s humanity, even when anger would make that recognition difficult.