The Leech Directive: U.S. Genocide Playbook Expands to Yemen
This isn’t mission creep—it’s imperial choreography. The language is copy-pasted, the lies are rehearsed, and the goal is the same: annihilate resistance, starve the people, and call it peace.
Ashes Before the Invasion
The Empire’s Appetite Is Never Satisfied
It always starts with a whisper—a headline that slips past most eyes: “Airstrikes haven’t worked.” It sounds like analysis. It’s actually a threat. This is how the machine prepares itself to devour. Not because it must—but because it can.
The U.S. is preparing for a ground invasion of Yemen. That sentence should shatter something in you. But in this empire, atrocity is Wednesday. CNN and The New York Times aren’t sounding alarms—they’re paving the way. They’re softening the public for what comes next: more death. Another map turned graveyard. More Arab lives treated as disposable, more children erased under rubble, more mothers forced to bury pieces of their family in the dirt.
Make no mistake—this is not a new war. This is a continuation. The U.S.-Saudi coalition has already spent years turning Yemen into a mass casualty site, unleashing famine, disease, airstrikes on hospitals and school buses. And now? The air campaign isn’t “efficient” enough. The violence needs to be more direct, more tactile. We’ve entered the phase of flesh.
They call it neutralizing threats. But the only threat the empire fears is resistance.
Blueprints of Extermination
How the U.S. Perfects Israel’s Genocide Script
The U.S. isn’t just waging war—it’s replicating a formula. The Gaza blueprint. The Zionist model. The siege-starve-bomb-repeat strategy that turns nations into concentration camps and then blames the inmates for burning.
This is not coincidental. It’s ideological and strategic synergy. “Israel” did not merely teach the U.S. how to justify slaughter; it became the testing ground for modern genocidal warfare. What worked in Gaza is being scaled up for Yemen.
Blockade the population—cut off fuel, food, medicine. Create desperation. Starve the children first.
Bomb the survivors—target hospitals, refugee centers, bakeries. When people gather for aid, strike again.
Frame resistance as terror—strip AnsarAllah of political legitimacy, history, or sovereignty. Call them “Houthis,” reduce them to caricature.
Call it self-defense—even when your troops aren’t defending anything. Even when your ships are parked thousands of miles away from home.
Lie first, investigate never—accuse the Yemeni military of using human shields. Provide no evidence. Let the headline do the killing.
It’s settler-colonial choreography. The only difference is the dialect—“freedom of navigation” instead of “right to exist.” But the script is the same: erase, demonize, destroy, deny.
This isn’t a war against AnsarAllah. This is a war against defiance. A war against a people who said no. No to empire. No to siege. No to silence. No to genocide.
Ashes in the Mouth
Starvation, Spectacle, and the Genocidal Grammar of Empire
What the U.S. is planning for Yemen is not just military—it’s metabolic. It’s famine as a foreign policy tool. It’s siege warfare dressed in logistics, starvation framed as unfortunate side effect.
Already, U.S. strikes have destroyed vital infrastructure. Power grids. Fuel depots. Bridges. Now, the move toward a ground invasion means one thing: escalate the hunger. Make survival itself a crime.
This is how the West punishes disobedience: not with swift death, but with slow, orchestrated collapse.
In Gaza, we watched the same genocidal choreography:
Block the entry of food, then bomb the bakeries.
Destroy desalination plants, then blame the people for drinking dirty water.
Starve a generation, then accuse the starving of raising resistance fighters.
Now, it’s Yemen’s turn in the empire’s death spiral.
And just like Gaza, the media will help. They will sanitize famine with phrases like food insecurity, economic crisis, complex emergency. They will not say siege. They will not say genocide.
But we will.
Because when a child dies with no food and no medicine, that’s not negligence—it’s execution by policy. That’s iatrocide and paisicide braided together in one colonial chokehold.
There is no humanitarian war. No compassionate siege. The U.S. isn’t defending global stability—it’s burning through Arab nations to fuel imperial control.
And what will the headlines say?
The rebels wouldn’t surrender.
The crisis is complicated.
There are no innocents in Yemen.
But we know better. We always have.
Blueprints of Blood
From Gaza to Saada: Genocide as Policy, Not Exception
The U.S. isn't inventing new tactics in Yemen—it’s scaling a model. A blueprint of blood, drawn in Gaza, refined in Iraq, rehearsed in Afghanistan. A logic of annihilation passed between empires like a weaponized heirloom.
“Israel” didn’t just inspire the U.S.—it trained it.
The targeting of journalists? Perfected in Khan Younis, now mirrored in Saada.
The blockade-then-bomb doctrine? Field-tested on 2 million Palestinians before turning to 34 million Yemenis.
The lie of “precision strikes”? Copied wholesale from IDF press releases, right down to the use of the phrase human shields.
This isn’t abstract theory. The Pentagon studies Israeli operations. Police forces train with Israeli military personnel. Surveillance tech developed in occupied Palestine is exported to U.S. borders, prisons, and protest crackdowns. Every act of genocide becomes a commodity. A strategy. A sales pitch.
And now that model has been turned on Yemen—with the same tools, the same PR, and the same genocidal smirk.
This isn’t just imperial mimicry—it’s partnership in atrocity. Settler-colonial synergy. While the U.S. bombs Yemen, “Israel” gives the manual. While “Israel” flattens Rafah, the U.S. sends more bombs. One trains, the other funds. One executes, the other markets.
Together, they’ve built a world where genocide is not the failure of diplomacy, but the success of empire.
And Yemen, like Palestine, is being sacrificed to keep that empire fed.
Sanctions Are Siege, Silence Is Smoke
Starvation as Warfare, Consent as Cover
Empire doesn’t always announce genocide with mushroom clouds. Sometimes, it starves children with Excel spreadsheets and embargoes. Sometimes, it kills with silence.
Yemen has been under siege for nearly a decade—long before the first U.S. airstrike of 2024. The blockade has choked medicine, fuel, food, and water. Malnutrition has claimed more lives than missiles ever could. And every delay in aid? Every bureaucratic “concern”? Every sanitized press release? That’s genocide too—by omission, by design.
And the world? Complicit in its quiet.
The U.N. can’t muster more than “deep concern.”
NATO powers funnel weapons with one hand and resolutions with the other.
Human rights groups issue “grave warnings” as if genocide hasn’t already unfolded in broad daylight.
Sanctions are siege. “Concern” is complicity. And every hour without outrage is another hour that a Yemeni child goes without food, medicine, or breath.
Even so-called progressives—quick to weep for Ukraine—suddenly fall silent when Yemen bleeds. Because the victims are Arab. Because the aggressor is the U.S. Because colonialism, when done politely, still wears a suit and votes blue.
When the U.S. says it's “targeting Houthi infrastructure,” they mean roads. Clinics. Aid routes. Journalists. Farmers. They mean survival.
This is not strategy. This is strangulation.
The Cartography of Erasure
Rewriting Resistance as Terrorism
Every empire maps the world in blood—then calls it order.
To understand the U.S. push for a ground invasion of Yemen, you have to understand what it fears: not AnsarAllah’s missiles, but their defiance. Their refusal to be colonized. Their rejection of normalization with genocide.
So the narrative war begins:
AnsarAllah becomes “rebels” instead of Yemen’s de facto armed forces.
Acts of defense are rebranded as “provocations.”
Solidarity with Palestine is painted as extremism.
And the West’s war crimes are hidden beneath the language of stability, security, deterrence.
This isn’t new. This is the same colonial cartography that called Indigenous land “unsettled,” enslaved people “cargo,” and Gaza’s resistance “terror.”
In this map, U.S. warships are guardians of peace.
Yemeni children? Just collateral.
A bombed hospital? A regrettable necessity.
And a hunger-striking mother who buries her son with her bare hands? Not even a footnote.
The cartography of empire redraws the world in its own image—an image that leaves no room for Arab autonomy, no tolerance for Islamic sovereignty, and no place where a people can rise without being crushed.
But AnsarAllah shattered that map.
They said no.
They stood with Gaza when the world turned away.
And for that, they were marked for elimination.
Fire for Solidarity
The Price of Saying “No” to Empire
When Yemen stood up for Gaza, the empire answered with bombs.
Not because AnsarAllah posed some existential threat to the U.S. homeland—but because they dared to act in defiance of empire’s rules. Because they refused to let genocide go unchallenged. Because they said, openly, unapologetically: “We will not stand by while Palestine is annihilated.”
And that kind of solidarity? It terrifies colonial powers.
Because if Yemen can say no to imperialism, so can others.
If Gaza’s cause becomes global, the empire’s foundation shakes.
So they light fires—to make an example out of Yemen.
To bury resistance in rubble.
To remind the world what happens when you choose the side of the oppressed.
This isn’t about freedom of navigation.
This is punishment.
It’s why 100 civilians can be martyred by airstrike and Western media calls it “defensive.”
It’s why “aid” is turned into leverage, and starvation into policy.
It’s why the U.S. and “Israel” echo each other’s lies about “human shields” while raining fire on journalists, medics, schools, food convoys.
Yemen became a target not because it’s a threat to the world, but because it threatens to awaken it.
Because every missile fired at U.S. warships is also a flare—illuminating the truth:
Empires are not invincible.
Their violence is not sacred.
And their victims do not always stay silent.
The Blueprint Repeated
Settler Synergy and Genocide as Governance
The U.S. isn’t merely backing Israel—it’s replicating it.
Every tactic the U.S. now employs in Yemen bears the signature of the Zionist regime. It’s not coincidence. It’s coordination. A shared genocidal language refined in Gaza, rehearsed in Fallujah, and now deployed across Red Sea waters and Yemeni skies.
The playbook is familiar:
Siege as Weaponry: Cut off ports. Choke fuel. Starve medicine. Claim it’s pressure—not punishment.
Civilian Dehumanization: Say “Houthi-controlled areas” instead of “villages,” instead of “homes.” Make it easier to bomb.
Legal Gaslighting: Invoke “self-defense” in international waters. Rebrand aggression as restraint.
Information Control: Feed headlines to NYT and CNN. Tell the world you’re “reluctant,” even as the body count climbs.
What Israel perfected in Gaza—total warfare on a besieged population while selling it as moral clarity—the U.S. is now applying to Yemen with surgical precision.
The result is a mirror:
Flattened schools.
Torched farmland.
Children in body bags wrapped in slogans like “security” and “deterrence.”
This is not just imperialism. It is genocidal mimicry.
Settler synergy at its most violent.
And the U.S. is not learning from Israel—it is reveling in it.
The Currency of Death
Trade Routes, Blood Routes, and Manufactured Consent
They’ll say it’s about freedom of navigation.
About protecting ships.
About stability.
About order.
But the only thing being secured is capital.
Every drone strike, every air raid, every whisper of a ground invasion isn’t about safety—it’s about safeguarding empire. The Red Sea is being baptized in blood to keep oil flowing, weapons selling, and hegemonic power intact.
The U.S. isn’t responding to danger.
It’s enforcing a hierarchy.
Yemeni resistance is criminalized not because it’s violent, but because it threatens imperial control.
Civilian death is normalized because the people dying are Arab, Muslim, impoverished, and uncolonized.
Starvation becomes strategy, not tragedy. And the media echoes the euphemisms: instability, disruption, escalation—as if children’s corpses are mere turbulence in a geopolitical current.
There is no moral ambiguity here.
It’s not a clash of civilizations.
It’s a commodification of them.
Yemen’s sovereignty is not a threat.
It’s an inconvenience to imperial logistics.
And in this economy of empire, the only acceptable Yemeni is a silent one.
Ashes of the Unseen
Erasure as a Weapon of War
No body count can measure what is lost when genocide is cloaked in silence.
The U.S. doesn’t just kill with bombs. It kills with forgetting. It kills with invisibility. It kills with the casual ease of a morning headline buried beneath stock market updates.
Yemen has been bombed for nearly a decade, and yet it is still framed as “news.”
As if this isn’t the continuation of a war that was never allowed to end.
As if every child buried under rubble wasn’t already forgotten before they even died.
The victims aren’t unnamed—they’re unacknowledged.
The war isn’t secret—it’s deliberately unremembered.
The genocide isn’t hidden—it’s just unfashionable.
And now, as the U.S. prepares a ground invasion, the media prepares its alibi.
CNN says the airstrikes “aren’t working.” The New York Times resurrects the lie of “human shields.”
It’s all been done before. The blueprint hasn’t changed—it’s just been translated.
The goal isn’t just conquest. It’s obliteration of witness.
If the world cannot name what it sees, then it didn’t happen.
If Yemen is turned to ash and no one is left to say why, the U.S. wins the war not just over land, but over memory.
But we refuse disappearance. We name the war.
We name the dead.
We name the empire that burns them.
There Will Be No Quiet
Refusal, Resistance, and the Work of Memory
They want silence.
Not peace.
Silence.
Silence as obedience.
Silence as complicity.
Silence as surrender.
But we are not here to offer quiet. We are here to rupture it.
The U.S. is preparing to invade Yemen under the same genocidal playbook it co-authored with “Israel”—siege, starvation, massacre, media whitewash. But resistance refuses erasure. It rises through the rubble. It writes through the blockade.
Every student protest crushed, every medic assassinated, every journalist burned alive in Gaza is a warning. Every drone dropped on Yemen is a confession.
And we are listening.
And we are documenting.
And we are speaking.
This is not the beginning of a war. It is the continuation of a genocidal system.
One that sees Arab life as disposable, Arab sovereignty as intolerable, and Arab resistance as criminal.
But they are not criminals.
They are not victims waiting to be saved.
We are the archive.
We are the indictment.
We are the interruption.
Let the empire call it whatever it wants.
We will call it what it is:
Genocide.
Colonialism.
Theft.
Murder.
And we will not be quiet.