As an advocate of Palestinian rights, I read a lot of books about Palestine. The problem is, I rarely finish reading them. (It's not just when the topic is Palestine but right now my focus in terms of advocacy is Palestine so I will describe my experience through that lens.) I can read articles on the internet or magazines but reading anything book-length will usually mean another book about Palestine on shelf that remains half read. There are about 8 books right now, the first one being 'Out of Place' by Edward Said, a memoir of a life lived in exile. The current book I can't finish reading is Saree Makdisi's 'Palestine Inside Out, An Everyday Occupation'.
Why can't I finish reading this book? Well, it's hard for me to get through the relentless stories of misery and suffering, which is basically the Palestinian experience for the last 63 years. In the first chapter, 'Outsides', we have the Wall expropriating Palestinians land in the OPT, farmers who can't reach their crops and their subsequent impoverishment, Israel refusal of permits to reach one's land/job/school, Ottoman laws used to expropriate Palesinian land, 40% of the land in the OPT is taken up by Israeli infrastructure including settlements, roads and military outposts and how all this is in violation of the Geneva Convention.
Skipping forward, there are lists of checkpoints and roadblocks, Israeli soldiers quoted as saying 'I was ashamed of myself the day I realized that I simply enjoy the feeling of power' (p.53) to show the abusiveness of the treatment of Palestinians. There's a recounting of the economic impact of the checkpoints and the closure system, how farmers are being impoverished and people in larger towns don't have access to fresh fruits and vegetables within the West Bank because permits are too hard to get, land is too hard to get to. How everything needs permits - people, cars, donkeys. The 2004 World Bank report states poverty levels are rising and 16% of the population cannot afford basic necessities for subsistence (p 61). There are more lists, one of them showing that the annual cost of a permit is $454 but the per capita income in the OPT is $1200 (p63). There's more about the problems faced by Jersusalem residents and how Israel attempts to gain a demographic advantage there through a myriad of policies. and how a Jewish foothold in Hebron is maintained at the expense of the local population. And there's a bit about the 2000 peace talks, about how Israel wants the land but not the people.
And so it goes.
At this point, I'm thinking that I can do this, I can finish reading this book. I got through the first chapter, didn't I? That turns out to be a false sense of confidence. Because the next chapter is called 'Insides' and here he recounts personal stories. I don't know about you but I can handle reading about suffering and misery and injustice if we zoom out and talk about things impersonally and in the abstract. But once we zoom in and start talking individual experiences, it becomes hard for me.
I can handle discussion of the policies used by Israel to decrease the Palestinian presence and increase the Jewish presence. But recounting a woman's experience in the East Jerusalem branch of the Ministry of Interior, where she thinks she is renewing her Jordanian-Palestinian husband's permit but instead is told she must leave in 15 days, just gets to me. Same with personal stories of East Jerusalemites who are not permitted to build on their own land, having their land stolen, etc while Jews can build freely. We veer away from the personal talking about how municipal funding in East Jerusalem has been non-existent but why the water and sewage system was upgraded. Former Mayor Teddy Kollek explains (p112):
'For Jewish Jerusalem I did something in the past 25 years. For East Jerusalem? Nothing! What did I do? Nothing. Sidewalks? Nothing. Cultural Institutions? Not one. Yes, we installed a sewerage system for them and improved the water supply. Do you know why? Do you think it was for their own good, for their welfare? Forget it! There were some cases of cholera there, and the Jews were afraid they would catch it, so we installed a sewerage and water system [to protect] against cholera.
And I stop reading there. I can't go on to read personal stories about Gazans or West Bankers because just the stories from East Jerusalem make me angry and frustrated and bewildered and and have me asking why? I can't read anymore about how Palestinians are treated so differently from Jews, are seen so differently from Jews. Are not wanted. Are something to be gotten rid of. The assumption that Palestinians don't belong there and it's ok to use any means to get rid of them. To discriminate against them. I feel so helpless but I don't want to start hating anyone so to save my sanity I go read something that will uplift me.
Something like the diaries that Tamar has been publishing, telling her daughter's experiences in Palestine as an activist trying to help Palestinians. There's more of that at her daughter's blog. Like western activists flying in to Israel to visit Palestine on the invitation of Palestinian groups and prepared to risk their lives to sail to Gaza to break the blockade and let Gazans know that we care about what happens to them, that they are not forgotten. Like former IDF soldiers talking about their experiences in the West Bank in Breaking the Silence, determined to show just how cruel and inhumane the occupation is. Like Adalah member Assaf also uplifts me with his commitment to the Villages Group, Israeli Jews dedicated to performing deeds of peace. Or reading a statement by indigenous and women of color feminists who decide to strongly endorse the BDS campaign, saying:
We wanted to see for ourselves the conditions under which Palestinian people live and struggle against what we can now confidently name as the Israeli project of apartheid and ethnic cleansing. Each and every one of us – including those members of our delegation who grew up in the Jim Crow South, in apartheid South Africa, and on Indian reservations in the US – was shocked by what we saw. In this statement we describe some of our experiences and issue an urgent call to others who share our commitment to racial justice, equality, and freedom.
Okay, balance restored. There are people from all walks of life who get it. I'm not alone in my feelings of helplessness or anger or frustration or bewilderment or my endless questions: why? I can see that even though there are horrible policies implemented by the state of Israel, there are people of goodwill, both inside and outside Israel who are willing to stand in solidarity with Palestinians and that I stand in solidarity with this movement. I know that we are fighting against policies, not wanting to demonise people. That as activists we need to keep telling the stories of Palestinians so that more and more people become aware of what is happening to them. As awareness grows, so will the willingness to do whatever is within our means to improve their lives and help them to achieve their right to live in their own land and homes, equal to their neighbours no matter what their religion or ethnic origin.
That is my vision of the future in the Middle East, perhaps an improbable one just one year ago but with the advent of the Arab Spring, actuality has been giving way to a reality that is unfolding before our eyes, changing our perspective of what is possible.
And then I think about the Palestinians themselves, the ones I know, so committed to non-violent struggle, to equality and co-existence, who learn Hebrew, who blog, who march weekly at demonstrations for years to ensure that they maintain their dignity and gain their rights. It's not time for me to despair when confronted with their suffering and their courage. I remember the first Palestinians I met, living in a refugee camp in northern Lebanon, their determination to maintain their dignity in grinding poverty, their generosity and laughter, their kindness and humor and the power of a dream that has lasted for decades. The dream of going home. In my relatively privileged life, I must do what is within my power to try to bring about that dream.
And Palestine Inside Out goes onto my bookshelf, half-read.
About the series: Adalah ("justice" in Arabic) is a diary series about the Middle East, with special (but not exclusive) emphasis on the Arab-Israeli conflict. The authors of this series believe in the right of self-determination for all the people of the Middle East and that a just resolution respecting the rights and dignity of both Palestinians and Israelis is the only viable option for peace. Our diaries will consist of news roundup and analysis. We invite you to discuss them in the comments or contribute with stories from the region which deserve attention. We ask only that you be respectful and that the number of meta comments be kept to a minimum.