"I have no further doubt that the
God we knew in Palestine is already out of there, and that he is now a refugee
somewhere." -- Ghassan Kanafani (Prominent Palestinian writer)
Today,
the 15th of May, marks the 65th anniversary of Nakba (Arabic for Catastrophe),
the exodus of an estimate of 700,000 Palestinians from their homes by the hands
of the Zionist militia/terrorists (pick your phrase) in 1948. You see, I am not
here to talk about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict as a whole, for talking
about this issue would take forever and long-lasting debates. I am not here to
fill up your head with some kind of propaganda either; your government, the
T.V.,and your newspapers have been doing so for centuries. Forgive my
randomness through this blog entry, because all I want to do is to express my
thoughts about this ominous date, with a little bit of the Palestinian
narrative, and what Nakba means to us, Palestinians, as humans.
"The old will die, and the young
will forget."
-- David Ben-Gurion (Israel's first
prime minister) on Nakba
I
am the third generation of the Palestinian refugees. Both of my grandparents
from both sides of my family had to flee from their homes in Yafa/Jaffa, where
their families have lived for generations. When I was a little kid, my
grandfather used to tell my siblings and I stories about his home and the
Yafa-brand orange groves that the city was popular for. He used to tell us
about Yafa's beautiful beach, and how the city was known as the "Bride of
the Mediterranean". His stories were always nostalgic; he always kept them
warm and happy, and I could always see how bad he wanted to go back to Yafa by
the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes. He never told us about the
fighting, about the massacres, or about how he fled and found his way to Gaza.
I guess he did not want to disturb the mood and the happy memories he had about
his home. Unfortunately, when I was old enough to understand my reality and how
deep that conflict goes, it was too late for me to ask about the dark side of
my grandfathers memories. He passed away taking his memories and his dream of
returning to his home with him. My grandfather was not the only old man talking
to his grandchildren about his long-ago lost home. Every Palestinian refugee
who lived the unforgettable, tragic events of Nakba acted the same way
my grandfather did. David Ben-Gurion, the first prime minister of Israel, said
that "the old will die, and the young will forget". You see, he was
right about the first part, because everybody dies eventually, but he's
completely wrong about us forgetting Nakba; every Palestinian child,
young, and adult knows about Nakba, and where s/he is originally from.
Every single Palestinian heard stories about their long-lost village or city,
and about the massacres committed by the Zionists. Nakba is not
something easily forgotten. Nakba is a core and essential event in the
Palestinian-Israeli conflict. Nakba is the reason I am called a
"refugee" by the United Nations. Nakba is a Nakba! But in the
end, the title "refugee" is not the only thing that is passed down
from one Palestinian generation to the next, the dreams of the deceased, their
nostalgic stories and rusted keys, and their hopes and right to return are also
kept safe with their descendants.
"I am not a terrorist, but neither
am I a pacifist. I am simply a regular guy from the Palestinian street
advocating only what every other oppressed person has advocated—the right to
help myself in the absence of help from anywhere else." - Marwan
Barghouti (Prominent Palestinian Political Figure)
Nakba
is considered one of the most devastating and disturbing events in the
Israeli-Palestinian conflict. It included a systematic depopulation of
Palestinian villages by both exiling and massacring their inhabitants. The
Zionist underground Militia of the Haganah, Irgun, and Stern committed these
horrible acts. In the 1980’s, the Israeli government decided to release some,
and not all, of the declassified documents concerning the events of the 1948
(cited below). The documents were shocking, for they illustrate an image
contrary to the one the Israeli leaders had been selling to the world,
especially the West. When the clashes broke out through out the land, the
Palestinians were portrayed as the aggressors, while the Zionist militia—later
the Israeli army—were only defending themselves; the documents reveals the
opposite. On 15 December 1947, David Ben-Gurion, head of the Jewish community
in Palestine at that time, wrote to Moshe Sharett, head of the political department
of the Jewish Agency: “The [Palestinian] peasant masses are not taking part in
the riots.” Few months later, he wrote again: “The [Palestinian] Arabs in their
great majority are not seeking war with us.” On the other hand, all the Zionist
militant groups constantly sough war throughout the country for the sole
purpose of expelling the Palestinians. At the beginning 1948, on the start of
the war, Ben-Gurion wrote in his diary: “During the assault we must be ready to
strike a decisive blow; that is, either to destroy the town or expel its
inhabitants so our people can replace them” (Kapeliouk, 17). And so they did.
Many cities and about 250 towns were either emptied or wiped off the map
(Kapeliouk, 21). For example, on 4 October 1948, Dayr Yasin, a town located in
the western suburb of Jerusalem, was completely destroyed by the gangs of Irgun
and Stern; these gangs “slaughtered 254 inhabitants, mostly women and children”
(Kapeliouk, 17) throwing hang grenade into houses full of people. By the end of
the expulsion operation, some 700,000 Palestinians were either exiled or fled
in terror. “The two main reasons for the Palestinian exodus of 1948 were
expulsion by the Israeli army and fear of massacre” (Kapeliouk, 21); this is
terrorism at its best. As the course of the depopulation was processing, Michel
Bar-Zohar, Ben-Gurion’s biographer, recalled how Ben-Gurion had watched the
Arab exodus from Haifa with the words: “What a beautiful sight!” (Kapeliouk,
22).
In
an interview (cited below) with George Habash (one of the most prominent
Palestinian political figures who promoted armed struggle), Habash narrated his
personal experience during Nakba and how it affected his political
activism. Mahmoud Soueid--his interviewer--asked him about his whereabouts when
the Zionist militia attacked Lydda—his hometown. Habash explained how he was
helping at the hospital (he was a doctor), when the bad news of the death of
older sister reached him: “my sister had been killed, my older sister whom I
loved dearly [he pauses to control himself]”, then he continued, “As I rushed
through the streets, there was great confusion. Dead and wounded, some of whom
I knew, were strewn along the side of the road”. Later on, Jewish militants
stormed his house, screaming: “Out! Out! Get out!”. As Habash and his family
moved, not knowing where to go, they reached the borders of the town, where a
checkpoint was setup to search people. One of his neighbors concealed some
money and would not let them search him. As a response, “a Zionist soldier shot
him dead right in front of [their] eyes” (Soueid, 88). Habash was overcome with
emotion as he narrated these events, and then he ended his answer with a very
powerful statement explaining why he—it also applies to those who believe in
armed struggle—resorted to armed resistance/terrorism (pick your phrase): “You
wonder why I have chosen this road, why I became an Arab nationalist. This is
what Zionism is about. After all this, they talk about peace. This was the
Zionism that I knew, that I saw with my own eyes” (Soueid, 89). As we can see,
the political activism of Habash—and whoever experienced similar events— was
driven from his personal experience or the experience of the ancestors, the
experience of losing loved ones, the loss of land, and the humiliation, all
caused by the Zionists. There was no Palestinian who had not experienced what
Habash had to go through. To Habash, and to many others, there was no other way
to fight the Zionists except by the use of violence, especially in the absence
of help from the international community. If you ask why groups such as the PLO
(in the past) and Hamas (currently) fight, well, this is the biggest part of
your answer--Nakba.
Looking back at what the Palestinians had been through during
the disturbing events of Nakba and after, resorting to violence against
the Zionists at that time was only logical. When asked about his views about
terrorism, Habash answered: “It really pains me that Israel, which was founded
on terrorism, is now being sanctimonious about terrorism. Why am I here rather
than in Lydda? Because I was expelled through the use of terrorism” (Soueid,
100). I have to agree with Habash on this one. As the declassified documents we
mentioned above reveals, the expulsion of the Palestinians from their towns was
systematic, and the events were horrifying. Naturally, someone would have to
pick up arms to either fight for the cause or to get revenge. I might or might
not agree with violence as a solution to the issue, because violence breeds
more violence, and the loss of life is devastating. But what the Palestinians
had been through on the hands of the Zionists is no light matter. If the
Zionists came to Palestine with the message of “let us live together”, instead
of what Ben-Gurion had said, “[let us] destroy the town or expel its
inhabitants so our people can replace them”, the PLO or Hamas would never have
existed, neither any other Palestinian militant groups.
"Here on the slopes of
hills,
Facing the dusk and the cannon of time,
Close to the gardens of broken shadows,
We do what prisoners do,
And what the jobless do:
We cultivate hope."
-- Mahmoud Darwish
In
the end, the most important questions are, will there ever be peace? Would
there ever be a one state, two-state, three-state or whatever solution to the
conflict? And what brings about this solution, is it peaceful resistance, armed
resistance, diplomacy, or a mix of all? Is there really any hope for a future
in a land that once called the holy land? To be honest, as days pass by, I keep
on losing bits of hope. I cannot help it; the conflict goes from bad to worse
as you are reading this, because Nakba is not only the events of 1948.
To us Palestinians, Nakba is present in our refugees camps, in our
refugees status, in the schools sponsored by the United Nations, in the rusted
keys of the demolished houses, in the Israeli military checkpoints, in the
Israeli airstrikes, in the demonstrations against the segregation wall in
Bi`lin and Bethlehem, in the stories of my grandfather, and in his dreams of
returning. Nakba is present, Nakba is remembered.
Citations:
