For Palestinian poets, their poetry has a special meaning. It serves as a reminder of the home they once had and considers the possibility of returning, for things will never be the same again. In the face of Zionist propaganda, art becomes a tool for action, mobilization and resistance. When lives and livelihoods are torn apart, words become a medium for reconstructing the Memory of home.
The strategy of destroying the resolve of poets who have the courage to expose the displacement, killing and dispossession of Palestinians by the Israeli authorities and warmongers is not a new phenomenon. Priscilla Washington notes: “If words had no power to influence people’s feelings, then the Israel Defense Forces would not arrest poets and other writers.” She believes that one must never allow an oppressive system to define the meaning that art has for us and our community has.
For her “poetry is not a life-saving operation. No matter how many times we repeat the metaphor: poetry is not water. It cannot write the bombs out of the sky. It cannot put the bodies of a loved one back together or create a safe place for a mouse to sleep in Gaza. But that doesn’t mean that poetry, or words in general, are useless in a time of genocide.”
Rasha Abdulhadi claims: “Writing can be propaganda, counter-propaganda, or distraction. It can mean healing, harm, or escape.” Now is the time to cast sand on the waves of genocide. For him, poetry is this sand.
Here are five poems from the heart of Palestine that express both the desire for freedom and the will to resist Zionist occupation.
1. The shelling ended by Najwan Darwish
In his poem, Darwish presents a haunting image of his house, which has been reduced to ruins by bombs. The flames ignited by the bomb surround the poet with quiet rage. There is no room for mercy in this country, there is only misery. No one will be remembered and forgotten tomorrow. His words have a warning tone and make it clear to everyone that the shelling will spare no one.
Source: AA
“Tomorrow no one will recognize you anymore.
The shelling ended
only to start again within you.
The buildings fell, the horizon burned,
Just so that flames rage within you,
Flames that devour even stone. . . “
Over the 20 years since he began writing about the atrocities committed by Zionist forces, he has seen his poems shared again and again, and it is chilling how his words continue to maintain their timelessness. These words underpin the feeling of being everything a Palestinian is – helpless, yet enduring and resilient, and trace the lived experiences, hopes and longings for a safe homeland. They serve as a reminder to show compassion for the incessant suffering that Palestinians experience every day, a feeling, a fear that, ironically, cannot be articulated by us and cannot be fathomed by us.
2. If I Must Die by Rafaat Alareer
Refaat AlareerBefore he was killed in an Israeli airstrike, he immortalized his fellow Palestinians who endured, fought and ultimately succumbed to the violence in the poem “If I Must Die.”
Source: Wikimedia Commons
“If I have to die
you have to live
to tell my story
to sell my things
buy a piece of fabric
and a few strings,
(Make it white with a long tail)
with it a child, somewhere in Gaza
while I look into the sky’s eyes
He waits for his father to go up in flames –
and don’t say goodbye to anyone
not even to his flesh
not even for yourself –
sees the kite, my kite, that you made, flying high above
and thinks for a moment that an angel is there
Bringing love back.”
The poet attempts to illustrate the sheer inhumanity of the Zionist occupation of Palestine and the atrocities they committed against men, women and children. Yousef Aljamal described the poet as “the giant of the Palestinian narrative who comes from Gaza”.
It is a hopeful reminder to readers that the Zionist forces’ terrorizing, supremacist agenda is to completely erase the existence of Palestine, mute voices from the country, suppress the brave who dare to resist their oppression, and to erase their identity from the face of this earth. He immediately captures the cruel violence inflicted on them and their unwavering will to resist, revolt and survive. He believes that this very spirit must not be extinguished and must be passed on to the next generation.
3. What is home? by Mosab Abu Toha
Some may argue that words alone cannot help dodge a bullet or free the innocent, but if we cannot imagine a just, free world in our collective imaginations, in our words, then how can we create one?
Source: Poetry Foundation
The poet attempts to capture the essence of home, from the soothing shade to crumbling walls, his mother’s warmth and the devouring fried chicken before a bomb wreaked havoc. Ultimately, he must ask himself whether a four-letter word is enough to capture every feeling associated with home. Is it just a physical structure or another word for the homeland, the people, the victims, the martyrs, is it not a sense of belonging, a shared past, collective ideas and experiences?
“What is home:
It’s the shadow of the trees on my way to school
before they were uprooted.
It’s my grandparents’ black and white wedding
Photo before the walls collapsed.
It’s my uncle’s prayer rug, which has dozens of ants living on it
slept on wintry nights before it was looted and
put in a museum.
It’s the oven my mother used to bake bread
Fried chicken before a bomb destroyed our house
to ashes.
It’s the cafe where I watched football games
and played—
My child stops me: Can a four-letter word count?
all that?”
4. Hamza by Fadwa Touch
Fadwa Tuqan shows that resistance through words is no less remarkable than resistance through weapons. The former becomes a form of protest that deprives individuals of the right to reject the hegemonizing dominance of a politics of hate. She personified the country as a whole “wearing a cloak of mourning in windless silence.” Perceiving the land as living and breathing and having a heart that beats, Hamza nurtures the dream of its survival and revival.
Source: Wikimedia Commons
“Hamza was one of the common men of my hometown
who did manual labor for bread.
When I saw him recently,
The land still wore its mourning garment in the solemn, windless silence
and I felt defeated. . . .
But Hamza the Unusual said:
“Sister, the beating heart of our country never stops beating,
and it perseveres, enduring the unbearable and keeping the secrets of hills and wombs.
This land full of cacti and palm trees also produces freedom fighters.
This is our country, my sister, our mother!”
Hamza is seemingly an ordinary man, but the message Tuqan wants to convey is that the responsibility of maintaining his home lies with the common man. Even if we are powerless and poor, the will to freedom, coupled with an intense love for the land, will never be in vain.
5. We Teach Life Sir by Rafeef Ziadeh
These words were written in response to a Ask asked by a journalist to the poet: “Don’t you think everything would be okay if you would just stop teaching your children hate?” tied to frustration and the urge to expose the media’s apathetic silence about the genocide that the Palestinians endure and succumb to every day.
Source: AA
She believes journalists are afraid to challenge the status quo and are unwilling to highlight how Palestinians survive every day, even when they have lost their roofs and still refuse to let go of their roots. They have been alienated from their family and friends by “Apartheid walls.” Land can be conquered, but not the determination of the millions of Palestinians who have a deep sense of connection to their land and its people.
“We teach life, sir.
We Palestinians teach life after occupying the last heaven.
We teach life after they have built their settlements and apartheid walls, after the final heaven.
We teach life, sir.”
Remembering one’s land is like returning to one’s roots, not only for the poets of Palestine but for the entire nation, which faces the collective fate of the erasure of its identity and a constant struggle for survival.
For the disarmed and displaced Palestinians, poetry is the only weapon they possess. Her voice and her words are perhaps a substitute for her physical powerlessness.
In the face of massive ethnic cleansing and crimes against humanity, poetry becomes a spatiotemporal tool to promote Palestinian emancipation and resistance.
It grants the opportunity to tell your own version of the truth. Because it’s not just about political emancipation, but also about the emancipation of the human heart.
This is by no means an exhaustive or representative list. Suggestions to add to this list are welcome in the comments section.
