radio silence
Hello all,
It's been a long, long time since I've written, and I've heard from some folks asking why. The main reason is that school is incredibly overwhelming and I don't have much time. In addition, I'm most interested in continuing to write to you about Israel-Palestine, but from this side of the ocean I'm confined to a more analytical role -- a role very different from the reacting I was doing over the summer.
A solution to this quandary has presented itself in the form of my comp lit. class on Palestinian Literature, providing me with lots of new material to respond to. With that in mind, I plan to post some of my writing for that course here. Please let me know what you think -- does this work? Would you rather read other material, or none at all?
~b.
The following essay is in response to Ghassan Kanafani's Returning to Haifa, written in Arabic in 1969. I read the translation by Barbara Harlow and Karen E. Riley in Palestine's Children (Colorado: Lynne Reiner Publishers, 2000), their collection of short fiction by Kanafani.
Most of the footnotes are added here, and weren't part of the original essay.
10/11/2005
CO181.3
Response #2 (week 5)
The climax of Ghassan Kanafani’s Returning to Haifa emerges as Dov, born Khaldun, returns to his Israeli adoptive mother’s home in Haifa where his Palestinian biological parents are waiting, having returned to their former home in Haifa for the first time in twenty years when they were forced to leave. [1] During the ensuing scene, many arguments attacking and defending both Palestinian and Israeli positions are hashed and rehashed, but those arguments are not what captured my interest.
The moment Dov is presented with his “original parents” (p. 179), he denies their connection to him, which seems reasonable as a first reaction from a person in his position. The readers understand his skepticism as he asks “Don’t tell me they want to take me back?” And yet, the conversation about who “owns” him happens immediately anyway. Using an abandoned child as the symbol for an abandoned country adds an unusual twist to the debate about the legitimacy of Israel’s possession of its country, however, since unlike land, which can only be anthropomorphized, a child actually has his own views and preferences which ought to be considered when deciding his fate.
The translator presents two interpretations of Dov/Khaldun’s symbolism and message: Mansur sees Dov as a symbol of Israel today: seized by force and then developed (likely by means of erasure and by developing Israeli national narrative, as discussed in earlier weeks’ readings) so that new “facts on the ground” emerge and Israel’s character seems certain (p. 27). The conversation must hover closely to the partitioned/pro-Israel side of the spectrum, to connect this to our discussion of the map assignment. [2] In contrast, Radwa Ashur sees the journey and visit as representing the Palestinian people coming to terms with their abandonment of Palestine and failure to act for twenty years (p. 21).
Kanafani himself could have doubtless had room for both of these interpretations, which dovetail even as they conflict. Said’s character, however, is much less clear. Like Dov, I am left asking “What do you want, sir?” (p. 180). Did you expect to find Khaldun alive, eager to meet you again, and ready to go home with you? Early that same evening Said “felt he’d never be able to reach his goal. They were on a collision course here, it couldn’t be denied.” What was his goal? Having Miriam, who readily acknowledged how she came by their house and possessions, still largely laid out as they had been 20 years earlier, go further and relinquish all of it to them with no reservations? Erasing the “Dov” from Khaldun and having a purely Palestinian child as they would have had they never left Haifa in the first place? Even Edward Said argues in Culture and Imperialism (albeit about a different situation entirely) that the developments of intervening years can not be ignored. Two generations of Israelis have been born and brought up in the 57 years since 1948. While they must live with the consequences of their forebears’ decisions, and are without a doubt responsible for the injustices and expulsions perpetrated during their own times, they cannot be found guilty of being born where they were and building their identity around it. And Israel can never unexist - even in a hypothetical future where Israel were no longer a state, the “Israel epoch” in this region’s history and formation would have happened. Within the context of this novella, even were Dov to embrace his Palestinian roots, he could not erase his twenty years growing up as an Israeli with Israeli parents, living through several wars and losing his father in one of them, and so on. Even if Said knew what his goals were, they would be unreasonable, the inverse of the process described by Piterberg, Swedenburg and Abu El-Haj. [3]
Ultimately, it comes down to a matter of sides. Harrowed by Said’s interrogation, Dov retorts: “You have no right to ask those questions. You’re on the other side” (p. 180). Here the non-dialectic socialist idealist in me comes out in force: Why must we have sides at all? [4] Why does this child have to be either completely Dov or completely Khaldun, with none of the other identity? He was born Khaldun, and lived many formative years as Dov. Is there room for the child to embrace both of those identities? To go with Said and Safiyya, but at the same time be a proud Israeli? Live in his house recognizing that the peacock feathers he played with all through his childhood were vestiges of his Palestinian life, then actively seeking to rediscover those roots? Could he eventually move past the recognition of these roots and integrate both into his future development?
Outside the context of this novella, what would happen if we moved past loaded ideological terms like “terrorism” and “occupation” to recognize that Jews and Muslims, Israelis and Arabs share a great deal of cultural heritage and connection to this land, and that the land could develop positive identities for both simultaneously? Both Jewish and non-Jewish Israelis and Palestinians are suffering abuse, discrimination and human rights violations as documented by Mussawa, A’dalah, Human Rights Watch, B’tselem and countless other organizations. Not to minimize the importance of looking at the ideological terms, national experiences, narratives, and so forth. But as far as guiding our actions today: these abuses must stop. It’s not a matter of “sides,” of Campus Watch denying that archaeology is a constructed science or a debate champions pointing out that it doesn’t matter how far-fetched and ridiculous a point is, but that if you can argue well you’ll convince your audience. Who benefits from that? OK, a lot of people. I’m living and writing in a dream-world, and I know it.
Footnotes
1. The passive voice is used deliberately here. Within the context of the novella, it is clear that Said and Safiyya do not leave Haifa voluntarily. I'm not going to tackle the question of who is responsible here.
2. Students in our class were asked to prepare a map of Palestine in preparation for studying the region's literature. The nonexistance of a standard map or officially recognized Palestinian state led each student to create a different map based on different sources and ideology; this was the point of the assignment. One interesting point which emerged from the lively debate was the fact that on a theoretical spectrum from 100% Palestinian state to 100% Israeli State, with a 50/50 partition in the middle, almost all diplomatic solutions to dividing the space sit very close to the Israeli side. Positions advocating a 100% Jewish/Israeli state and "transfer" of Palestinians are unpopular but within the scope of discussion, especially in Israel. In contrast, anyone suggesting anything like there being an unpartitioned Palestinian State is completely excluded from discussions.
3. Gabriel Piterberg, "Erasures," New Left Review 10 (2001), pp. 31-46; Ted Swedenburg, from Memories of Revolt: The 1936-1939 Rebellion and the Palestinian National Past (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1995), pp. 38-75; and Nadia Abu El-Haj, Facts on the Ground: Archaeological Practice and Territorial Self-Fashioning in Israeli Society, (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2002). These authors use different approaches and sources to argue that in the process of developing its own national mythology and reenforcing its connection to the land, Israel systematically erased almost all of the established Palestinian presence, connection and relationship in that place. I won't argue in support or against this thesis here, but this is the theory I'm referring to in the essay. I found El-Haj's book dense and awkward, but highly recommend the shorter essays as easy and thought-provoking reads. If you read them, let me know and we can discuss the articles!
4. In a theoretical sense, of course. As I discussed with JG over the summer, calls for unity or giving up sides/partisanship usually result in one position silencing others and falsely asserting a united front. Please don't read this as a call for unity: it's more a dream for parties to move past their particularistic self-focus.