Generations Imprisoned
I was always confused by the word “catastrophe.” It rendered the perpetrator anonymous, and it exempted the Palestinians from bearing any weight of their oppression. Like many Palestinians of my generation, we grew up everywhere besides Palestine: physically, spiritually, and emotionally disconnected from where we know we belonged.
I did not grasp the true meaning of the word until I went back to Palestine in 2016. In the alleys and passageways, on the cobblestone path soaked in ashes of burning villages, I discovered Catastrophe. Hundreds of people found themselves setting up temporary housing, but temporary became permanent, and people found themselves setting up a nation built on memories and hope. They are waiting in suspended time, refusing to accept that the world will not recognize their tragedy.
It has been 72 years since the Nakba — Catastrophe for the Palestinians. But what does that mean?
The day starts early for many Palestinians, communities of farmers who wake to fields of olive trees and dates. For them, the trees are symbols of resistance. Their roots deeply embedded: into the fabric of history and culture. Though, for hundreds of Palestinians they sometimes awake to their trees being burned by military forces — their livelihoods now ashes.
During the Coronavirus Pandemic, the dehumanization of Palestinians has only gotten worse, “In the past few months the occupation has cracked down on Palestinians in and out of palestine. They have increased raids and restrictions while making normalizations with Arab countries,” an Anonymous source living in Bethlehem said.
For other Palestinians in cities like Jerusalem, they start the day differently, their lives filled with checkpoints, walls, patrols, and military posts which restrict their human right to movement. These checkpoints meant to dehumanize and disconnect the Palestinians to their land, while also “protecting” the illegal settlers colonizing their land. These checkpoints are essentially herding the cattle, Israel funneling Palestinians into lines of acceptance or rejection, monitoring their behavior as if they are animals.
As a Palestinian-American, I myself must cross checkpoints to even enter the country I was born. This process entails the hardening journey from Amman to the Al-Karameh Bridge. After the Israeli military destroyed all Palestinian airports, this is the only way to enter — through hours of checkpoints at which any time they can deny you entry for no reason. During COVID19, checkpoints have gotten more difficult to cross while medical equipment is barred from reaching those in need. When speaking to an Anonymous source from Jerusalem, they said “We do not have enough equipment to treat COVID, in the recent months the occupation has demolished COVID testing sites and have confiscated testing kits. They have used COVID-19 as a weapon against us. If the occupation does not kill us they want the virus to.”
Palestinian children face a similar process on their way to school. Each morning, Palestinian children awake in fear under the constant threat of armed soldiers parading their villages, wielding weapons of mass destruction pointed at twelve and thirteen year-olds. Why you may ask? To “protect” them from the settlers which have encroached on the land surrounding their homes.
Sadly, other families do not even get the luxury to wake up in their homes each morning. Night raids have become increasingly popular. The Israeli Army has been conducting night raids on Palestinian towns since 1967, either in hopes to disorient families while they attempt to demolish their homes or to dismantle their movements towards liberation and equality. Soldiers break down doors in the middle of the night for no other reason but to try and suppress the Palestinian spirit — little do they know our spirit is not going anywhere. Palestinians often participate in peaceful protest for their basic human rights, one source saying “We take part in weekly demonstrations and preserve our identity which threatens Israel. We also encourage people all over the world to visit Palestine to truly see our situation.” However, due to COVID19, “there are not as many weekly demonstrations.”
If Palestinians are lucky enough to make it past checkpoints, to wake up with their homes still their own, and to have their land not burned, they each face a different reality depending on where they live. For Palestinians living in Bethlehem, they work alongside the Apartheid Wall, a constant reminder of the segregation and ethnic cleansing they face because they were born on the “wrong” side. For Palestinians in Jerusalem, they are restricted from certain areas, unable to attend their place of worship at the discretion of the Israeli military. For Palestinians in Gaza, they live in the world’s largest open-air prison, having lived through the worst of human conditions.
The Palestinian landscape as been further shaped by the Jungle of Illegal Palestinian Child Imprisonment — where the children are prey to a growing predator. Since 2000, over 10,000 Palestinian children between the age of 12–17 have been detained, prosecuted, tortured, and incarcerated by forces in the West Bank and Gaza. That is for those who are lucky enough not to be murdered.
When much of the global community turns their backs to you, denies your existence, you are left with nothing else but to fight like your life depends on it, and it often does. Though, during protest, Palestinians are often killed, left permanently disabled, or subjected to aggressive policing procedure (i.e. Knee on the neck) which is also being used by U.S. police forces. For Palestinians, ““Something normal like walking down the street could cost you your life,” said one source.
These are the lives of Palestinians in Palestine. For the five-million+ Palestinians made refugees, they live a stateless, torturous life, where the world deems their existence invisible. Nonexistent.
For Palestinian Americans, like myself, our existence is a political statement. A constant protest and symbol of resistance that we exist, that our lives DO matter. When speaking to Palestinian American Haneen Bayyoud, she felt a similar sense of disillusionment in her identity: “Everywhere we look we have to constantly be reminded of the tremendous support of our oppressors. We have to carry the burden of knowing no matter what we do, America will always side with Israel.”
I often imagine what if Palestine was never Occupied? 97% of people would not have contaminated drinking water, ten of thousands of children would never have been incarcerated, schools and homes would never have been demolished, and the Palestinian people would know freedom. This is why Palestinians need to be central in the discussion of our liberation — we need to create a society where it is not okay for human rights to be so blatantly dismissed while the perpetrators of mass violence are celebrated. It is not okay for a singular nation to receive billions in military funding when that funding is used for the sole purpose of Catastrophe.
I will not forget my first home or the people I came from. Within me is their tenacity in times of immense destruction and sorrow, to thrive in a world where they can be free. But I will not forget my duty to stand up for what is right. I will continue working for a future where all Palestinian, Israeli, and other children will be able to close their eyes and see freedom in every direction. That they will open their eyes and see the future they have built together.
