"Ismi Falasteen" (My Name is Palestine)
The olive tree: at once a symbol of peace throughout the Mediterranean and an embodiment of identity deeply entrenched in Palestinian culture. The olive tree is also the foundation for the economic activity and development in Palestine. Planting an olive tree, therefore, is both expressing a desire for peace and also a desire to protect lands from dispossession and ruin.
The scattered pockets of color which compose this mural are but a symbol of a culture, an identity, which is itself disjointed and in fragments. In contrast, the phrase ‘My name is Palestine’ affirms the existence of this identity. Naming is one manner through which to assert the presence of a people, a history, and a culture.
“The desire to go home that is a desire to be whole, to know where you are, to be the point of intersection of all the lines drawn through all the stars, to be the constellation-maker and the center of the world, that center called love. To awaken from sleep, to rest from awakening, to tame the animal, to let the soul go wild, to shelter in darkness and blaze with light, to cease to speak and be perfectly understood.”
― Rebecca Solnit
On 9th April 1948, exactly 66 years ago, the Zionist terrorist groups Irgun and Stern Gang invaded the Arab village of Deir Yassin. The militia forces entered the village firing upon the homes of unsuspecting villagers who thought they would be safe because Deir Yassin had entered a non-aggression…
- Reblogged from against-acquiescence
The Deir Yassin Massacre occurred before the zionists declared a Jewish state in occupied Palestine. Those “cultural” or “post-“zionists who try to avoid blame by saying it’s the state that’s at fault cannot be allowed to forget this. Zionism at its very core is a racist, violent, and genocidal movement. There is no amount of reclamation or reform that can change that.
- Reblogged from redphilistine
Sitti Aziza, Allah yer7amha outside her home in Deir Yassin, Palestine (1985)
My great-grandmother, Aziza Radwan, was a survivor of the Deir Yassin massacre that took place 66 years ago today. At the time of the massacre, she was at the village bakery as she was every morning at dawn. My grandmother was 10 years old at the time of the massacre. She recounts the details of that day often.
“When we reunited with my mother three days after the massacre, she told us about how the Zionists kept her and other women prisoner in the bakery, proudly waiving around large daggers wet with the blood of others,” she describes.
“They shot the baker and his son, [Hussein and Abdel Raouf Al-Sharif from Hebron], and threw them both in the oven, as a warning to the women.”
My grandmother recounts her mother’s haunting words.
‘If you scream, I will kill you with this knife that has killed many before you.”
The harrowing images of that day remain seared into memory. The legacy of steadfastness and patient endurance will remain alive in the flames of the struggle of the Palestinian people worldwide - in our homeland, in the diaspora, and everywhere the oppressed rise up and resist.
The old will die, but the young will never forget.
Mia nonna è una sopravvissuta del massacro di Deir Yassin. Sessantasei anni dopo, le sue cicatrici continuano a testimoniarlo. Deir Yassin è un nome inscritto indelebilmente nella narrativa palestinese. Quella di venerdì 9 aprile 1948 è una data che resterà per sempre incisa con infamia nella storia.
My article in Italian. April 9, 1948 - Never forgotten.
Tell the stories about the stolen lands and dreams never exiled from memory. Tell the stories of untold violence and inconvenient truths. Tell the stories that stir our spirits and tug us out of ourselves and into the lives of a thousand others. Tell the stories that affirm human joy and dignity as rights – sacrosanct and immitigable. Tell the stories of triumph over tragedy. Tell the stories of love and astounding resonance.Tell the stories that are so much more than the consequence of a catastrophe. Tell the resplendent stories that perpetuate steadfast hope and resistance.
Tell the stories because they matter… they so deeply, richly matter.
Arundhati Roy on NGOs:
"Their real contribution is that they defuse political anger and dole out as aid or benevolence what people ought to have by right. They alter the public psyche. They turn people into dependent victims and blunt the edges of political resistance. NGOs form a sort of buffer between the government and public. Between Empire and its subjects. They have become the arbitrators, the interpreters, the facilitators. In the long run, NGOs are accountable to their funders, not to the people they work among."
Read her full statement here: http://bit.ly/1pKBcIf
"I believe that there will be ultimately be a clash between the oppressed and those who do the oppressing. I believe that there will be a clash between those who want freedom, justice and equality for everyone and those who want to continue the system of exploitation. I believe that there will be that kind of clash, but I don’t think it will be based on the color of the skin…"
— Malcolm X