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| Palestine Chronicle | | The Palestine Chronicle is a 501(c)3 non-profit organization whose mission is to educate the general public by providing a forum that strives to highlight issues of relevance to human rights, national struggles, freedom and democracy in the form of daily news, commentary, features, book reviews, photos, art, and more.
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| | | EDITORIAL | Of Hajah Zainab - Is Palestine still the central issue for Arabs? Aug 9 2016 / 7:10 pm By Ramzy Baroud Palestine is increasingly absent from Arab consciousness, at least at the official and media levels. For years, the discussion has veered elsewhere, to other regions and various other concerns, as Arab regional alliances are no longer driven by the 'question of Palestine.' Whether one blames that neglect on the so-called Arab Spring, or explains it in context of regional rivalry, the facts cannot be negated or even ignored. "Palestine no longer tops the agenda of most Arab intellectuals," a dear Saudi friend and respected writer told me recently. "But the few of us who remain, will continue to fight for Palestine," he insisted. That assessment confirmed my own reading, and that of many others regarding the dwindling significance of Palestine in current Arab political discourse. The oddity is that although Palestine has been pushed to the back of the line - now crowded with wars and conflicts in Syria, Libya, Yemen and elsewhere - it in fact remains the single most important prerequisite for peace and stability in the region. That peace and stability is not merely a moral imperative to end decades of Israeli colonialism and military occupation; but Israel has proved to be the most common threat to the region. Its past and present are laden with military aggression, occupation and constant interventions in other countries' affairs. Thus, the 'question of Palestine' is in fact the 'question of peace' in the entire Middle East region as well. But how did we get here, to the point where Palestine is no longer the primary issue? Is this a question of history, the Arab Spring, or regional rivalry? We are all Hajah Zainab At the age of 21, I crossed Gaza into Egypt to pursue a degree in political science. The timing couldn't have been worse. The Iraq invasion of Kuwait in 1990 had resulted in a US-led international coalition and a major war, which eventually paved the road for the US invasion of Iraq in 2003. I was told that Palestinians were 'hated' in Egypt because of Yasser Arafat's stance in support of Iraq at the time. I just did not know the extent of that alleged 'hate.' It was in a cheap hotel in Cairo, where I slowly ran out of the few Egyptian pounds at my disposal, that I met Hajah Zainab, a kindly, old custodian who treated me like a son. She looked unwell, wobbled as she walked, and leaned against walls to catch her breath before carrying on with her endless chores. The once carefully-designed tattoos on her face, became a jumble of wrinkled ink that defaced her skin. Still, the gentleness in her eyes prevailed, and whenever she saw me she hugged me and cried. Hajah Zainab wept for two reasons: taking pity on me as I was fighting a deportation order in Cairo - for no other reason than the fact that I was a Palestinian at a time that Arafat endorsed Saddam. I grew desperate and dreaded the possibility of facing the Israeli intelligence, Shin Bet, which was likely to summon me to their offices once I crossed the border back to Gaza. The other reason is that Hajah Zainab's only son, Ahmad, had died fighting the Israelis in Sinai. Zainab's generation perceived Egypt's wars with Israel, that of 1948, 1956 and 1967, as wars in which Palestine was a central cause. No amount of self-serving politics and media conditioning could have changed that. But the war of 1967 was that of unmitigated defeat. With direct, massive support from the US and other western powers, Arab armies were soundly beaten, routed at three different fronts. Gaza, East Jerusalem and the West Bank were lost, along with the Golan Heights, the Jordan Valley and Sinai. It was then that some Arab countries' relations with Palestine began changing. Israel's victory and the US/West's unremitting support convinced some Arab governments to downgrade their expectations, and they also expected the Palestinians to do so, as well. Egypt, once the torch-bearer of Arab nationalism, succumbed to a collective sense of humiliation and, later, redefined its priorities to free its own land from Israeli occupation. Without the pivotal Egyptian leadership, Arab countries were divided into camps, each government with its own agenda. As Palestine - all of it - was then under Israeli control, Arabs slowly walked away from what they once perceived to be the central cause of the Arab nation. Eventually, Egypt fought and celebrated its piecemeal victory of the 1973 war, which allowed it to consolidate its control over most of its lost territories. A few years later, the Camp David accords in 1979 divided the ranks of the Arabs even more, while granting the most populous Arab state a conditioned control over its own land in Sinai. The negative repercussions of that agreement cannot be overstated. However, the Egyptian people, despite the passing of time, have never truly normalized relations with Israel. Chasm In various Arab countries, a chasm still exists between the government, whose behavior is based on political urgency and self-preservation, and a people who, despite a decided anti-Palestinian campaign in various media, are ever determined to reject normalization with Israel until Palestine is free. Unlike the well-financed media circus that has demonized Gaza in recent years, the likes of Hajah Zainab have very few platforms where they can openly express their solidarity with the Palestinians. In my case, I was lucky enough to run into the ageing custodian who cried for Palestine and her only son all those years ago. Nevertheless, that very character, Zainab, was reincarnated in my path of travel, time and again. I met her in Iraq in 1999. She was an old vegetable vendor living in Iraq's Sadr City. I met her in Jordan in 2003. She was a cabbie, with a Palestinian flag hanging from his cracked rear-view mirror. She was also a retired Saudi journalist I met in Jeddah in 2010, and a Moroccan student I met at a speaking tour in Paris in 2013. After my talk, she sobbed as she told me that Palestine for her people is like a festering wound. So, did the Arabs betray Palestine? The question is heard often, and it is often followed with the affirmative, 'Yes, they did.' The demonizing of Gaza in some Arab media, the targeting and starving of Palestinians in Yarmouk, Syria, the past civil war in Lebanon, the mistreatment of Palestinians in Iraq in 2003 - these are often cited as examples of this betrayal. Some insist that the 'Arab Spring' was the last nail in the coffin of Arab solidarity with Palestine. I beg to differ. The outcome of the ill-fated 'Arab Spring' was a massive let-down, if not betrayal, not just of Palestinians but of most Arabs. The Arab world has turned into a massive ground for dirty politics between old and new rivals. While Palestinians have been victimized, Syrians, Libyans, Yemenis and others are being victimized, as well. Most likely, Hajah Zainab is long dead now. But millions more like her still exist and they, too, long for a free Palestine, as they continue to seek their own freedom and salvation. -Dr Ramzy Baroud is an internationally-syndicated columnist, media consultant, author of several books and the founder of PalestineChronicle.com.
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| BOOK REVIEW | Obstacle to Peace - A Book Review Reviewed by Jim Miles (Obstacle to Peace - The US Role in the Israeli-Palestinian Conflict. Jeremy R. Hammond. Worldview Publications, Cross Village, Michigan. 2016.) It is obvious to most in the world that the U.S. and Israel are symbiotically linked to each other - each using the other for their own purposes, some of which are common, others that are not. In Obstacle to Peace Jeremy Hammond dissects current events and the relationships between the two countries demonstrating that the biggest obstacle to peace in Israel-Palestine is the U.S. The focus is narrowed down to the specific relationship between the U.S. and Israel and does not delve into U.S. ambitions for the greater Middle East (which would still centre, if not focus, on Israel). It is also much less a history than it is an examination of the methods by which the U.S. plays its role. In his preface, Hammond says, "I have tried to write the book so as not to require an extensive prior knowledge of the subject to be able to understand it...to be accessible to a broader audience...willing to commit the time to developing a well informed opinion." As a well informed reader I cannot say whether it would well and truly do this, but the language used and the actual structure of the book would make it accessible to a broad audience. It is a detailed work concentrating on the combination of actions and language concerning the U.S.' supporting role for Israel. The physical actions, the identifiable events of history, could be presented in a much shorter work for the time span covered. It is in the realm of language - agreements (written or otherwise), media representations, speeches, discourses, and the many elements of international law - affecting, describing, attributing, manipulating - where the bulk of Hammond's presentation concentrates. The latter element, international law, assumes a position front and centre in Hammond's arguments. Both the U.S. and Israel rationalize their actions by referring to international law but they do so essentially by attempting to "manage perceptions", create their own "narrative", utilize the Chomsky described vehicle of "manufactured consent" all the while operating with a set of "double standards". Hammond makes an intense and well structured 'deconstruction' of the misleading language, the obfuscation, the fog of jargon utilized by U.S. and Israeli politicians, pundits and media of all kinds. Without getting into the details of his arguments (I leave that for the reader to read about), several things stand out. One of the standouts is the U.S. media complicity/subordination, while ironically Ha'aretz of Israel frequently is much more critical - and accurately so - than the U.S. mainstream media. Another feature that works slowly into light is the quisling nature of Abbas' ruling power. Essentially he is helping Israel control the Palestinian people. This is recognized by both Israel and the U.S. (and by Abbas) as the threat to cut funding to the PA is viewed as more political fodder for the public but if carried through would be detrimental to Israel's occupation of Palestinian land. From the latter rises the idea that war is the answer, that peace is not in the interests of either the U.S. or Israel for geopolitical and economic and other domestic reasons. The largest element however is language - the language used for customary and coded international law. There are essentially two types of international law: customary law, informal, unwritten rules deriving from 'state practice' and objective obligations; and treaty law, contractual written agreements intent on creating binding rights and obligations. The UN Charter, the various Geneva Conventions, trade agreements, environmental agreements are all part of the latter treaty law. [1] Obviously there are different interpretations of both the customary and treaty laws, but there is sort of a law of laws, the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties, that says, "A treaty shall be interpreted in good faith in accordance with the ordinary meaning to be given to the terms of the treaty in their context..."[2] Thus, if the ordinary meaning is to be understood in context, then to support a position that would under the 'ordinary meaning' be against international law, it becomes necessary to change the context.[3] However the reality of the context can only be changed by managing its presentation. Changing the context is done through the methods described by Hammond throughout his presentation: alter the narrative, use double standards, manage perception, manufacture consent. It is in this area where Hammond does a superb thorough deconstruction of Israeli/U.S. attempts to change the context to fit their own denial of international law as it pertains to them. As an example, this is shown by their attempts to stop Abbas from seeking statehood recognition within the UN. That accession would change the manner in which the various parties interact, and change the global view of how to deal with the situation in Israel/Palestine. It also reaches farther, as exemplified by the great fear of Palestinian accession to the International Criminal Court (ICC), which asks the question, if what you (Israel-U.S.) are doing is so in compliance with international law, why is there this fear of Palestine having recourse to the ICC? One of my favorite neocons, John Bolton, "mindful of its [U.S.] complicity and the possibility of future prosecution for war crimes at the ICC....warned "to convoke the International Criminal Court is like putting a loaded pistol to Israel's head - or, in the future, to America's." (p. 407) Why, Mr. Bolton, why? The UNESCO and ICC cases, presented towards the end of the book, highlight Hammond's use of the four aspects of contextual methodology of the U.S.-Israeli dialogue concerning Palestine. A clear double standard and change of narrative exists concerning the determination of a state of Palestine as per entrance to UNESCO. Then Secretary of State Clinton cautioned against recognizing a state without "determining what the state will look like, what its borders are, how it will deal with myriad issues that states must address" - none of which issues had prevented the U.S. sixty-three years earlier from recognizing the state of Israel only minutes [italics in original] after the Zionist leadership unilaterally declared its existence without borders and mostly on land they had no rights to." (p. 369) In fact they had no rights to any of the land other than the 5.8 per cent they actually owned as the UN Partition Plan was rejected by the Palestinians and had no power of international law. Earlier in Hammond's presentation (p. 354) the New York Times argued that "vetoing a statehood resolution "would intensify Arab perceptions of American double standards," noting also "the president risks appearing hypocritical." A nice tidy way to identify double standards, manage perceptions, and manufacture consent for a narrative - in this case the idea being simply that it is not the fault of the U.S. but of Arab "perceptions." Obstacle to Peace is a lengthy and involved read, yet readily accessible. It can and should serve as a reference work, a compendium of information on the Israel-Palestine conflict. As for the initial structural reference, the chapters are clearly delineated and set out with clear subheadings. The bibliography/reference section is extensive. It also struck me that the words narrative, double standards, manufactured consent, manage perceptions are not listed in the very useful index - these contextual methodologies are so widespread throughout the book the marker would simply be passim. The conclusion is simple, well supported by the precise examination of language and context: "the single greatest obstacle to a peaceful resolution: the criminal policies of the government of the United States of America." - Jim Miles is a Canadian educator and a regular contributor/columnist of opinion pieces and book reviews for The Palestine Chronicle. Miles' work is also presented globally through other alternative websites and news publications. He contributed this article to PalestineChronicle.com. Notes: [1] Michael Byers, War Law - Understanding International Law and Armed Conflict. Douglas & McIntyre, Vancouver, 2005. P. 3-4. [2] ibid, p.5 [3] Some actions that may have become customary, such as pre-emptive war and the 'right to protect' syndrome have been abused by the U.S./NATO (Iraq, Libya, Syria, Kosovo/Serbia, Afghanistan) and now are not considered to be a customary rule (i.e. not accepted by the majority of the world) basically as they were used as an excuse to invade and change governments in other countries who did not accept U.S. global hegemony. |
| FEATURE | Zionism as Instrument of Capitalist Imperialism: What I learned in My Visit to Palestine By Romana Rubeohttp://www.palestinechronicle.com/zionism-instrument-capitalist-imperialism-learned-visit-palestine/
Sometimes, you decide to visit a particular place because that land is calling your name. Because you've heard so much about it; because it suddenly enters your daily life, in a powerful way; because in that land there are people you appreciate, friends who hold a piece of your own heart, or because you know this is the land in which some of the people you love were born. That's why, last August, I flew to Tel Aviv, destination Palestine, with an extemporary travel itinerary, many ideas flashing through my mind and no exact purpose. Yet, this is the first factor you should think about when you decide to visit those places, especially if you intend on travelling alone. The question can slightly vary, depending on the different points of view: "Why the hell did you choose Palestine?", my friends asked, since they would have preferred to see me relaxing under a Caribbean palm tree; the most religious people smiled hopefully: "Do you want to find God?", fearing the Holy Land could be the last resort for me; on the contrary, "What is the true aim of your journey?" was the favored formula among the airport security officers. The airport: the only place which really frightens you while you are packing and your head is full of the accounts of people who have been there and now feel obliged to give you disparate advise: "Do not allow them to stamp your passport!" "I traveled with the Israeli airlines and I was questioned for eight long hours before boarding" "Really? No Alitalia? Then, you have no guarantees!" "You must deny everything, EVERYTHING!" But what should I deny? That I am a simple activist; that I translate articles written by Palestinian authors and that I know exactly which side I am on? Anyway, I know what to say: I am lucky enough to stay at a dear friend's place, in West Jerusalem, the Israeli part of the city. The road is well-paved, for me. So well-paved that I actually feel a bit guilty, for all the children of that land, living in diaspora, in Europe, or all across the world. I know their faces, their stories, and I know they cannot enter Jerusalem, because they are considered a threat to the national security. At Fiumicino Airport, thanks to the delay of my flight (God bless low cost companies) and to my natural inclination to establish social relations with every breathing human being who happens to be next to me, I meet a lot of people. The first is Giacomo; he is in his seventies, he has a loud laugh and looks very kind. He is with his wife and he cannot accept the idea that I am travelling alone. I try to reassure him: "I'm staying with a dear friend of mine!" "I know some people there!". He wouldn't have it, he would not allow his daughter to travel alone, that's that! Giacomo is one of the many Italian Jews who chose to make Aliyah: at some point, he decided to settle down in the Land-of-Israel, that's how he calls it, in a redundant but admirable literary effort. He proudly tells me: "My children went to Israel with their kids, in Italy there were no jobs for them; we followed them. I think about Professor Della Pergola's statistics on Italian Jews who choose to emigrate, which I read some time ago, and I ask him the reason for such a choice. He explains that the economic crisis is more worrisome than the military service, for them. "And there is a lot of land, there, we feel at home!" A lot of land? The land; the hungered land. How can he say that? The struggled land, the occupied, stolen, plundered land. The cultivated land, the burned land; the land of a people crying and longing to return; the land of Pappé's books, of Susan Abulhawa's novels, that land, as if by magic, becomes for Giacomo a huge one, an inviting one; "If we don't go, it would be a waste!" Soon after, I meet a young guy from Tel Aviv; he had been travelling across Italy. He seems friendly, then he starts questioning me: "Do you know any Arabs? Why do you want to go to Israel? What do you think about the Israeli Palestinian conflict?" And then, he goes on with a series of racist comments about Arabs: they will try to make a fool of you, don't trust them, we give them many opportunities and they throw rockets." I do not reply, I only hope the random choice of seats will be merciful, so he won't be sitting next to me on the plane. At the airport, there is an Israeli driver waiting for me; it is already dark and while he drives to Jerusalem he points out the wall, speaks about the weather and shows his enthusiasm for Waze (it is kind of an obsession, actually, I don't know how the hell they could drive before, here). His face is friendly and when he speaks about the wall, he looks very worried, even ashamed. The morning after, the town literally bursts with lights, colors, sounds, and fragrances. Sometimes, you have to bow to certain clichés: it is absolutely true, Jerusalem is a unique town, which gets inside you, reaching the most hidden fiber of your body and mind, shaking your sight and senses. Once you visit it, you are perfectly aware that you won't be the same person anymore. You can enter the old walls feeling many different things: but soon, the beauty and the "maraviglia" disclose the fragile balance of divisions. There are invisible boundaries separating worlds, stories, cultures, people; and the traveler can hardly comprehend those unbridgeable gaps. On my first day, I could not even distinguish the different neighborhoods; then, gradually, as getting lost in that haze became more and more pleasant, the neat lines were more and clearer for me. I entered many shops, I talked to many people, I had the most amazing coffees in the world and ate tons of knafeh, because the old confectioner grew fond of that "Italian girl" who always walked that street, alone, and never refused food. I met taxi drivers, shop-owners, extemporary tour guides, restaurant owners. And in their words, I say it with an aching heart, I often heard the sound of surrender. They live in a State, which makes systematic use of Apartheid methods, suppressing all the rights of a part of the citizens living there, but also denying their history and identity, and many of them are forced to abandon their will to resist. Sure, I had read numbers, and percentages, and surveys, but now, those statisticsbecome true, realistic. They are hidden behind the voice of a shop owner, in the suk. His merchandise is full of contrasting symbols and I ask him: "Wow, don't you think there is a little bit of ideological confusion here?" He looks at me and harshly says: "I don't care about politics, I have five kids". "Sure I am strong, I was part of the Resistance movement", my grandfather used to say. Resistance is stuff for strong people. And while I am sitting on the sofa of my comfortable Western house I wonder: what would I do, if I lived in a town in which my fellow citizens could be my enemies? In which the simple fact that I was born on the "wrong" side deprives me of so many rights? In which an occupying State wants to get rid of people like me, so it tries to buy my dignity, to erase my history, even building upon the monuments and the symbolic places bearing witness of it? And in this moment, when this question comes to my mind, I think about my friends in Palestine, struggling everyday, or the Palestinians living in diaspora, who never stop thinking of their beloved country and they become even more heroic to me; I identify in them, in the men and women who have, in this period, been protecting al Aqsa. Al Haram Al Qudsi al Sharif is a must-see for whoever visits Jerusalem, with the wonderful Dome of the Rock and Al-Aqsa Mosque, the third holiest site in Islam. I arrived early in the morning in front of the covered walkway from the Western Wall plaza and I lined up to pass the security check. There were 15 or 20 settlers, they gather there everyday and they try to enter, saying that they want to pray, but it is clear they only want to provoke. On that particular day, soldiers did not allow them to enter, but when it happens, as we've seen during the past days, things can deteriorate very quickly. Now, for me, it seems impossible to think that that place which looks suspended in time, a place characterized by silence, in the pale morning light, with prayer mats on the ground, worshippers praying under the sun, old men wearing kuffiahs chatting on the stairs, children playing and laughing with a cat lying next to them, can sometimes turn into a hell. Along with the Mount of Olives, that I had climbed at sunset, the day before, this is the place in which I felt the greatest sense of spirituality. In both cases, I did not find displayed faith, but I felt I was closer to God than ever before. While I am writing, I see terrible pictures and videos. It is not the first time, obviously, but nowadays they are part of the Israeli crusade to demonise the "dangerous" stone throwers and draw attention on the security issue. It is not by chance; on the contrary, it is part of a precise plan. The plan to rebuild the temple, which once was just a crazy idea supported by radical groups, is now becoming a "moral duty for Jews", part of their political agenda. It is useless to say that the consequences could be devastating. And devastating, too, was the impact Hebron had on me. Hebron is the second largest city in the Palestinian territories and I got there with a special guide, on a taxi with a yellow plate (issued to Palestinians, while Israeli cars have green plates). I did not imagine it was so large, my idea was completely wrong, maybe because of some misleading pictures I had seen. In Hebron, there is a University, several trade points, factories and laboratories on the side of the hills. The taxi driver leaves us in front of a very congested roundabout. A few meters from the street we must walk through to reach the Ibrahim Mosque/the Cave of the Patriarchs, which is considered a holy place from both Muslims and Jews (on the left side, there is a mosque, on the right side, there is a synagogue). But that road is not a normal one. It is the sadly famous Shuhada Street, which once was the heart of the city and now is completely deserted: I heard my steps resounding while I was trying to realize what was around me, to gather my thoughts and all the confused emotions I was feeling. The only people we met were Israeli armed soldiers, standing at the check points. Since 1994, after the Ibrahimi Mosque massacre carried out by the far-right Israeli extremist Baruch Goldstein, Palestinians cannot drive on this road; since 2000, they cannot even walk here. Sure, everything is justified by the "Goddess Security", which is invoked over and over again, to justify the worst actions one can imagine. Are there settlements and do Israelis think they could be in danger? Well, it is clear that Palestinian citizens must be kicked out. There are just a few Arabs left: they are literally walled up, their doors are welded shut and there are fences on their balconies. If they want to go out, they must climb onto their roofs, in the back. The truth is Hebron is the plastic representation of apartheid, racism and discrimination. I it is so clear it almost seems stylized. The territory is split into two: H1, the Palestinian side, and H2, the Israeli one. This does not seem to disturb the international community, contrary to what happened in the past for other more famous "divisions", but the point is the same: the Palestinians who are "stuck" in Hebron 2 are true prisoners. Going out is like crossing the doors of hell. And those who live in Hebron 1 are not allowed to reach people on the other side. Palestinians living in H2 lost their right to free movement, they cannot act, they cannot live. The others left this road, their road, in order to survive. After visiting the Mosque and the Synagogue, we enter the suk, so different from the others I had seen. There is no noise at all, no voices, just a few clients around. Only the fragrances are the same: spices and coffee and fruit. I look up at the sky only to find that there is no sky at all: I just see a metallic net. I thought I was in a nightmare, or watching one of those terrible black and white films, as I struggled to follow the images but I failed to understand. The net is needed because the settlers always throw stones, objects and garbage. I think back to the writing at the town entrance. It says: "Hebron, a community of Torah, charity and kindness". A bitter smile appears on the corners of my mouth. It is too much: touching injustice with your own hands leaves you with an annoying feeling of impotence, anger and pain. There is a bitter taste in my mouth: the amazing coffee Ahmed offered me in a shop and the exceptionalshawarma I ate for lunch are not enough to make it disappear. I came back from Palestine, a while ago. And it is only now that I realize how deeply this journey touched me. Now, as I try to put on paper all my feelings; now, that the things I saw, the words I heard, the stories I breathed are no longer shrouded in the inebriating smell of oriental spices; now, that they are just a memory, mixed with a strong desire to go there again, just to understand things better, to grasp the meanings that escaped me. One thing is for sure: today, reading the news from my couch is completely different. The Old City now under siege, a frightened 18 years old girl cruelly killed at a checkpoint in Shuada Street aren't just a rational experience anymore. I am overcome by rage, a violent rage, over the laceration of that wonderful, welcoming land, by a ferocious occupation. And many thoughts come to my mind: first of all, Palestinian people look three-dimensional now. Not only are they a people struggling for freedom, but also the sum of tired, exhausted individuals who want to emigrate, who simply want to survive. Surrendering can take on many faces and beyond the granitic and romantic vision you may have from outside, many Palestinians have surrendered: some in the ways I described before; others have stopped believing in politics (then, in mundane salvation) and now only trust in heavenly salvation. Today, I am even more shocked in front of the indifference towards the Palestinian fate: inside the Arab world, in Europe, and among the international actors who always talk grandly about civil and human rights and then, at most, declare their impartiality when it comes to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. In my opinion, it is no coincidence that this situation, in the Western world, coincides with the twilight of the European political left-wing movement, seen as the organized field of subaltern classes. When left-wing parties are not able to impose real critical thinking about the world and history, they are inevitably blind. That's why the opposition to the Israeli occupation becomes a humanitarian petitio principii, which only arises during emergency situations with a considerable media impact (that's to say, during the Israeli military operations). I think Zionism should be seen as an instrument of capitalist imperialism in the Middle East, as an "outpost" for the Western powers, anxious to control the whole region, which finds in the State of Israel the fulfillment of its own historic reason. And I am completely astonished when I read the mainstream media, which share the Israeli official version without even confirming the authenticity, as in the case of Hadil Hashlamoun's killing; they also contribute to the spread a terrible Islamophobic feelings. The terrorized girl, with her school bag, wore a niqab and turning her into a terrorist was such a simple operation I could hardly hold back my tears. The feeling of impotence, anger and pain is amplified now, like that day in Hebron. I feel so tiny and insignificant, I miss the "senso del vero" of a famous Francesco Guccini's song, "truthfulness", the true essence of human life, that perhaps I found there, on the Mount of Olives, or walking around Al Haram al Qudsi in the pale morning light. - Romana Rubeo is a freelance translator based in Italy. She holds a Master's degree in Foreign Languages and Literature and she is specialized in Audiovisual and Journalism Translation. An avid reader, her interests include music, politics, and geopolitics. She contributed this article to PalestineChronicle.com.
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The Palestine Chronicle is an independent online newspaper that provides daily news, commentary, features, book reviews, photos, art, etc, on a variety of subjects. However, it's largely focused on Palestine, Israel, and the Middle East region. The Palestine Chronicle is a non-profit 501(c)3 organization. To contact the editor, submit an article or any other material, please write to: editor@palestinechronicle.com. For other inquiries write to: info@palestinechronicle.com. |
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