Light in Gaza is a collection of works created and compiled by Gazans and their allies in the occupied territory and abroad. As such, it is dense with history and emotion while reading quickly. This was the first book on Palestine I read in print format; my copy is stained with pen ink and highlighters (and coffee) from the various insights and heart pulls within its pages. Through its twelve essays, three poems, and numerous photographs, this collection’s creators provide myriad insights upon which to reflect.
On a slice of land that is now one of the world’s most densely populated, Gaza’s people endure various manifestations of occupation. Discussions of Palestine and its colonization are rooted in the theme of land: Who belongs to the land versus who it belongs to, who has the right to build and farm on it, who calls it home. In the face of forced migration and the creation of refugees, permanence holds power. Agriculture is key in proving historical permanence (Palestine was never “a land without a people”) and asserting its future. Writer Asmaa Abu Mezied recalls her grandmother’s words: “Oh, my granddaughter, a lap covered in the soil is better than one covered with gold” (p. 60). Working the earth and sewing it with plant life is deeply Palestinian. Following the Nakba and annexation of Gaza, however, Israel seized and commodified the land. They destroyed local crops, plants, and wildlife to replace them “with fast-growing European crops like pine trees” to bolster Israeli trade profits (Abu Mezied, p. 68). This only exacerbated the monetary imbalance between the occupied and occupier. As fiscal power is crucial for a people’s self-determination, with both agricultural and monetary capacity stolen, modern Palestinians have become culturally and emotionally distanced from their land (Abu Mezied, pp. 73-74). As most colonial forces are deviously thorough, Israel’s attempts to exert control extend beyond land and trade economics into the intellectual realm.
Stories are one of Gaza’s last bastions against the occupation. From Israeli book bans to Islamic film and music bans, repression of voices comes from multiple angles (Mosab Abu Toha, p. 163). It is a cruel irony that books like this one often never find their way in print into the occupied territory. Using phone cameras, irregular Internet connection, and in one case, “an assortment of used boxes and plastic buckets [as] shelves,” Gazans document their journeys and curate libraries of their own (Abu Mezied, p. 30; Abu Toha, p. 175). While such hopeful narratives may seem enchanting, a non-Palestinian must be wary of over-mystifying the struggle of the land and its people. Palestinian poet and writer Mahmoud Darwish “warns of glorifying Gaza to the extent of betrayal: ‘We do injustice to Gaza when we turn it into a myth, because we will hate it when we discover that it is no more than a small poor city that resists…’“ (Shahd Abusalama,p. 47). It is a nation of people who love and hold grudges and are imperfect in the chaos of war and of being human. Rather than mythologize Gaza, we must humanize it and recognize its dualities. As discussed above, permanence is a form of resistance, but the desire for travel still exists. Israeli travel restrictions and border crossings prevent Gazans from accessing essential medical care, attending family celebrations and funerals, and from the simple joys of recreation and self-development. To this point of family, Salem Al Qudwa explains how “In local Arabic, ‘Enta men dar/beit meen?’ (Which family/home are you from?) is the first question someone asks when you meet them. The Arabic words dar and beit both mean ‘house’…” thus highlighting family as the bedrock of Palestinian culture (p. 89). But as Yousef M. Aljamal proclaims, “That Palestinians still exist and function as a collective testifies to Israel’s failure” to dismantle Palestinian values at their base (p. 206). Truly, occupation is economic, environmental, geographic, and (agri)cultural. Gaza is under near total siege from all directions. As such, there are many angles from which to resist.
Throughout the book, contributing writers make calls to action from the international community while stressing the antagonistic role of apathy. Says Basman Aldiwari in the book’s final essay, “What Palestinians need is for everyone to assume their responsibility. The international community and human rights organizations should exert real pressure, stop criticizing Palestinian resistance, and endorse the right of defense against Israel’s offensive and destructive use of force. Stop equating the occupied with the occupier. Put pressure on Israel to assume its responsibility and solve the Palestinian Nakba that it created.” And despite the power of stories and on-the-ground reporting, sharing information can only go so far. In her essay on AI’s use for both oppressive and liberatory tactics, Nour Naim asserts, “It is not enough to let the world know the truth — the world already knows the truth. We need to make the world take action, and we need to empower Palestinians and develop their ability to challenge the Israeli occupation in effective ways” (pp. 149-150). As with many peaceful solutions, Gaza’s is multifaceted yet simple. The way forward must be only through a ceasefire and an end to the Israeli occupation, allowing Palestinians to practice their right of return.
Graphic: Genocide, Gun violence, Violence, and War
Moderate: Gore, Misogyny, Racial slurs, Racism, Medical content, Medical trauma, and Injury/Injury detail
Minor: Homophobia and Islamophobia