[Digital Poetics 4.12] Excerpts from “Palestinian Literature of Resistance Under Occupation, 1948-1968” by Ghassan Kanafani (trans. Hadeel Jamal)

Translator’s Note: Published in 1968, Ghassan Kanafani’s book on Palestinian resistance literature explores the literary production of Palestinians within Historic Palestine, living under Israeli military rule since the Nakba of 1948. The book opens by exploring the role of the Palestinian Arab artist in the context of anti-colonial struggle, and then proceeds to analyse Palestinian resistance literature in its three dimensions: its local social dimension, its Arab dimension, and its global dimension. 

This translation takes two separate excerpts from different parts of the book. The first excerpt is of Kanafani’s analysis of the Palestinian artist’s role in resistance. The second excerpt is his exploration of the global dimension of international solidarity in Palestinian resistance literature

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pp. 39-44

Arab writers and intellectuals in Occupied Palestine have displayed a sustained, remarkable determination to confront the ongoing dispossession of the last twenty years. However, did the circumstances manage to shake or erode Arabs’ confidence in the roots of their culture and its horizons? Did the prevailing conditions prevent the dawning of the literature of resistance which was aspiring to shine like an optimistic sun in broader Arab cultural life?

The Arabs of Occupied Palestine recognised from the outset the danger of the battle being fought by them under the whips of Israeli military rule. From the beginning, their awareness of the schemes drawn up against them was expressed through a brief but profound saying capturing the reality of the situation: “All people in the world stand on their feet except the military ruler for he stands on his lackeys!”[1] This expression did not only convey the political challenge facing the Arabs of Occupied Palestine, but it also conveyed an imminent cultural challenge. Their recognition of the military rule’s political reliance on some Palestinian ‘lackeys’ to enable ‘infiltration from the inside’ and facilitate ‘striking from the outside’ led to the crystallisation of resistance literature, the cultural role of which was reinforcing ‘steadfastness within the internal front’ to ease ‘striking against the outside’. 

Arab resistance writers inside Israel recognised the political and cultural implications of this reality, “for if we do not vote for the ruling party then we are not faithful to the state, and if we write a poem or a story or an article expressing our bitter reality then, again, we are not faithful to the state.”[2] This context led to a development in the modes of expression as they fundamentally adapted according to the demands of the cultural ‘battlefront’.  The poet, for example, resorted to

Chanting his pleadings poetically through symbolism, as a poem offers a wide scope for symbolic writing through which the poet may express what nationalistic sentiments strike him without explicitly divulging them. For instance, poets frequently address their loved ones while actually meaning their homeland. If the poet were to write in his poem ‘Beware O oppressor’ – seemingly referring to a lover tormenting him – then the authorities will not be able to discern his intention to warrant pursuing legal measures against him. Meanwhile, the tactful reader recognises the poet’s intention and understands his real sentiments.[3]

However, this rush to pave the way for a literature of resistance did not come about by sheer coincidence. Although the poem form was offered by chance more room for artistic progress within the realm of resistance literature than the short story or novel form, the truth is that the overall progress of resistance literature was in itself a product of a deep consciousness of the writer’s and intellectual’s role in the face of such struggles. 

The daily confrontations with the Israeli occupation led to the shortening of the genesis period of art in the occupied land, a period which the broader modern Arab literary movement had spent in a long debate surrounding the extent to which art can be politically committed and whether committed art is really a form of creative art. In Occupied Palestine, however, the pressure of Israeli antagonism towards Arab culture prompted a quick conclusion to that debate. In other words, the question of committed literature was not open for debate amongst the vast majority of Palestinian literary figures in Occupied Palestine. Such debates, in the face of dangerous daily confrontations, were a luxury rejected by all. 

According to Mansour Kardosh, one of the most prominent national figures in the occupied land,

Art and culture are two weapons that, were they to pursue a path of purpose, can advance the convictions of an entire nation. Meanwhile, art and culture in abstraction are, in my opinion, notions from the times of feudalism and symptoms of extravagance and superficial luxury. I thereby see that the national, social, and historical duty of whoever holds a pen or brush is to work in a purposeful manner oriented towards delivering a noble message.[4]

Arab intellectuals in Occupied Palestine are cognisant that “there are factors limiting the reach of local and external cultural production to the general population, such as the hurdles to publishing and the pushback against committed cultural production”.[5] They are therefore also aware that “the Arab society in Israel imitates the wider Arab society in its actions and heeds its calls much more than it responds to the neighbouring Jewish society.”[6] Naturally, this led to the relative reliance of the Palestinians inside Occupied Palestine on Arab radio broadcasting services as they “dissipate the loneliness of the Arab [in Israel] and alleviate the brunt of the isolation imposed on him”[7] as they function as “a channel of communication between us [Palestinian Arabs  in Israel] and the literary and cultural production of the Arab world that has been withheld from us.”[8] As such, the “Arab radio and television [offered us] great services”[9] to an extent that it seems they have strongly influenced much of the artistic production in the occupied land.

This reality appears to have greatly infuriated the Israelis, as the Israeli Sammy Jacob, for example, said, “I am not exaggerating when I say that the fates of a sizable portion of the Arabs [in Israel] have been determined by the the influence of these broadcasts on their emotions and consciousness. This calls for drawing up a comprehensive plan to provide the children of the upcoming generation the correct guidance to be immune to the influence of harmful tendencies.”[11]

Embracing the influence of the Arab broadcasting services, regardless of how insignificant and small it may seem to be at a first glance, within a context of a pre-existing awareness about the duties of the Arab intellectual in the occupied land, spurred a committed literary movement that has ultimately become one of the clearest examples of courageous resistance literature in modern history. 

We shall see shortly how all this gave rise to two related sides of Palestinian resistance literature that both remained together the marking and lasting features of this literature: its local Palestinian steadfast dimension and its broader Arab dimension. This literature consistently cheered for the Arab cause, considering itself – despite all the prevailing conditions of repression, siege, and isolation – an undivided part of it.

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pp. 86-93

This directly leads us to continue explicating the dimensions that resistance literature is committed to. We have highlighted conscious commitment as the framework for these dimensions, and have explicated the literary commitment to the social dimension of resistance. Ahead of us now are the global dimension and the Arab dimension. 

As mentioned earlier, dissecting the political outlook of these literary works into such distinct and specific dimensions is for the purpose of simplifying the exposition of resistance literature. Evidently, the given examples illustrate the impossibility of isolating these individual dimensions from the totality of the political outlook. Universally, poetry of resistance is consciously committed to the global revolution as this revolution is, ultimately, the context that the local revolutionary movement grows within, influences, and is influenced by.

The resistance literature we have in our hands draws our attention to the remarkable quantity and quality of productions chanting for the revolutions of the world and their common causes for freedom. This poem by Mahmoud Darwish titled “Cuban Anthems” expresses the essence of this commitment and its significance:

I touched neither the sugar cane
Nor the green land
I did not ride a fisherman’s boat in the Caribbean 
I did not splash a drop of water
I did not stay at a hotel for tourists and strangers
I did not get drunk in Havana on the sweat of the poor
I did not dip my pen in the wound of the wretched and miserable
I did not read Cuban poetry
But I have of Cuba things and more
For the words of revolution are light
Read in all languages
And the eyes of the revolution are a sun
That rains in all weddings
And the anthem of the revolution is a melody 
Known by all bells 
And the flag in Cuba
Is held by the revolutionary in the Aurès
And the roots of revolution, no matter how many branches they grow
They sprout from the same barricade
And the blue, red, and green flame
Sparks from the same anger
So keep warm…
And kindle another fire
O you people who feel cold.

When we said that the different dimensions of a resistance literary work coalesce strongly around one central axis, which is the axis of the writer’s own resistance, we were actually summarising this poem in one sentence. 

Mahmoud Darwish is not the only one, however, who commits, in form and substance, to this vital global dimension of resistance literature, for there are numerous poems by Fouzi El-Asmar of the same meaning, the most known of which is “I Am a Slave”, dedicated to the people of Africa. Samih Al Qasim too has multiple poems about Patrice Lumumba, Africa, and the Black people of America, as well as a poetry collection Pillars within which is a poem titled “Postcards to the Fields of Battle”, and this poem is a series of short poems dedicated to Fidel Castro, the Black singer Paul Robeson, Christophe Gbenye, and the revolutionaries of the Viet Cong. 

In the poem “To The Revolutionaries of Viet Cong” he says,

I hear them rushing in my blood
I hear them in the valley, in the forest,
on the mountaintop.
I hear the cries of free souls
And the laughs of the machine guns 
I hear the raids
of the fascist bastards.
And I shout and I shout,
without a sound or breath:
Death upon the Gods of death.

Notice now this fascinating transition:

I feel my palm shrinking
And I disappear for a moment,
I feel that I am anticipating
Wolves of invasion on the war front.
I pour fire on the ghosts… 
And I weep:

Then, he returns in another transitional jump:

Who gulps whiskey in the bars of New York?
Who meets a beautiful lady in a coffee shop?
Who chants a song in the street?
Who ploughs in America? Who sows? 
Who ploughs in Vietnam and sows?
Who remains in the factory,
Who remains?
O foolish Gods of death in America
O foolish Gods of death!

In a similar vein, there is the poem “The Country of Men Revolting Against the Stalling of Time” by Rashid Hussein about Asia, and another poem “The Chant of a Black Man” by Ibrahim Moayed which is a poem signifying the rise of a promising poet, except that we unfortunately have not heard of any new works by him. In addition, we can also see a large number of poems by Mahmoud Dassouqi and poems of extreme importance by Hanna Abu Hanna about Cuba and the rising Africa. 

The commitment to the global dimension of the battle was always a key quality of the poetry of resistance. However, this commitment did not lead to a dilution of the commitment to engage in the fight directly at the local level. Rather, it enriched it and imbued it with further depth and motivation, contrary to the experiences of a number of Arab countries in the recent past. 

In this context, we must commend Mahmoud Darwish. The majority of his first poetry collection, “Birds Without Wings”, chants for the revolutions of Africa and the world with a faithfulness, depth, and spontaneity that inspire awe. He also offers, in my view, the finest Arabic elegy for the revolutionary Spanish poet Lorca. However, along with all of that, Mahmoud Darwish has a conscientious view of the totality of the dimensions in his poem “On Wishes” when he says,

Do not say to me:
I wish I were a bread seller in Algeria
So I may sing with a revolutionary. 
Do not say to me:
I wish I were a shepherd in Yemen
So I may sing for the uprisings of history.
Do not say to me:
I wish I were a worker in a Havana café
So I may sing for the victories of the sorrowful.
Do not say to me:
I wish I worked in Aswan as a little porter
So I may sing for the rocks.
My friend!
Our land is not sterile
Every land will have its rebirth
Every dawn will encounter a rebel!

The consciousness of commitment to the global revolutionary movement achieves fulfillment by feeding the consciousness of commitment to the local revolution, and not by embracing a type of romanticism that prides itself on disavowing the local in favour of the global. This awareness that is expressed by Arab resistance literature with such straightforward clarity and decisiveness positions the humanist dimension of resistance right where it should be [i.e. at the local front], which provides incentive and responsibility at the same time. 

Samih Al-Qasim lays out this principle as follows:

For there, in the depths of the Africa of enslaved men and women
Is a dawn passing its palm over weeping foreheads
Imbuing them with light, blood, and life.
And there, in the depths of the America of crime, rupture, and loss,
Is a drum beating without stop
For a city bought and a Black man sold.
And there, in the near horizon, there in the distant horizon 
The Earth does not complete its orbit without a new victory,
So carry your flag and proceed on this path
… forever on this path.
Riverbeds honourably perish in sacrifice for the deep river. 

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Endnotes:

[1] Rashid Hussein. Al-Fajr, Issue No. 2, January-February 1961.
[2] Fouzi El-Asmar. This World, Issue No. 36, March 1967.
[3] Ibid.
[4] Mansour Kardosh.
[5] Ibid.
[6] Mohammed Masawra.
[7] Salman Shehadeh.
[8] Ahmad Dassouqi.
[9] Fouzi El-Asmar.
[10] Al-Fajr, Issue No. 3, May 1967. This was a heated discussion between Fathi Forani and Jamal Qa’war as the latter accused the former that many of the phrases he uses in his stories “are taken from Arab broadcasts”.
[11]  This World, Issue No. 39, June 1967.

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Ghassan Kanafani was a Palestinian journalist, author, political thinker, and revolutionary who was assassinated in Lebanon in 1972 by the Israeli Mossad. 

Hadeel Jamal is a Palestinian organiser, educator, and translator. 

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