What Exile is
Exile is strangely compelling to think about but terrible to experience. It is the unhealable rift forced between a human being and their native place, between the self and its true home: its essential sadness can never be surmounted.
The achievements of exile are permanently undermined by the loss of something left behind forever.
Mahmoud Darwish, whose considerable work amounts to an epic effort to transform the lyrics of loss into the indefinitely postponed drama of return, depicts his sense of homelessness in the form of a list of unfinished and incomplete things:
But I am the exile.
Seal me with your eyes.
Take me wherever you are—
Take me whatever you are.
Restore to me the color of face
And the warmth of body
The light of heart and eye,
The salt of bread and rhythm,
The taste of earth … the Motherland.
Shield me with your eyes.
Take me as a relic from the mansion of sorrow.
Take me as a verse from my tragedy;
Take me as a toy, a brick from the house
So that our children will remember to return.
Abed Al Rahim Mohammad Amer was born in Suhmata, Palestine in 1937. He was uprooted from his village in October 1948 when Israeli warplanes bombarded the village.
My grandfather, Abed Al Rahim, and his family remained at home on the day of the exodus, unwilling to leave. At the spur of a moment, a man from our area- a resistance fighter of his time- appeared and stated that the family needed to gather and leave so that they could arrive to Al Rahba, a safer area at the border, before dusk.
My grandfather told the man that his father was confident in his ability to absorb pain. He was attached to his roots so he would not be leaving. However, as the bombardment became more intense, his father, at the behest of his loved ones, was persuaded to flee, prioritizing his concerns for his children’s safety and well-being.
People took cover under the age-old rich olive trees the night before their official banishment, despite the bitter cold. Then they began their heart wrenching march towards Lebanon the next morning. My grandfather spoke of scenes that that they had encountered as they marched. Some including villagers being expelled by force and terrorized all throughout Palestine. Some were flooded out of their sacred homeland on foot, while others rode donkeys. Many of them were injured and beaten by the occupiers as they left with heavy hearts.
My grandfather arrived in Lebanon with his family and first ended up in Al Bas Camp in Sour for two short days. They then relocated to Baalbek, where they lived for almost 9 years. In 1957, he moved to Al Zaater Camp in Beirut in hopes of seeking better opportunities until war ravaged the camp.
“I used to stand on top of the hill and marvel at the beauty of the greenery, huge trees, and clear sky in my dearest Palestine. I was a frequent visitor to the fascinating antique monuments that carried both deep representation and liberating joy. Both Muslims and Christians coexisted peacefully there, unified. I was a bright student at the institution I was enrolled in. Our Arabic teacher used to assemble us in a circle under the olive tree to teach us Quran. Many cities and villages bore my imprints because I was the best companion to my father on his countrywide excursions that brought us immense happiness.”
Abed Al Rahim Mohammad Amer
Being Exiled and Offended in the Exile
As previously stated, Abed Al Rahim relocated to Al Zaatar camp in 1957.
He expanded his work opportunities and family members there.
In 1976, while he was molding his nine children and supporting their mental, physical, and emotional health, a horrendous bloodbath between Muslim and Christian sides erupted.
The siege began when the Christian militias launched a campaign to expel Palestinians from Northern Beirut. The Palestinians were viewed as a threat to their political and economic interests.
These militias, who acted more like death squads, were aligned with the west and the Zionist regime. They were instigated to create a civil war in order to stamp out Palestinian movements and pro-independence Lebanese parties.
Militias such as the Lebanese Forces (LF) would kill other Christians too who supported a Lebanon that was independent from the west and firm against Zionist occupation of Palestine, Lebanon, and Syria. Sectarianism was their cover to commit massacres against Palestinians and Lebanese, but they were proxies of their western and Zionist allies.
The siege turned into brutal assault in June 1976 when Syrian army intervened in the war on the side of LF. The camp was subjected to constant shelling, sniping, and starvation. Many refugees died of wounds, diseases, or malnutrition.
The fall of Tal Al Zaatar marked a turning point in my grandfather’s life. He lost his building, car, work, and many of his family members and those of his wife.
He finally managed to escape and relocate in Baalbek.
Racism Perpetuates
Assault, violence, and cruelty were passed down from my parents’ generation to ours.
My father is an architect with a bachelor’s degree. I recall one story about my father trying to work for a company in Dubai but being told flatly that he couldn’t because of his ethnic background.
Another vivid recollection is being interviewed by a Saudi school administrator a year ago. I met the school’s qualifications as a skilled teacher with 5 years of experience and a Teaching Diploma from BAU. Knowing that I am Palestinian, I was told flatly that the Ministry of Education does not hire Palestinians. This demonstrates a lack of Solidarity.
This racism cannot be justified by economic concerns, as the horrors Palestinians had to go through was not our fault, and a result of another racism from the Zionist terrorist groups. It is not fair to punish us economically when we cannot go back to our homeland.
Most of Lebanon’s economic woes are due to the intervention of the American ambassador in creating an unsustainable, import-dependent economy which has very little domestic production in order to replenish Lebanon’s critically low foreign currency reserves. The US Embassy also blocked Lebanon’s ability to drill oil for years until the resistance wisely pressured the Zionist enemy until Lebanon’s maritime borders were honored and companies contracted with the state to explore for oil and gas. If the concerns of non-Lebanese laborers’ effects on the economy are an issue, first focus on expanding the economy and increasing the size of the pie.
Many of the politicians who support economic discrimination against Palestinians – who cannot return home and must earn for their families while in exile in Lebanon – support the very policies of the US Embassy that have kept the pie of Lebanon’s economy very, very small and weak, leading to today’s economic crisis. Palestinians are the last people who should pay the price for the wrong decisions of the rulers and elite bankers who have obeyed every command of the US Embassy to destroy our economy. To punish us instead of growing the economy for all peoples cannot be explained by anything other than racism and lack of empathy for our plight.
Solidarity: Alleviatory Exile and Estrangement
And all of this, the question remains: where is my space or place of belonging as a Palestinian? I am exiled in academia. I am exiled historically and narratively. I am exiled politically, socially, and geographically. I am exiled among other racialised and oppressed groups. There is no space for me, literally and metaphysically. It is the constant experience of belonging everywhere and nowhere. For Palestinians, the personal is political.
One way to show solidarity with our cause is to actively attempt to eradicate our personal ghurba (estrangement). People can do this by standing behind us or beside us, but not in front of us.
Solidarity is listening to our story and providing a genuine space for our narrative. Solidarity is leveling the playing field for us. Solidarity is the societal permission to belong as a Palestinian and not try to “fit in” through other identifiers or categories.
Solidarity is speaking the language of compensation and restitution and supporting Palestinians everywhere to live in their origins in the historic land of Palestine, with their Indigenous rights fully respected. Most importantly, solidarity is actively alleviating exile and estrangement and making a place for our placelessness.
