A prominent philosopher and
political activist — once the PLO’s man in Jerusalem — explains how
he has seen his people’s quest for nationhood confronted by the reality
of life under occupation
I In the 1950s, a lot of people thought that we should be part of a pan-Arabist
world. The slogans referred to a “united Arab nation”. They felt good
that the Ottoman empire had been dismantled, but bad that the Arab world
which had got rid of that Ottoman yoke had become cut up. So the natural
reaction was that we should all become one again, that we should re-unite.
There was no extreme sense of being unique in Palestine, or Egypt, or
Jordan, or Iraq, or Syria.
My father came back to East Jerusalem in 1951 when I was two years old. He
had left the job he had in Cairo as the person in charge of the
Palestinian government-in-exile. He decided that there was no use for it,
and was very quickly wooed by the Jordanian government (he became a
minister). Everybody grew up feeling mostly Jordanian. There was still
tension between pan-Arabism and being Palestinian or Jordanian. There were
also frictions during those years between the Jordanian government and the
Palestinian nationalist elements.
I grew up as Jordanian, but we hardly ever went to Jordan itself. For us,
Jerusalem was the centre of life. Before 1967, I always assumed that
Jerusalem was the capital. We all looked down on Amman as a kind of
backwater.
One expected that sooner or later Palestine was going to be regained, and
then we would assume our natural role as Palestinians in Palestine. Nobody
at the time thought it possible that you could have a state on one part of
Palestine.
Maybe after 1967; that was the first time you could hear voices saying,
“Now let’s go for a two-state solution”. My father was not an open
supporter of that. But he would have supported it if the PLO had gone in
that direction.
In the 1980s, I saw that there was a kind of a split personality among
Palestinians. They were becoming more immersed in the Israeli system. I
use the image of an Egged bus. Right after 1967, it looked like a monster
coming from outer space — this terrifying thing with Hebrew writing,
driving fast, zooming through the streets of East Jerusalem. Then slowly
there would be bus stops, and in time you would find Arabs getting into
the bus because by then they had started getting jobs. Several years
later, you would see that the driver was an Arab. So imagine the
transformation from being somebody from totally outside that foreign
system to stepping inside.
But while that was happening, very strangely, and perhaps in reaction, the
Palestinians were developing at the intellectual, psychological and
spiritual levels a sense of being distinct. So the more they became
immersed, the more distinct they came to feel themselves as a nation.
I said before the first intifada broke out that this was unnatural, like a
rope being pulled very tightly that was going to snap. One of two things
would happen. The Palestinians would either call for total separation and
an independent state, or for total annexation into Israel.
Unfortunately, in the last few years, people in the region have become far
more chauvinist, far more extremist. There was a time just after Oslo when
it looked like you could have acceptable, liberal, nationalist ideologies
co-existing side by side. And this might come again. But if we are stuck
like we seem to be at the moment, it’s becoming crazy, it’s
fragmenting, it’s becoming very ugly.
I do not feel at all enthusiastic about wanting a Palestinian state. There
was a time 15-20 years ago when I looked upon the Palestinian state and
the nationalist ideologies as a liberating phenomenon. Today I am not sure
it is.
I have no problems if Egypt takes over Gaza, or if Jordan and the West
Bank merge. There is nothing sacrosanct about any particular political
solution. The only thing that is sacrosanct is whether the solution will
provide me with the kind of life that is worth living as an individual: a
life of dignity, freedom and equality. If they make us part of the United
Kingdom, or Switzerland, or the United States, if they give United Nations
passports in Jerusalem — fine.
I feel maybe now that we allowed ourselves to an excessive degree to be
prisoners of place, of space — Palestinians, Muslims, Nusseibehs,
Israelis, Jews. The mark of progress I believe now has to do with being
able to transcend place and to feel at one with wherever you are.
Animals like to territorialise. If you can only feel at home in one
specific location, then you are still an animal; you have not grown up.
