Imagining Palestinian Liberation
a free Palestine where Muslims, Jews, Christians, and everyone can see freedom in every direction
“Where is Ahmad?”
The soldier called for my name while we were stopped at the last illegal checkpoint on the way from Ramallah to Jerusalem. I am a Palestinian-American; however, once in Palestine, I am no longer recognized as an American – I am simply Palestinian, denied the basic right to movement and pilgrimage to the Holy Land.
For too long, Palestinians in the diaspora, like myself, became travelers on our soil. Unknowingly, perhaps, we chose to forget the realities of occupation, that a few hours south of our homes in the West Bank existed the ongoing enclave of our brothers and sisters in Gaza. That in-between our search for falafel in Ramallah or watermelons in Jenin, there were checkpoints loaded with settlers ready and willing to kill at a moment’s whim.
Now, a reawakening has occurred. It has been almost six months since October 7th, , and I become closer to understanding the catastrophe that my people endured in 1948: children, no older than six or seven, sleeping huddled on muddied floors, under tents in which their lives as refugees begun. Children who are slowly freezing to death as bombs of fire rain down upon them. Children who, when I was their age was consumed in nothing but my interests, have endured more than I ever have – and in that grief of watching my people I have rediscovered what it means to be Palestinian, and what a reimagined what a Palestinian future looks like.
In the last few months, we have seen a rise in global Palestinian solidarity and resistance, but also a strengthening of grips tied around the Palestinians – even during Ramadan and Palm Sunday, Palestinian Muslims and Christians could not even practice their faith in peace. However, as I watch Gazans perform Friday prayer amidst the rubble of their society, I am reminded of what steadfastness looks like, and that you can destroy one’s home or mosque, but never one’s Iman (faith). It is watching the undying faith of my people that has reaffirmed, to me, that Palestine will be free in our lifetime.
This realization was solidified in the countless marches, protests, and sit-ins that so many of us have attended since the beginning of the ongoing onslaught. Most notably, I felt a shift in the Palestinian future after the Washington D.C. protest in November of 2023. The march was the largest in the history of the United States in support of Palestine, and was the culmination of weeks of protests in cities across the country and world (See London with over 500,000 protestors). The march gathered over 300,000 Palestinians and allies, starting at Freedom Plaza and steadily made its way to the White House. Protests, since then, have not died down from D.C. to Australia to Yemen and to our college campuses.
What I, what we, see is that there is resounding support not only for a ceasefire in Gaza, but also for Palestinian liberation and an end to the Israeli occupation. US politicians can no longer say that they are acting in the interests of their citizens.
Palestinians are no longer screaming to deaf ears as the common people everywhere are now aware of the decades of colonial violence against the Palestinians. It is exactly for that reason that the marches are so impactful. A tide is turning, and within the deep grief and anger, I realize that people are no longer confused about who our oppressor is. People are showing solidarity with my people, and I can say that I have never been so sure of it – Palestine will be free.
Like many Palestinians of my generation, we grew up everywhere besides Palestine: physically, spiritually, and emotionally disconnected from where we know we belonged. In first grade when asked to point out where I am from on a map, and being told that Palestine does not exist was a reminder of the continued erasure of my people. But, how can that be? I am here; I am Palestinian.
As a Palestinian in the diaspora, I am often left wondering what a liberated Palestine looks like. Will our people get to return? Will Palestinians get to replant the burned olive trees? Will cities once stolen bear their original names? The essence of resistance to oppression is this ability to imagine liberation.
But imagining a Free Palestine goes further back than the world recognizing our existence, that’s the commonplace. Imagining a Free Palestine, a liberated Palestine, takes root in the memories of what could have been. Living lives not limited by colonial forces. I can see my mom on the stage being the rockstar she could’ve been. I see my dad as a famous soccer player, and my sister as an international supermodel.
Imagining Palestinian liberation starts when every Palestinian, whether in Palestine or in diaspora, listens to the stories of our parents and grandparents being terrorized, caged, and dehumanized, beginning with the Nakba - catastrophe. I clung to the stores of Palestine I heard from my parents and grandparents; these stories liberated me from the confines of western imperialism and gave me the undying belief that Palestine would one day be free because we are a people rooted in resilience, culture, language, and each other. Some were told by my mother when making dishes like Maklouba, which was always served with the Arabic equivalent to bon-Appetit – “Sahtain”, which is so much more than a pleasantry but means “may your health be doubled”. Others were told to us at bedtime, laced in the fabrics of fairy tales where we learned the true strength of Palestine lies in the “Mountain of Fire”. Then there were the stories told through tears as our grandparents relieved their darkest days, carried by every stitch and thread of Palestinian embroidery telling of the towns lost and lives all but forgotten. Holding onto these stories is both our greatest honor and shame as Palestinians.
I wish to walk the lands with my Jewish Brothers and Sisters in a land where there is no division of race or religion - Palestinian cities like Ramallah, Bethlehem, Jerusalem, Gaza, and Haifa have already managed to do this, Palestinian Muslims & Christians living peacefully. A Palestine which existed before colonization. I hope to see a Palestine void of the physical manifestations of colonial imagination, but one imagined by Palestinians across the West Bank, Gaza, and the millions in the diaspora. But this Palestine will not look like the Palestine that existed before it needed liberation.
I will not forget my first home or the people I came from. Within me is their tenacity in times of immense destruction and sorrow, to thrive in a world where they can be free. Free to practice their intricate dances, to eat their food, and to grow their olive trees. Free to awake from nightmares and grow. To extend our olive branches into a life of peace. A world where kids can put on their shoes and run free. Where all Palestinians can close their eyes and see freedom in every direction. That they will open their eyes, sitting underneath their olive trees, and see the freedom they have built together. Until then, we carry on, filled with grief, shame, anger, but defiant in our hope, proud in our identity.
Original piece published for Time Magazine by Ahmad Ibsais - https://time.com/6967434/imagining-free-palestine/