May 3, 2024
Palestinians
have been the sole journalists persistently reporting from the ground in Gaza.
Yet it feels that the world is losing interest in our stories.
Palestinians at the site of a mosque destroyed in an Israeli airstrike,
near the Shaboura refugee camp in Rafah, southern Gaza Strip, April 26,
2024. (Abed Rahim Khatib/Flash90)
As Israel’s
cruel war on Gaza surpasses 200 days, the toll it inflicts on the Palestinian
people grows ever deeper. Both the land and population of the besieged Strip
have been obliterated to a degree not seen since the Nakba of 1948. Famine and
malnutrition have tightened their grip, leaving hundreds of thousands of
families in the north and south desperate for food and medical aid as they
attempt desperately to flee the bombing campaign that hasn’t ceased since
October.
The losses that
we’ve suffered — and are still counting — over the past seven months are
immeasurable. They reflect not just homes and livelihoods, but also the dreams
and aspirations of entire generations. And with Israeli military and government
officials promising an imminent incursion into the overcrowded city of Rafah,
which is now home to nearly two-thirds of Gaza’s population, further pain and
suffering appear to be in store.
And yet, despite
this dire situation, the world’s attention is turning away. The international
community seems to be growing increasingly indifferent to our torment. It is
painful to see how our identity has condemned us to disproportionate suffering
and being treated as less than human by those beyond our borders.
Rather than
offering hope, news of the fruitless ceasefire negotiations has become a form
of psychological warfare. Every failed back-and-forth over the last seven
months has only broken the spirits of the people of Gaza further. Diplomatic
efforts have fallen short of meeting the urgent needs of the people, who demand
nothing less than recognition of their basic humanity and dignity. The
disappointing coverage by the international media, which often amplifies the
voices of the oppressors rather than the oppressed, only adds to the sense of
betrayal and complicity in the ongoing massacre of innocent lives.
As a journalist
and writer from Gaza, I have spent the past months witnessing and documenting
the unfolding tragedies of war. Through my reporting and interviews with
residents from every part of Gaza, I have seen the harrowing toll that this
prolonged bombardment has exacted on my people. Over seven agonizing months of
bloodshed and despair, I have seen our quest for freedom and for an end to this
madness tragically misrepresented in Western media coverage as “support for
terror.” Our voices have been silenced, while every assault on our lives and
bodies is cynically justified by Israeli leaders in the name of “security.”
For us
Palestinian journalists, reporting on the war in Gaza isn’t just a job — it’s a
national duty in the face of overwhelming odds. Continuing this endeavor is
agonizingly difficult: faced with such overwhelming trauma and suffering, the
priority for many journalists, myself included, has been to escape Gaza and
simply survive. But when our cameras are shattered, there’s no one left to
capture the brutal reality of Israel’s aggression against a vulnerable
population. And when our voices are silenced, no one can hear our cries for
help.
The Israeli
government wants us to be voiceless. It continues to forbid foreign journalists
from entering and reporting inside the Strip. And it has attempted to silence
Palestinian journalists directly: the Israeli army repeatedly texted and called
my phone in an attempt to coerce me to stop writing and to abandon my
journalistic responsibilities. It was tempting to prioritize my safety, but I
couldn’t ignore the oppressive conditions my people are facing. If Palestinian
journalists were to stop doing our job, who would fill the void?
The mainstream
media cannot, and will not, champion our struggle as we do. As long as their
notion of “neutrality” reigns supreme, our suffering and dismissed humanity
fall on deaf ears. In today’s context, neutrality equates to siding with the
oppressor while witnessing the oppressed get killed on live broadcasts, their
deaths unjustly rationalized under the flimsy pretext of the powerful’s right
to “self-defense.”
Yet it seems
that doing everything we can to inform the world about our struggle has not
been enough. For over 200 days, we have been unearthing mass graves scattered
across Gaza. For over 200 days, we have been fleeing from the relentless
onslaught of death, with nowhere truly safe to provide refuge. For over 200
days, newborns have come into this world under the ominous hum of warplanes
overhead. And for over 200 days, women and children have borne the brunt of
unimaginable suffering at the hands of the Israeli military.
In spite of the
never-ending crisis, and in spite of the world’s growing indifference, we cling
to the hope that justice will prevail. We yearn for the recognition of our
inherent humanity and right to live freely and equally. True solidarity must
champion justice for all, refusing to prioritize one people’s rights over
another’s. It is imperative that the world directs genuine attention to our
cries of suffering on the ground, and brings an end to the agony and bloodshed.
What we need is
not more talk, more negotiations, more hollow words and gestures. We need
sustained grassroots action all over the world, as well as politicians and
policymakers who are willing to confront the reality of Palestine’s genocide
and to hold Israel and its enablers accountable for their atrocities. This
enduring state of oppression has persisted throughout our existence, infringing
upon every fundamental right to live in safety and freedom. It has been in
effect not only for 200 days, but for 75 years, since the initial displacement
and uprooting of Palestinians from cities, towns, and villages throughout our
occupied homeland.
Now is the time
for a global uprising that refuses to relent until the Palestinian people are
liberated — not only from the horrors of war in Gaza but from the yoke of
occupation that stifles our existence across historic Palestine. The burgeoning
student encampments spreading across college campuses in the U.S. signal a
groundswell of support. Their message should resonate loud and clear: Palestine
remains a cause that transcends borders and calls upon everyone who cares about
human rights.
We envision a
world founded on justice, and these courageous and tenacious students offer a
glimpse of that future. Yet they cannot succeed alone. They need widespread
endorsement and amplification from decision-makers and media outlets alike. For
Palestine isn’t merely a struggle for reclaiming what’s been lost, or for
securing basic rights — it is a battle for the very existence of our people in
the land of our ancestors.
No comments:
Post a Comment