by Randah Abdel-Fattah
March 11, 2004The one time I have ever published an article in the Opinion column of a leading Australian newspaper addressing the Israeli-Palestinian conflict was on the 50th anniversary of Israel. The article was an expression of my hope, as an Australian-Muslim-Palestinian-Egyptian, of reconciliation between Palestinians and Israelis. I wrote from the perspective of a young, somewhat naïve, university law student, who had never set foot in her father's homeland, and was only equipped to make sense of the conflict through academic and romanticized lens.
The editor contacted me almost immediately. The article was a sensation. Published in the most prominent section of the page, it attracted letters to the Editor praising my 'courage' and 'good sense'. I continued to receive personal mail, commending me for my moderate stance. I was the good Palestinian who turned her cheek to the Israelis.
One year later, I visited my father's homeland. Occupation, humiliation, oppression, human rights. They were transformed from my mere academic discourse into something vivid and tangible. I returned to Australia and began to write vigilantly, to newspapers, television news programs, magazines, convinced of the urgency of responding to a seemingly slanted and biased campaign to present every report on our people's struggle for freedom in the language of 'isms'. Terrorism, extremism, fanaticism, radicalism. A four-letter suffix capable of systematic dehumanization and delegitimisation of a people's struggle for liberation.
I wrote articles and letters, complaining about media blackout failures on the construction of the separation wall. During the period between 4 October and 25 December 2003, I wrote to expose the falsity of media's claim that the period was one of 'relative calm', 'quiet' or 'lull'. I wrote in my name, as a lawyer, as a writer, as a peace activist, as a founding member of a Palestinian and Jewish women's peace group, as a Media Liaison Officer of a local ethnic and religious community council. I submitted them in the name of my Anglo-Celtic friends or else jointly with Jewish human rights activists. I even toned them down. Appalled became object. Condemn became question. There was always a sweetener at the end about my hopes for peace and goodwill.
Nothing. Since the day I refused to turn my cheek, virtually every article and letter has been ignored.
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