I was given this domain name as a gift in 1999 and I promptly set about learning HTML in order to build the website. Finally, no one could tell me to shut up! I launched myself into the internet with abandon and in the early days, this website housed a very successful and regularly updated blog. That all feels like a very long time ago now and the internet I remember from then – before the rise of the social media giants and before newspapers had really clocked what was happening – feels like a much more varied place. (Does anyone remember that beautiful word-linkage website blather?) At first I eagerly used all of the social media things as they were released: MySpace, Google/Gmail, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and so forth. Sometimes I would get fatigued and want to unplug, but mainly I participated to a high degree and was glad of
I’m trying to think of the best way to start this. I can’t just write about the demo yesterday, because it’s not just about the demo yesterday. Every time I think or do anything about Palestine / Israel, it is always connected to my visit. In Culture in the Plural, Michel de Certeau notes that unless a group can convince wider society of the importance of its stance, it is doomed to merely be a ‘cultural’ issue forever. A folkloric and marginal matter that does not affect (or has no importance for) wider society, and is therefore politicly impotent. The group will remain at best a curiosity, always marginalised, with its voices mainly unheard. Of course, de Certeau was talking about the Bretons and the Basques, but his point is relevant for all those outside of mainstream hegemony who are trying for some kind of political impact. As I previously said, I
Going to Palestine in 2006 changed my life. It was an innocently motivated trip to see the ‘Holy Land’, as I was studying religions and had chosen to focus on the Abrahamic three. In this way, I was utterly unprepared for what I saw and experienced. Prior to going, I had taken only a passing interest in the horrendously difficult mess that is the Palestine / Israeli conflict, as it all seemed so politicised. I tend to shy away from politics, since it all feels like lies. But what I saw changed all of that. I came back promising myself that I must do something more to help the Palestinians than just writing about it and telling people what I saw. Largely, I suppose, I have failed that promise, aside from a half-hearted boycott of Israeli goods (I’m not entirely sure it is the right thing to do since many Palestinians
And so, the time has come to close out my feelings about my Israel / Palestine trip. I thought six entries for the six people in my travelling group was an appropriate place to stop. To try to lighten the load, I shall fill this with random memories of why, no matter how difficult and intense the trip was, I still wouldn’t change it for the world. I learnt a lot, just not what I expected. This is an entry for the fun and the laughter that we held onto, no matter what. Up until we went to the Dead Sea, I was convinced I would never step foot in that country again, but that day was such a pleasurable mix of emotions that I felt my stubborn head be swayed. We started the day at Qumran, and then walked, for what felt like hours in the searing 40/45 degree heat,
I recently came across a book I had to have. (I’m always coming across a book I ‘had to have.’ I recently quit a job at a bookshop for a few reasons, but one factor was that I didn’t make any money: all my wages went back to him because of books I ‘had to have’.) It is called The Palestinians and it is a beautiful, cloth-bound book from the late 1970’s, with words by Jonathan Dimbleby and photographs by Donald McCullin. In the introduction, Dimbleby talks of how, in formulating the situation as ‘the Palestinian problem’, we reflect our own biases and prejudices about the conflict. So, whilst I also believe that we see what we want to (which is why the world exists in multiples), I truly think there is an Israel problem which manifests itself quite peculiarly in the nation’s inability to view anyone as human, its citizens