Beyond the watermelon: How poetry remains a pivotal tool for Palestinian resistance
“Poetry is the place where we get to speak from our hearts with power, rage, emotion, and yearning. Instead of being the victims of the situation, we are agents of our own narrative,” says Palestinian poet and actress, Dana Dajani.
“If I must die,
you must live
to tell my story…
If I must die
let it bring hope
let it be a tale”
These were the last verses written by poet and professor Refaat Alareer before he was killed in a targeted Israeli airstrike in December 2023. The poet lost his life, alongside his siblings and their children, while sheltering in his sister’s apartment after having been displaced. In the weeks leading up to the bombardment, Refaat had faced relentless harassment in the form of death threats online and over calls from Israeli accounts.
The Palestinian professor’s heart-wrenching poem was widely circulated and has since been translated into 40 languages. In Refaat’s last interview, he said that he would throw his pen at Israeli soldiers as a last resort if they dared to charge into his house.
Resonating with the Internet community at large, Refaat’s poem quickly went viral, standing at the forefront of the support pouring in for Palestine. “Now we’re seeing all of these kites as symbols of resistance. It’s a very simple poem. Yet, it’s so profound,” says Dana, a UAE-based presenter, performer and poet, known for her theatrical flair, infusing original poetry with diverse social justice themes through her characters.
“The thing that I love about poetry is that it doesn’t appeal to the logical mind, it appeals to the heart. If we have differing ideologies, we can bump heads forever, but poetry bypasses all opinions, beliefs, and what people think they know,” she says.
The keffiyeh has long stood as a symbol of Palestinian resistance. Humanists and social media users worldwide, who have become part activists since Israel’s war on Gaza, have been donning the keffiyeh as they continue to rally in thousands, calling for a ceasefire. The watermelon, which Dana says is ‘a diluted symbol’ gained rapid traction since the Second Intifada (The Second Uprising). Artists used the image of the watermelon slice in lieu of the colours of the Palestinian flag, the waving of which often faced crackdowns by Israeli soldiers.
Dana believes poetry is an empowering and more effective medium of expressing the Palestinian struggle. “If you’re really listening, then you’ll open yourself up to understand somebody else’s experience, somebody else’s story. From that space you could be filled with compassion, you could recognise that we’re not so different after all.”
To the humanitarian advocate and activist, poetry is a form of resistance. “In our poetry we can be defiant, we can be subversive, we can be gentle,” she says.
Dana has been reciting poetry since 2012 when she was invited to perform a monologue for a charity event for Palestine. She gained widespread acclaim through her spoken-word poem Love Letters from Palestine. Having performed all across Dubai where she has the biggest audience, she confesses that the city turned her into a poet, “I studied theatre but I had been in a city with a much more thriving theatre scene, then I wouldn’t have turned to poetry. So really, Dubai made me a poet.”
Speaking on Love Letters from Palestine, which is a fusion of poetry and theatre, she says, “I wanted to write about Palestine, but I felt like my own experience was too limited so I played a character born on the day of the Nakba in 1948.” Al Nakba, which refers to ‘Catastrophe’ in Arabic, commonly denotes the displacement and expulsion of Palestinians that occurred with the establishment of the state of Israel in 1948.
“I hear of olive trees
older than you or me by centuries
uprooted like so many families
relinquished to refugee camps where there is no defence.
Though in the West Bank
we live restrained by a fence
thick enough to drown out the sounds of our sorrows
and muffle the marching beat
of endless feet
martyred in neat
piles which the media sweeps
so slyly under the rug of humanity.”
Dana’s verses from Love Letters from Palestine stand as true today as they did twelve years ago when she first wrote them.
The poet becomes emotional as she speaks about the ceaseless killing of Gazans. Fighting back the tears from her eyes, she says, “We can’t just go on with our lives watching people die… We failed to stay in touch with our humanity. We failed as human beings.”
Dana published her first book of poetry this year entitled The Heartwood Poems. Her collection of Palestinian poetry called An Olive Branch is soon coming in another volume. “The Heartwood Poems features the poems I wrote reflecting on my internal landscape, which is the work I really needed to do to then be able to reflect on my external landscape from a place of self-awareness.”
Earlier this year, Dana also performed the works of Palestine’s national poet Mahmoud Darwish at the Emirates Airline Festival of Literature in Dubai. She says that she noticed a lot of people were increasingly quoting him on Instagram in the past few months. “Darwish is a literary giant who has written over 40 volumes of poetry and ten collections of prose. His work has been translated into 20 languages,” she adds.
At a poetry reading in the desert, through Dana’s powerful voice, the words of Mahmoud Darwish echoed into the night sky as the wind whistled through the hushed gathering, “As a performer, I just wanted to put his words into my own mouth and breathe life into them,” adding that when the LitFest reached out to her asking her to curate an evening for his work, she agreed instantaneously.
The ‘Remembering Mahmoud Darwish’ session at the literary gathering — the proceeds of which were donated to Gaza — honoured the poet laureate’s indelible legacy with Dana at the helm.
The actress says that Darwish’s work speaks for itself. “It’s very alive and relevant. There’s humour, tongue in cheek, and also power. There’s longing and the pain of living in exile. We are seeing them [his work] now more clearly than ever before.”
Putting his work on stage was very important as she says that over 400 people were in attendance and it resonated with them very deeply. Dana believes that Darwish’s voice unites people, “I’ve never had such a response from an audience,” says the poet. “Everyone went out of their way to message me and say that it was one of the most incredible evenings. We laughed and we cried. We felt strength in our solidarity and togetherness. I am glad I was able to be a part of that,” she recalls.
The last stanza of Mahmoud Darwish’s poem Identity Card, written in 1973, expresses the poet laureate’s outrage at what the Palestinians have had to endure:
“Write down:
I am an Arab
You stole the meadows of my ancestors and a land I used to cultivate
Together with all my kids
You didn’t leave to us or to my offspring
Anything—except these rocks
So will your government take them away as well, as it’s been announced
In that case
Write down
On top of the first page:
“I don’t hate people, and I don’t rob anyone
But… If I starve to death, I’m left with nothing else but
The flesh of my usurper to feed from
So beware, beware of my hunger and anger”
After she graduated from university, Dana came across a phrase that has inspired her work since. “Hope is a memory of the future,” she chants. “That’s what we have, we have this memory. We all know that one day, insha’Allah, Palestine will be free.”
Dana explains that at the heart of it, Palestinians have hope because they know that a better day is coming, and that’s what they’re fighting for, “That better day is not just for Palestine and Palestinians but for all of humanity.”
Sarah Madani is a journalist and writer based in the UAE.
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source: khaleejtimes
