Love & Intimacy Final Part 5

Short videos that center intergenerational outlooks on love and intimacy in Palestine and the diaspora



Taking Leila Home

by Solenne Tadros



by Muna Dajani, Alaa Iktaish, Bassel Rizqallah and Diaa Ali Hroub



Footage via Huntley Film Archive

Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine hi-jack of 3 planes, held at Dawson's Field.



Long Live International Solidarity

Graphics via Palestinian Museum Digital Archive



Yamamoto Maki and The Palestinian-embroidered obi

Japan x Palestine, Cultural Exchange

︎︎︎The finished obi are a collaborative effort by Palestinian and Japanese artisans︎︎︎



Episode 3: Black Goat Act

with Rabea Eghbariah



Palestine Source Document & Archive

Includes learning materials and action sources. For additions or recommendations please contact:



Rediscovered Photos of Gaza

with Kegham Djeghalian by Dana Al Sheikh

︎︎︎In the 1940s, Armenian photographer Kegham Djeghalian opened the first photo studio in Gaza City ︎︎︎



Palestinian Wild Food Plants

with Omar Imseeh Tesdell



Love & Intimacy

Short videos that center intergenerational outlooks on love and intimacy in Palestine and the diaspora



Nothing Old, Nothing New

with Bilnaes featuring Haitham Ennasr, Freya Dutta, Elias Wakeem
and moderated by Ruanne Abou-Rahme 

︎︎︎ Drawing by Haitham Ennasr ︎︎︎

A special ive event in our series, Palestine, IN-BETWEEN:
Nothing Old, Nothing New w/ Bilna'es



Episode 2: Criminal Foods

with Rabea Eghbariah

︎︎︎ Photos taken by Matt Milstein ︎︎︎



The Palestinian Revolution

“The Palestinian Revolution is a bilingual Arabic/English online learning resource that explores Palestinian revolutionary practice and thought from the Nakba of 1948, to the siege of Beirut in 1982.”



Green Girls

Nadine Abu Al Rok, Aseel Al Najar and Ghayda Qudih and their pea agribusiness in Gaza




Click the tweet for the full story by Sama’an Ashrawi



with founder, Raya Manaa



Episode 1: Sustainable Farming
Practices within Palestine

with Raya Ziada of Manjala and Yara Dowani of Om Sleiman Farm in collaboration with Columbia University’s Center for Palestine Studies, Lifta Volumes, Lena Mansour and hosted by Cher Asad


Spotify / Apple Podcast / Anchor FM / Breaker
Radio Public / Google Podcasts / Pocket Casts



Jazirat AlKanz

by Makimakkuk



Ten Commandments for Foreign
Travelers Entering Palestine

by Fadwa Naamna, in collaboration with Haitham Charles Haddad









‘May amnesia never kiss us on the mouth’

by Basel Abbas & Ruanne Abou-Rahme

︎︎︎ Stills from ‘May amnesia never kiss us on the mouth’ ︎︎︎






Lifta Society in Garland, Texas



Palestinian Feminist Discourses






With Haneen Adi and Lina Meruane

︎︎︎︎︎︎  Video created by Mooni Studio for Printed Matter featuring Lina Meruane and Haneen Adi  ︎︎︎︎︎︎

Haneen Adi:
What was the impression of going there and meeting it(Palestine) in the physical vs. how it lives in your imagination?

Lina Meruane

My family arrived in Chile at the beginning of the 20th century so they assimilated and adapted and my father and my aunts never learned arabic. So I did not learn Arabic. My interest in Palestine started a little bit later in my life when I was already living in New York. I sort of almost by chance got to go to Palestine. What I expected to feel was a sort of emotional connection to the place, almost like a physical connection to the place, like something would come up in my mind, some sort of feeling when I saw the family still living there, I would feel some sort of warming up to the family. I didn't really feel that and I was surprised, but at same time I think there is something sort of romanticized about the idea of return.

For me, the interesting and important part was that I immediately connected politically to the situation of abuse. I think it’s because I also lived under dictatorship in Chile. I could recognize the signs of oppression, abuse, fear and I immediately connected and ‘became’ Palestinian through that experience. Through the experience of present-day Palestine, connected to the historical occurrences in the place.



Film in Palestine

︎︎︎︎︎︎  View the conversation between Mona Benyamin, Juna Suleiman and Dr. Nadia Yaqub  ︎︎︎︎︎︎






Palestine, IN-BETWEEN

LIFTA x CPS Present: ‘Palestine, IN-BETWEEN’, a semester-long program that explores contemporary Palestinian cultures and yearnings across generations in Palestine and its diaspora. Through media including live panels, original videos, podcasts, essays, film screenings, and social media campaigns, ‘Palestine, IN-BETWEEN,’ spotlights the untold and unfamiliar. It gives precedent to the under-celebrated; the agents of design who draft and re-draft blueprints for present-day liberation. ‘Palestine, IN-BETWEEN’ is an ode to the powers of self-freedom and agency that breathes life into all beings, unbound from restrictions imposed by states and systems. Its content helps to lay the foundation for desired futures by rejecting the projections of a homogenous Palestinian experience and deconstructing the often flattened Palestinian identity.

This program is presented by CPS + LIFTA with Lena Mansour and Cher Asad.

Click here to learn more about the participants, team and full program!

Palestine IN-BETWEEN is co-sponsored by The Society of Fellows and Heyman Center for the Humanities and the Center for Archaeology.

*Submit to the blog by emailing

Love & Intimacy

A video series by CPS x LIFTA <3

As part of 'Palestine, IN-BETWEEN', we present the LOVE & INTIMACY video series. Over the course of the next several weeks, we’ll be releasing short films that center intergenerational outlooks on love and intimacy in Palestine and the diaspora, with discussions highlighting—but not limited to— disconnects, desires, relationships, trauma, teaching, learning, and beyond. This series includes intimate interviews and conversations held between Palestinians who share a close relationship, including old friends, parents and children, grandparents and grandchildren, lovers, cousins, and more.

Conversations explore what has been inherited and what is being shed, as well as the ways in which taking care of ourselves and each other is to care for the collective—now and into the future. Dialogue moves beyond topics of love in the human-to-human sense, extending to the deep connections one shares with an object, time, smell, memory, land, and ritual.

We’d like to thank all who participated in this series for your time, energy, and openness. The videos are also made available on YouTube. Intro graphic by Ashay Bhave, @slum__prince.

Videos will be released weekly.



In this episode, we meet Marah, 21, and Hafsa, 93. In this video, Marah interviews her grandmother Hafsa, who she grew up living with in the United States. They discuss Hafsa’s beliefs around love being present in the connection between land and happiness, love in the routines of caring for and tending to fig and olive trees, the wealth of simplicity, and her favorite memories of Palestine. Together, they share how love is taught and passed down and the ways Marah has learned Palestine, and love as an extension, through her grandmother. This interview took place in El Paso, Texas.


In this episode, we meet sisters Lilly, 23, and Sharon, 25. Lilly and Sharon are Palestinian-Americans who are based in Haifa. In this video, they interview each other and discuss how experiencing racism as Palestinians in ’48 has inspired their need to love themselves, discovering yourself within your identity, the diversity of Palestinianness and the importance of individuality, learning better communication through quarantine, listening as a form of love, and deconstructing the taboo that love is reserved for marriage.


In this episode, we meet Serene, 41, and Nayrouz, 39. Serene and Nayrouz met eight years ago through a mutual friend at Beit Zatoun in Toronto, a Palestinian cultural center that’s since shut down. While the two grew up in different countries, they share a historical connection to Marj Ibn Amer. In this interview, they discuss nostalgia as a curse, nostalgia as a result of love, solidarity between Palestinians and indigenous communities in Canada, finding fulfillment in one another, learning the diversity of love through the global pandemic, differences and similarities in their Palestinianness, and the ways that carrying an Israeli passport isolates you from connecting with people in countries across the Middle East.


In this episode, we meet Tamara, 26, and her mother, Faiza, 64. Tamara grew up between the US and Palestine, while her mother has lived most of her life in Palestine. They are both based in Chicago, where this interview takes place. They discuss Tamara’s learned confidence from Faiza, sincerity in expression, Tamara finding love in someone who doesn’t tick all the boxes, maintaining independence when in love, hybrid identity, processing 9/11 as a Palestinian, and Palestinian identity relating more to living with principles than living in the past.



In this episode, we meet Aya, 22, and Nada, 22. Aya is a Palestinian-American who grew up in the US and Jordan, and Nada is Palestinian-Emirati and grew up in the UAE. The duo met at NYU Abu Dhabi, where this interview takes place. Interviewing each other, they discuss how you know you're Palestinian if you've never been, the decision and narrative around removing the hijab, reputation as a limitation of love, how community love and independence complement each other, prioritizing mental health, chosen family, and pleasure beyond sexual satisfaction.


In this episode, we meet Nada, 24, and Hana, 24. Nada and Hana grew up in Amman together and share a 16-year friendship. Interviewing each other, they discuss being Palestinian and never having visited Palestine, claiming their Palestinianness in diaspora, the challenges of finding community outside of Jordan, the hardest part of themselves to love, confronting pain and discomfort to heal generational trauma, and how their families view love and intimacy across generations.



In this episode, we meet Justin, 33, and Elie, 71. Born in Palestine, Elie is the father of Justin and a Zen Buddhist priest and clinical psychologist. Justin is a filmmaker currently living in Los Angeles, where this interview took place. They discuss listening as the vessel of love, trauma and moving toward Buddhism as a Palestinian, how to better reciprocate love, where Elie's love and tenderness come from, being raised fatherless and becoming a father, and maintenance of the mind and relationships for a more healthy and full life.


In this episode, we meet Leena, 24, and Nour, 26. Leena is an Egyptian-Palestinian who grew up in Kuwait and Baltimore and lives in Amman. Nour is a Palestinian-American raised in Michigan who now splits her time between Chicago and Detroit. The two met in Washington D.C. through a mutual friend. They discuss grief as a collective and individual experience, building a relationship through sharing their visions, reimagined memory, the value of mercy, taking life in increments, and the connection between landscape and navigating selfhood.


In this episode, we meet Constantino, 36, and Marcelo, 31. Constantino and Marcelo are cousins and first-generation Palestinians in Santiago, Chile. They discuss their position as Palestinians in Chile, why their diaspora community differs from others, maintaining their identity and culture, the pigeonholing of Palestinian-ness, nuclear family, visiting Palestine for the first time, and inherited traits from their parents. This video was translated from Spanish to English by Karime Sierra.



In this episode, we meet Yasmin, 23, and her father, Ala'eddin, 53. Yasmin is Palestinian-Lebanese and grew up in Lebanon, Switzerland, and the US. Ala'eddin lives in Shanghai and Yasmin is based in New York City. In this conversation, they discuss the lessons they've learned from each other, poetry as a higher form of human expression, wholeness as an impossible utopia, the struggle to release, and humor and its cultural significance.


In this episode, we meet Lina, 25, and Hasheemah, 27. Lina is based in Surda, Palestine and Hasheemah is living in New Orleans, Louisiana. They met in a calculus class more than ten years ago and have remained friends since. In this episode, they discuss the concept of romance and multiple soulmates, falling in love with and finding a home in friends, learning boundaries through each other, the importance of showing up, being a good friend despite geographical distance, seeing love in a collective form, and giving as a love language.


In this episode, we meet Noel, 26, and Layan, 31. Noel is based in Cincinnati, Ohio, and Layan lives in Montreal. The pair met through Instagram two years ago, though they describe their relationship as one that evokes the feeling of ‘kicking it with an old friend’. In this conversation, they discuss memes as a love language, navigating and accepting a multilayered identity, finding community through social media, making space for dialogue around trauma and the mundane, the gaps between their own healing processes and their parents, and how their friendship helps them to validate themselves and their experiences.



In this episode, we meet Lara, 41, and Mais, 33. Lara and Mais share a five-year friendship and live in Dubai. Championing the power of self-love, together, they reflect on personal milestones when considering their evolving relationship with their heritage and the process of discovering one’s self through being Palestinian. They discuss Palestine as a forbidden love, and how social media has given the Palestinian cause more visibility and created a stronger sense of identity in younger generations.


In this episode, we meet Lana, 25, and Jenan, 25. Lana and Jenan are based in the UAE and met as teenagers during their ‘Tumblr days’ and share a nine-year friendship. Interviewing each other, they discuss the ways in which their beliefs feel close to or far from their elders and the unique ways that their parents show love. Jenan and Lana speak on how their Palestinianness is similar and different, Palestinian identity in the US versus the UAE, growing into adulthood together, love languages at home, freeing themselves from guilt, and how they build each other.


In this episode, we meet Layla, 24, and Laith, 23. Layla is based in Portland, Oregon, and Laith is based in Los Angeles, California. The pair met a year ago through the internet, making contact with the desire to connect with a fellow Palestinian-American. Though they’ve never met in person, they share a bond that is deep and familiar. In this conversation, they discuss assimilation as a survival tactic, racism in US mainstream media and how it discourages a proud Arab identity, and the path to defining themselves as Palestinians.


Palestine is southern Syria:
On Palestinian solidarity with Jawlani communities

by Muna Dajani, Alaa Iktaish, Bassel Rizqallah and Diaa Ali Hroub

Our project, Mapping Memories of Resistance in the occupied Syrian Golan Heights (1), is an ongoing collaborative effort between academic institutions, activists, artists, and students who are interested in narrating, documenting, and re-telling stories and experience of living with, resisting, and enduring forms of political, socio-economic and cultural domination. The project forms part of the Academic Collaboration between the Department of Geography and Environment at LSE, the Israeli Studies MA program at Birzeit University in Palestine, and Al Marsad Arab Human Rights Centre in the Golan Heights. The overarching theme of the project is examining transformational events in the lives of communities under settler-colonial rule in the occupied Syrian Golan Heights. We examine the trajectories upon which the Jawlanis have embarked on following the great strike (الاضراب الكبير); a six-month strike in the Jawlani villages in 1982 protesting the unilateral Israeli annexation of the region and the attempt to force Israeli citizenship on the remaining Jawlani community. Our project took us on a journey of learning, unlearning, active archiving, brainstorming, and sharing ideas and reflections on how this event continues to be a ‘live’ event. What has been brought to the forefront of those encounters was the centrality of the shared experiences of solidarity and support that Jawlanis and Palestinians engaged in on multiple fronts.

The 1948 Nakba and the Naksa of 1967 are dates in history that are etched in the memory of Palestinians and Jawlanis alike as a year of dispossession, uprooting, defeat, surrender, and betrayal. Nineteen years after the Nakba, the 1967 Naksa expanded the settler-colonial territorial expansion, colonization, and the ethnic cleansing of the rest of Palestine (namely East Jerusalem, the West Bank, and the Gaza Strip) and the Syrian Golan Heights. Our approach in this project has not been to extend our focus to the monumental years and events of the Nakba and Naksa, but to focus on what has been framed as the ‘Shadow Years’ (2). ‘Shadow Years’ refers to the time following the Nakba and Naksa for those Palestinian and Syrian communities who remained in their towns and villages. They had to make sense of the material uprooting they endured from their lands and the abrupt deformation to their societies and way of life, putting them at the forefront of an encounter with a settler-colonial state. During these shadow years and as the settler colonial systematic uprooting intensified, communities mobilized, resisted, and collaborated with each other to solidify relations and build collective resilience.

This photo essay and the mapping project aims to initiate a recollection of testimonies, memories, and strategies of collective struggle, resistance, and resilience (sumud) that Palestinians and Jawlanis engaged with in their collective struggle and encounter with Israeli settler-colonial rule. We shed light on how this solidarity has shaped the Palestinian and Jawlani struggles and how we see its pertinency to inspire and invigorate future generations to reimagine new pathways of action.

* Scroll to bottom for footnote 


Nazeeh Abu Jabal on early Palestinian-Jawlani solidarity: “protect your land!”

Nazeeh Abu Jabal is a walking encyclopedia and a great storyteller. His sharp memory and love for history, as well as his local knowledge of the land, takes one on a vivid journey of the past. The story of the Jawlan after 1967 is filled with contrasting feelings and experiences. The Jawlani community was uprooted from its Syrian roots and forced to accommodate a new regime of settler-colonial rule, a new language and lexicon, a new currency, and a military rule that aimed to expropriate and exclude them from the means of production and political identification and belonging. 

︎︎︎ A picture of Majdal Sham with a sign in Hebrew/English in 1974 (3) ︎︎︎

The Jawlanis’ triumph against these impositions described above could not be illustrated more clearly than with how the remaining villages’ lands were reclaimed, parceled, and transformed, creating the iconic landscapes of apple orchards in Majdal shams, Masada, Buq’atha, and Ein Qinya. Nazeeh’s recollection of the monumental efforts of the Jawlanis to protect their remaining land from confiscation brings to the forefront the role of Palestinian counterparts who alerted the Jawlanis to the creeping threat of land confiscation, as Nazeeh shares (4):

“After the 1967 occupation, we were able to be in touch with our friends and extended families inside Israel in Rameh and other Druze villages. One of our main concerns and inquiries were about the Israelis and how to deal with them and we sought their advice. Their first advice was: take care and protect your land. Any land left barren and uncultivated is going to be confiscated by the state. Water, springs, wells are going to become state property. You have to be strong and protect your land and water to preserve your existence. They shared with us that the Israeli state left them with no land and water through laws they imposed during the military rule. In the following months, we continued receiving more knowledge and advice from them on how to tackle the Israeli policies aimed at controlling our land and water. My father sat down with his friends and I was there. One friend advised: any land that is designated as Syrian state land such as forests, if not utilized by you Jawlanis, will be turned into Jewish settlements. One of those areas is Al Balan – an area between Majdal Shams and Masada. You should bring bulldozers to take out the forest and plant apples, there will be a lawsuit filed against you but the law states if you plant it for two years then you will definitely win the case. Plant any uncultivated barren land.”

︎︎︎ Nazeeh Abu Jabal in his apple orchard in Al Marj, Majdal Shams (Photo by Muna Dajani, 2017) ︎︎︎


Samira Khoury: women solidarity for justice and peace

This summer, Samira will be 93 years old. She was born in Nazareth in the Galilee, situated in northern Palestine. She dreamt of becoming a teacher all her life and her path in teaching began when she enrolled in “Dar el-Muaalimat” college in Jerusalem. Samira studied in Jerusalem for five years (1942-1947), then she worked in Akka until 1948. During the Nakba, Samira returned to Nazareth and got married. Her marriage to Abu Jaber introduced her to the Communist party, where she became more assertive in advocating for the collective rights of her community. The Israeli authorities suspended Samira and her husband from teaching in the public schools because of their political activism but she found another avenue to continue to advocate for Arab women’s rights. Samira and around 80 other women members of the Communist party decided to organize their work activities under a formal body called al-Nahdah al-Nisayah, or the Democratic Arab Women Movement in Nazareth (5).

“The Golan Heights: the first moment of love with Syria and the Syrians":

Through her activism and mobilization, Samira met with fellow activist and Jawlani women rights advocate Amaly Qadamani, both forging a new path for women-led mobilization and political activism. As Samira shares (6):

“After the occupation of the Golan Heights in 1967, we organized regular visits to Majdal Shams to coordinate and meet with our colleagues like Emilie Kadamani and Amal Abu Jabal and others. We also invited them to come to Nazareth for regular meetings to cook and discuss together how to build our mobilization. We started to protest with them against the occupation in a partnership with our Jewish colleagues. Different charters of the Democratic Women Movements in Rameh, Akko, and the triangle also organized bus trips to Majdal Shams. During the early days of the siege, we used to organize daily visits to demonstrate against the unlawful situation there and we even set up a demonstration tent in Nazareth in Al Ain Square.”

︎︎︎ Solidarity visit of the Democratic Women Movement in solidarity with women of the Golan in 1976  (7) ︎︎︎ 

︎︎︎ International Women’s Day march in Yafa in 1986 with a message to women in the occupied Jawlan (8) ︎︎︎

︎︎︎ Meeting between the Democratic Women Movement and Women from the Golan (9) ︎︎︎

Samira highlights that a turning point in the solidarity work to support Syrian Jawlanis steadfastness against the Israeli occupation was when support with marketing their apple products began taking shape in a more organized matter. In Nazareth as well as in Jenin, Nablus, and Gaza, Palestinian merchants and activists began promoting and marketing Jawlani agricultural crops, such as apples and peaches, to support them and their fight to remain on their land.

The relationships that Samira and her colleagues have nurtured throughout the decades with Jawlani women and their families remain strong and warm. She proudly displays an appreciation plaque gifted to her by ‘The Women of the Golan’ for all her efforts and determination to create bridges of solidarity, mutual aid, and unconditional dedication to justice and peace.

︎︎︎ Appreciation plaque at Samira Khoury’s residence in Nazareth (10) ︎︎︎


Common struggle and solidarity budding inside prison walls

“The prison experience in the 1970s, in my opinion, was the most critical and central stage in Palestinian-Jawlani relations. That was a truly collective experience that transformed our political relations and struggles,” Salman Fakhreldin, a political figure in the Jawlan and human rights activist working for decades to raise awareness of Israeli human rights violations, exclaims (11). Jawlani and Palestinian prisoners were meeting, sometimes for the first time, inside prison walls and learning about each other’s struggles, mobilizing their communities when escalations and clashes arose and participated in acts of solidarity inside the prison commemorating important events. One example is narrated by Hayl Abu Jabal, a veteran political figure in the Jawlan, who reflects on the reciprocal nature of the Jawlani-Palestinian struggle and solidarity. In a post last year on Facebook, Hayl recalls the events of the 1976 Land Day while imprisoned in Ramleh for his role in a secret cell operating from the Jawlan and cooperating with the Syrian intelligence forces. After announcing a strike commemorating the first anniversary of Land Day, the bewildered prison authorities wondered why Syrians would do that? They are not Palestinians! Hayl recalls the reply of Shakib Abu Jabal, a renowned political figure and leader who said firmly: “It seems you don’t comprehend that Palestine is southern Syria!”

︎︎︎ March in the Golan Heights in solidarity with Land Day demonstrators and martyrs (12)  ︎︎︎

︎︎︎ Hayl Abu Jabal post reflecting on solidarity with Palestinians in the 1970s ︎︎︎

Solidarity with Birzeit University - an unlikely beginning:  

“Relations with the university began through the shortest and the most unlikely way we can imagine,” is how Salman Fakhreldin started his conversation about the relationship between Birzeit University and the Jawlanis (13). This relationship started through the Jewish solidarity committee with Birzeit University in the 1970s, which was a committee including Jews and Arabs headed by the physics professor Danny Amit at Hebrew University. We started to get acquainted with them, especially the Jerusalem group. That is how I learned about Birzeit University and their role in leading a popular struggle against the occupation.” In the eighties, the Jawlan and Birzeit University shared common strategies of resistance. In the Jawlan, Salman was heading the media committee that played a critical role in raising awareness about the events of the strike, the siege in Palestine, and beyond.

During that time, Salman was invited to attend a meeting in Jerusalem with the Birzeit Solidarity Committee to share about strikes in the Golan Heights and their aims. While solidarity demonstrations, visits, and financial and political support were consolidated in the 1980s by Palestinians and centered around breaking the siege, voluntary work camps organized by Birzeit University were the highlight of that relationship. From 1985 to 1987, the student council and the voluntary work department organized visits to the Jawlan to support the farmers during apple, peach, and cherry harvesting seasons. Every season, between 150-250 students arrived at the Golan Heights to participate in volunteer work camps, that were in essence political and spaces to learn about each other’s struggle against the occupation. Ali shares how these camps were so influential for solidifying solidarity between Jawlanis and Palestinians: “It was an opportunity to get acquainted with that area, since the Jawlan is far away, and only those who go to visit that area go to Jabal el Sheikh as a touristic area and do not visit the Arab villages in the Jawlan. These visits allowed us to create a brotherhood between Palestinians and Syrians from the occupied Golan outside the prison walls.”


Salman Natour on intersectional struggle: “I’m not from the Jawlan but my heart is with the Jawlan”

︎︎︎ Salman Natour (14) ︎︎︎

Salman Natour was a Palestinian writer and freedom fighter from the village Daliyat al Karmel near Haifa (15). He was born a year after the Nakba and was active in the communist party, the only party where Palestinians inside Israel could become politically mobilized. Salman embodied the essence of Palestinian-Syrian Jawlani solidarity. As a journalist, he contributed to numerous articles about the Golan Heights, especially at the height of the 1982 general strike event and siege. He was also the secretary of the Committee for Solidarity with the Golan which he initiated with monumental figures such as Emile Touma (a Palestinian historian, journalist, and the co-founder of Al-Ittihad newspaper). The committee mobilized lawyers, physicians, and politicians across the Galilee, the West Bank, and the Gaza Strip to support the Jawlanis through organizing demonstrations, solidarity visits, and medical and food support in an effort to break the unlawful siege they were undergoing by the Israeli military forces.

︎︎︎ Salman Natour’s article in March 1982 urging the world to pay attention to the siege in the Golan Heights (16)︎︎︎

His articles were poignant and powerful documentation of events he witnessed when he was able to reach the Jawlan, combined with testimonies he collected from the Jawlanis themselves. These testimonies depicted critical moments in the strike, such as the collective act of throwing the Israeli identity cards authorities tried to impose on the Jawlanis and they vehemently refused.

︎︎︎Iconic photo of collective throwing of the Israeli identity cards in 1982  (17)︎︎︎

Salman continued his mobilization efforts through his attempt to testify before the United Nations Human Rights Commission in Geneva on the conditions of Arabs in occupied territories. However, the Israeli authorities issued a travel ban on Salman and confined him to his village for six months where he couldn’t even continue visiting the Jawlan (18). 

︎︎︎Natour writes at the 1st anniversary of the strike (Al-Ittihad, 15 February 1983) (19)︎︎︎

Salman’s mobilization with the Jawlanis was not limited to the strike and he continued to document and commemorate the anniversary with his counterparts. During an event in Majdal Shams celebrating the 31st anniversary of the strike, he spoke of the strike as the most fascinating period of his life, when the collective struggle of Palestinians and Jawlanis solidified and transcended artificial borders created by settler colonialism (20).

Salman expresses the centrality of the strike in his life by reiterating, “As an author, politician, as an Arab and a Palestinian, I carry the Jawlan strike experience with me wherever I go.”



(1) For more information, check the project’s website here

(2) New Directions in Palestinian Studies (NDPS) carried out its fifth annual workshop in March 2018 at Brown Univeristy and was entitled “The Shadow Years: Material Histories of Everyday Life,”. This workshop attends to Palestinian experiences overshadowed by the overwhelming focus on moments of rupture such as 1917, 1936–1939, 1948, and 1967.

(3)  National Library of Israel. 1974.

(4) Interview with Muna Dajani. Summer 2017.

(5) Eventually, The Movement of Democratic Women in Israel emerged as a collaboration and integration of two movements: The Democratic Arab Women Movement and The Progressive Jewish Women Movement. Rosa Luxemburg website. Tandi movement of democratic women in Israel.

(6) Interview carried out by Alaa Iktaish on 13 March 2021 in Nazareth.

(7) The Palestinian Museum Digital Archive.

(8) The Palestinian Museum Digital Archive.

(9) The Palestinian Museum Digital Archive.

(10) Photo taken by Alaa Iktaish. March 2021.

(11) Interview with Salman Fakhreldin conducted by Diaa Ali Hroub.

(12) Photo from Retrieved in 2017.

(13) Interviews conducted by Diaa Ali Hroub in 2020.

(14) Retrieved from arab48 website. 2017.فسحة/جدول/2017/07/15/في-ذكرى-ميلاده-أمسية-لسلمان-ناطور-في-الجولان-|-مجدل-شمس

(15) Research conducted by Bassel Rizqallah.

(16) Al-Ittihad newspaper. 12 March 1982. 13 thousand detainees appeal to the free of the world. P.7. Retrieved from National Library of Israel archive.

(17) National Library of Israel. 1982.

(18) Jewish Telegraphic Agency. 1982. Jta daily news bulletin. May 13 1982. Vol. LX, No. 92, p. 3. Retrieved from

(19)  ص2، لو اعتقلتمونا جميعا وسننتم الف قانون فلن تستطيعوا تغيير جنسيتنا السورية، سلمان ناطور

(20) Aiman Abu Jable YouTube Channel. 2013. مداخلة الكاتب سلمان ناطور في ذكرى انتفاضة الجولان، يوتيوب: قناة أيمن أبو جبل، تاريخ النشر: 15 فبراير 2013، تاريخ الوصول: 30 أبريل 2021، في:



‘Taking Leila Home’

by Solenne Tadros

It was January 2018. I gathered my colored pencils and sketch paper and sat down with my 84-year-old Palestinian grandmother at her dining room table in Amman. I asked her to illustrate the memory of her bedroom in Haifa, Palestine––what it looked like in 1948, the last year she physically occupied that space. She was 13 then.

︎︎︎ Solenne as a child with her Grandmother, Leila Khoury Nimry ︎︎︎

I'll never forget her wearing her thick seeing glasses, bending forward, bringing her face so close to the paper. She wanted to be as detailed as possible. She began using different colored pencils to draw out the placement of her furniture. I sensed waves of frustration ripple through my teta as she tried her best to illustrate her memory. I'd, too, experience frustration––though a different kind––when translating her illustration into a 3D virtual reality model to take her home.

I jumped into project (X)odus thinking I could digitally revive my grandmother's memory of her childhood bedroom using virtual reality technology. The goal was to give my grandmother a piece of her childhood digitally. To my surprise, the project's development would lead to my shedding of many tears, extreme feelings of helplessness, and artist insecurity. It took me three nervous years to show my grandmother the final project.

Prior to this project, the childhood memories with my teta were of us watching Martha Stewart together or sneaking away into her bedroom to find chocolate she saved for me. She always smelled of breadsticks and tea time, and all I knew of her past was that she was Palestinian. We'd never gone into the nitty-gritty details. The idea of Palestine that I was familiar with was a culmination of stories I'd heard from the news and people around me. However, after several one-on-one interviews with her and trying to understand her own story for the first time, I found it very difficult to fathom how a woman with such an intense childhood, filled with loss, displacement, and instability, could remain so poised, collected and uplifted.

I pieced together her memories relying on her drawings and interviews. The virtual reality scene I created consists of a bedroom with no walls––borderless––placed in the center of her neighborhood in Haifa. Using a 360 screenshot from Google Maps captured in 2017, I recreated her bedroom on the same street she grew up on in Haifa. I spent hours photoshopping out modern-day objects and replacing store signs in Hebrew with Arabic. I could have added walls to her bedroom, but this virtual reality re-creation wasn’t only about taking her back to her childhood bedroom, but taking her back to her childhood bedroom in Palestine. I wanted her to recognize the location above all else. When asking her about her favorite songs growing up, she always answered, "Asmahan." Incorporating Asmahan's music was another element of nostalgia that could potentially elevate my teta's experience in this virtual reality creation. So I added my teta's favorite song by Asmahan, "Layali Al Ons" ليالي الانس." Floating above the 3D modeled furniture is a calendar dating back to 1947, with a photograph of Asmahan on top.

︎︎︎ Solenne’s 3D renderings of her grandmother’s memories of her childhood room in Haifa, Palestine ︎︎︎

All of the 3D model furniture I used to recreate my teta's memory was downloaded for free from several 3D modeling websites online. With her illustration by my side, hours and hours were spent on Google trying to find the perfect 1930s bedside table, a wooden vanity set, and the intricate white wrought iron bed frames that she explained to me in detail.

I downloaded a 3D model of a rag doll and placed it on my teta's "bed." It represents the doll she used to fall asleep with as a child, the doll she had to leave behind when she fled Palestine to seek asylum in Lebanon. Next to her bed, I placed a framed black and white photo of her 13-year-old self standing next to an olive tree in Palestine. There are two identical beds in the virtual reality scene, as she shared her bedroom with her younger sister, who now lives in Beirut.

A lot of this project required improvisation. Using furniture that somewhat resembled her memory. Trying to add as many details from my teta's memories into the scene, even if it didn't make sense at times. I was accumulating the stories from my teta's life in Palestine and compressing them into one space as best as I could. I was no virtual reality pro, but I saw this as the only immersive medium that could help make my teta feel present in Palestine.

When I interviewed my teta and she spoke about Palestine, she never mentioned Palestinian food or clothing. She spoke about family and her dog Dinky. How her mother used to order furniture from France using French catalogs. How her father used to light the Christmas tree using candle fire, and how she lost him when she was only nine years old. The church she could see outside her window and the tall eucalyptus trees.

︎︎︎ Leila Khoury Nimry in her youth in Palestine ︎︎︎

Nowadays, we try to keep Palestine alive through its rich cuisine and cross-stitched attire, wearing the keffiyeh and attending social justice protests in solidarity with the Palestinians. But when my teta was uprooted from her Palestine, she did not lose traditional Palestinian cuisine, nor did she lose traditional Palestinian clothing. She lost her foundation. She lost familiarity with where she belonged. She lost the future she envisioned having with the people she loved. She lost the soil that gave her safety and security. She lost the bonds she made with her community.

As an artist, I allowed myself to be vulnerable enough to empathize with my teta's story. But in feeling her emotions and pain, I felt like I could never do her story justice. I felt frustrated working with a new technology and helpless in knowing that no matter how much time I invested in the project, I could never truly bring my teta back to her Palestine.

It took me three years to share it with my teta in March 2021. Between 2018 and 2021, this virtual reality scene was exhibited in New York, Dubai, Abu Dhabi, and Rotterdam. I witnessed people eager to put on the VR headset and experience my teta's memory of Palestine.

Exhibition Guest: “What is this?”

Me: “I recreated my teta’s childhood bedroom in 1948 in Haifa, Palestine in VR!”

Through my teta's memory, people were time traveling and experiencing her Palestine.

At a bazaar in Abu Dhabi, I set up a booth next to another young Palestinian woman. She was intrigued to try out the VR experience and put on the headset to visit my teta's former bedroom. When she removed the headset, she cried and embraced me. Her tears were reflective of many things: her pain, her sense of yearning to return to her homeland, her sympathy. 

I'd felt like I was exhibiting a digital illusion, an inaccurate depiction of my teta's memory. But it was enough to give the woman in Abu Dhabi a sense of comfort and a sense of hope that she was, in fact, back in Palestine. No travel required, no documents required. Back home.

︎︎︎ Click for a snippet of “How Would You Feel?”︎︎︎ is a project that supports the rebuilding of lives that have been affected by man-caused displacement. This project is inspired by Leila Khoury Nimry, who was forced to flee her home in Haifa, Palestine in 1948 due to invasion, occupation, and apartheid.

“How Would You Feel?” is a snippet from Leila's story, head to to read the full article.