Literature is political but it cannot always be used to serve narrow ends
L |
iterature opens a doorway for competing versions of history to coexist without the threat of collision. By using fiction as a conduit for truth and catharsis, writers can contradict the claims of historians and political commentators and shine a revealing light on lived realities. These realities aren’t prisoners to state-sanctioned narratives. In fact, they have a pulse of their own. They may even carry the spirit of resistance. Any literary and artistic endeavour, therefore, has the distinct ability to expose hidden truths, cultivate a climate for dialogue and foster empathy in a time of strife.
The decision to cancel and indefinitely postpone an event at the Frankfurt Book Fair to honour Palestinian author and essayist AdaniaShibli stands in cold denial of the transformative power of literature. The German translation of Shibli’s novel Minor Detail was selected for the 2023 LiBeratupreits by the German literary organisationLitProm. The prestigious accolade, which is conferred on women authors from Asia, Africa, Latin America and the Arab world, was announced in July 2023. Earlier this year, the five-member jury who selected the winner had lauded Shibli’s novel as “a formally and…rigorously composed work of art” that explores the effect of violent conflicts on the human psyche. An award ceremony was scheduled to take place at the Frankfurt Book Fair on October 20, 2023.
The celebratory attention on Shibli morphed into a cloud of controversy as the date for the ceremony drew nearer. LitProm cancelled the event following protests from German journalists Sho voiced concerns about the purportedly anti-Semitic thrust of Minor Detail. The recent escalation in the Israel-Palestine conflict was cited as another justification for the cancellation of the award ceremony. The decision drew the ire of numerous authors and publishers who accused the Frankfurt Book Fair of sidelining Palestinian voices.
Through this myopic decision, LitProm has silenced a literary voice to achieve a seemingly extra-literary purpose. Literature is undoubtedly political, but it cannot be used to serve narrow political ends. Any literary work should, therefore, be viewed as a thread that unites disparate groups instead of a scissor that cuts them apart. LitProm has used the noble cause of quashing the roots of anti-Semitism as a pretext to justify the suppression of a Palestinian literary voice. This is a dangerous form of erasure, especially at a time when many people and global institutions are ignoring the plight of the Palestinians and have thereby become active collaborators in systematic genocide.
The failure to include a ceremony to celebrate Shibli’s literary accomplishments at this year’s Frankfurt Book Fair reflects the narrow-mindedness of the German literary intelligentsia. What’s more, Shibli’s absence at the fair stands out as a missed opportunity. In an insular political climate where ordinary people are being reprimanded for sympathising with the people of Gaza, the award ceremony could have served as a form of course-correction. Shibli’s presence would have enabled another perspective on the ongoing Israel-Palestine conflict to shine through. Instead of using this golden opportunity to provide a voice to the voiceless, the organisers chose to maintain a partisan stance and, consequently, stifle the viewpoint of the victim in favour of that of the oppressor.
The decision to cancel and indefinitely postpone an event at the Frankfurt Book Fair to honour Palestinian author and essayist AdaniaShibli stands in cold denial of the power of literature as a transformative force.
Such instances of flagrant partisanship aren’t unprecedented in the literary world. In 2019, the decision to confer the Nelly Sachs Prize on British-Pakistani author Kamila Shamsie was withdrawn owing to her support for the pro-Palestinian Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions movement. Sceptics may argue that Shibli has mercifully been spared the fate endured by Shamsie since her award hasn’t been rescinded by LitProm. But, even so, the cancellation of the award ceremony can be construed as a symbolic snub. It is an unnecessary move that seeks to diminish the author’s literary accomplishments by conflating them with the activities of Hamas. In a time of conflict, literature has the power to brighten the darkened pathways towards understanding the other. In this case, literature has been misinterpreted as political propaganda rather than a window into the lives of the perceived enemy.
In the first segment of Minor Detail, Shibli recollects the hauntingly true story of a young Arab Bedouin-Palestinian girl who was gang-raped by Israeli soldiers in 1949. The latter half of the narrative features a Palestinian woman who seeks to understand the intricacies of this gruesome incident. Some critics have asserted that Shibli’s novel paints a black-and-white portrait of Israelis as oppressors and Palestinians as their vulnerable victims. These claims are absurdly simplistic and stand the danger of propagating victim-blaming. Stripped of its geographical context, the story of a girl being gang-raped would attract widespread outrage, irrespective of who the perpetrator was. Readers who view the characters in Minor Detail as ‘types’ that represent political ideologies instead of individuals will undoubtedly miss the forest for the trees. In a similar vein, Shibli doesn’t wish to make political statements through her novel and wants it to be viewed as “a place for thinking about language…and identity”. Her detractors are arguably viewing the text through a skewed lens.
The growing preoccupation with reading fiction by Palestinian authors as propaganda rather than a meditation on the human condition stems from an inability to view Palestinians as full-blooded people with emotions. A concerted effort needs to be made to amplify more Palestinian literary voices and remind readers that innocent people are falling victim to rampant Israeli bombardment.
They Fell Like Stars From the Sky, a recently released collection of 18 stories by Palestinian author SheikhaHelawy, offers a noteworthy reminder of the need for this spirit of humanity. Translated by Nancy Roberts, the stories are fuelled by feminist values and capture the resilience and tragedies of Bedouin Palestinian women and girls. The collection is avowedly part of the author’s “process of reconciliation” with her own Bedouin identity. Incidentally, Helawy belonged to the village of Dhail El Er’j, which was demolished in the 1990s to make space for an Israeli railway. Politics is seeded into these stories by virtue of their setting. However, each story has powerful insights into gender confrontations and the earnest struggle for empowerment. These people-centric tales about negotiating the boundaries of social conventions seldom catch the eye of the Western intelligentsia. Therefore, it comes as no surprise that Shibli’s novel is being viewed in a unidimensional, unintelligent manner.
The writer is a freelance journalist and the author of No Funeral for Nazia