From the River to the Sea, Palestine Will Be Free. Until Then, Go Into the Darkness and Read Something That Keeps Your Weary Heart Beating.

Like I said, another day, another nightmare, right? Call it a negative trait, but when things seem bleak in the world, I have this tendency to peer further into the darkness instead of looking away. I need to know more. I’ve come to find that most of us are so detached from the forces shaping our lives. But, if ever there was a better time to employ what C. Wright Mills described as 'the sociological imagination', it is now. This Pulitzer Prize winning book by Nathan Thrall does just that. In this work of narrative nonfiction, Thrall provides an account of a Palestinian man named Abed Salama and his experience living under Israeli-occupation before, during, and after the loss of his 5-year-old son in a horrific 2012 bus crash. It illuminates how this tragedy is not a singular event isolated from the circumstances that preceded it, but rather is linked to the ongoing oppression of the Palestinian people as a whole. With its diverse cast of characters and constant time jumps, reading this book was like seeing an elegiac paint-by-numbers form on a canvas—it didn’t take long to see the tragic picture emerge.

Chapter by chapter, I felt myself getting further incensed as I learned about the systemic failings that could have prevented this devastating outcome: the apartheid system; the segregated neighborhoods and classed ID cards; the constant prejudices and daily oppression; the inferior roadways and infrastructure and the nebulous emergency response, amongst other frustrating realities for Palestinians. Each of these showcased what it’s like to live life under siege. And even still, I was reminded of the fact that while systems of oppression aren’t always nuanced, people themselves are. After all, we are products of our environment, but not all the Israelis featured in this book were subscribers of Zionism. Horrors notwithstanding, in more than a few instances, there was empathy and understanding on both sides of the aisle.

Even taken out of the current context— a blatant genocide of Palestinian people—this book was a heartbreaking read. I cried for those babies on the bus—Milad and his classmates, for their families, for the first responders, and for the Palestinian people as a whole. Because as much as the world (or at least some of us) are paying attention now, these daily oppressions are nothing new. But this is why books are made— to quite literally give a glimpse of a day in the life of someone else and make us feel something about it.

If what is happening in Palestine enrages you, I urge you not to check out. Stay enraged. Stay informed. And learn as much as you can. Keep talking about it with everyone you know. Here in the West, we have it so easy: we get to be ignorant and stop scrolling or click out of stories that unsettle us. But it’s important to bear witness, to seek greater understanding of all the forces working to oppress people, and to keep the conversation going. That’s the least we can do.

After all, nobody is free until all people are free.