A Cloak Called Sumud: Intifada Dreams

The inaugural issue kicks off with words from our mother.

“I didn’t go to school for this like all of them. I mean, publish it if you want, but no one wants to hear such simple words.”

رسائل النزوح القسري

Letters of Forced Displacement

Abeer Muhammad Awad

Miles and miles away from home

They took me to the unknown

Promise of a future that would be bright

Sent to a school and taught their plight

Pages and pages of a made up past

Disguise the killing of a mass

A civilian in a nation that sleeps

longing to return to a country that weeps.

Abeer Muhammad Awad is the most beautiful Palestinian soul in the whole world living on stolen indigenous American land. She is a mother of three, wife of her One, cardiovascular nurse, and proud keeper of our heritage.

صمود Sumud: meaning “steadfastness” or “steadfast perseverance” in Arabic, is a common term used to describe Palestinian nonviolent everyday resistance against Israel's occupation. The concept of Sumud has acquired several meanings and applications at various junctures of the Palestinian struggle against ethnic cleansing. Rather than having a fixed definition, Sumud is a continuum of goals and practices of resistance that have been responsive to changes in the dialectic of oppression and resistance. It covers a wide range of cultural, ideological, and political practices and values. Although Sumud is not limited to everyday practices, it shares characteristics with everyday resistance and resilience in other contexts, for instance with the South African concept of ubuntu (“humanity”).

انتفاضة Intifada: A Palestinian uprising against the Israeli settler colony. Intifada is an Arabic word that literally means “shaking off,” and in the Palestinian context, it is understood to mean a civil uprising.

Source: Interactive Encyclopedia of the Palestine Question

وحاضري كغدي معي

My Today Like My Tomorrow Is With Me

Leila Khoury

Leila Khoury is a multidisciplinary artist who visualizes the connections between placemaking, the built environment, and community histories through sculpture, participatory research, and design. Khoury received her BFA in Interdisciplinary Sculpture from the Maryland Institute College of Art and her Master of Architecture from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago.

أؤمن بالقصائد التي تخون

I Believe In Poems That Betray

Ayling Zulema Dominguez

I don’t believe in poems that lament

fitful sleep because we cannot shake

the images of bleeding bodies lands

away when we close our eyes and wish

for dreams. Instead, I believe in poems

that betray nationalism meaning

they take no shape of a country nor anthem

but form constellations of power grabs

and miniature explosions in waiting

as the same companies copy and paste

their border walls and “smart fencing”

along make-pretend land divisions

decided by those with ammunition;

from Israel–Gaza to Israel–Egypt to Kenya–

Somalia to Haiti–Dominican Republic to

United States–Mexico to Mexico–Guatemala,

surveillance in any language is always written

in the sanguineous ink of profit, hence

I believe in poems written in illegible

defiance. I believe in holding the other

so close that poems become bygones.

لغة الأرض

Land Language

There is a language our lands speak, a palpitation

of life beyond scorch; fields of our humid memories

hung out to dry. There beside the ripened, unpicked

reclamation. Beside the greener maps we inherited.

The smaller lakes we leave behind. Carry me out of

the lands I defend until I am but a haunting

and the winds become me, until I am a blur

among the trees that watched me grow.

Prepare for the only natural resource we insist on

carrying: yearning. You will hear my voice echoed

in the soil’s trembling dance and ceremony,

in the pockets of abundant community.

Who will you betray when you are the only lungs

still breathing? Where will your greed find shade?

What waters will welcome your parched throat

and give you the chance to one day sing again?

Ayling Zulema Dominguez is a poet, mixed media artist, and youth arts educator from Bronx, NY, with roots in México and la Republica Dominicana. Their poetry, artistry, and community-nurturing work is grounded in the imaginative, “Who are we at our most free?” Ultimately, Ayling believes in poetry as a tool for liberation, especially when written and sung from the voices of those rebelling against colonialism. 

75 Years. Joana Pintor. Self-taught illustrator. Porto, Portugal. ٧٥ سنة.

توقف

Pause

Muna Hijazi

What is the word for waiting 

as the guillotine swishes through the air—

Is that a pause

What about when the gun cocks?

That one-two click…

Is that a pause

The ticking time of the fuse

running with light and fire.

Is that too a pause

The flames aglow with ruthless majesty

pursuing and consuming all in their path.

Is their hiss and smoke a pause

The time it takes for the bomb to drop

from the plane above.

I guess that too is a pause

As we plummet down

soaring weightless through the air—

A pause yet again

When water rushes into our lungs,

as the cold depths pull us deep…

Another quiet pause

The pull of the knife across one’s throat,

this time a slicing pause

The flight of the bullet from the rifle

to the target—

Another long pause

It seems we have been surrounded

by pauses this entire time.

And yet I cannot catch my breath

Muna Hijazi is a storyteller and professional progressive grassroots organizer who wins real world victories. Consistently recruited to: develop and improve programming, initiate and grow relationships, plan and execute campaigns, train and supervise staff, recruit and develop leaders.

في الإيمان والخوف

On Faith and Fear

Suhad Shtayyeh

It’s been forty days since the attack on Gaza, from land and sky. An aggression so fierce that it has left the world aghast, yet inactive. As we watch these atrocities continue to unfold, with no respite for the innocent, I turn my gaze to the universe and wonder if our answers and actions are in fact elsewhere.

The number forty is a powerful number in mystic thought as cited by many, including famed Turkish author Elif Shafak in her book ‘The Forty Rules of Love’. Forty symbolizes the ascent from one level of spiritual awakening to another. When we mourn we mourn for 40 days. When a baby is born it takes forty days for him/her to get ready to start life on earth. Also, the flood of Noah lasted 40 days. In Islamic mysticism there are forty degrees between man and God, additionally, Jesus went into the wilderness for 40 days, and Prophet Muhammad was forty years old when he received the call to become prophet. Buddha also meditated under a liden tree for forty days.

Could this fortieth day of the siege on Gaza make a difference I wonder in desperation..

Desperation is a negative energy; a word anchored in fear, with a need for control and power.

As fallible humans we cling to the mortal world that we know, futilely hoping to sway the opinions of world leaders and opinion makers. As we hear mothers from both sides of the proverbial aisle, Palestinian and Israeli wail in unison for their lost children, what we hear them say however is very different. The mothers of Palestine have demonstrated an unshakable patience and spiritual resilience anchored in faith, that has left us in awe of their trust in God and their belief in ultimate justice for the Palestinians. They utter prayers of thanks for the martyrdom of their children, and tearfully celebrate their sacrifices for the sake of Palestine. Their energy is connected to the universe and to the divine, and is independent of our world and the powers that rule it.

In the words of Einstein, “Everything is energy and that’s all there is to it. Match the frequency of the reality you want and you cannot help but get that reality. It can be no other way. This is not philosophy. This is physics.”

In terms of energy, we have the choice of connecting to the uplifting, high-frequency energy of the universe which I like to refer to as faith, or the low-grade frequency anchored in ego and mortality which I would like to refer to as fear. The most important difference in these energies is how they mutate over time. Fear can only lead to more fear, hate and anger. It is anchored in a need for control that limits its effectiveness. The energy of faith however is based on an unwavering belief which is then surrendered to the universe to be manifested however which way the universe sees fit.

When you think about it, you realize that it is in the best interest of the Zionists for us to feed on their energy of fear. To consume us with the here and now, just like a bully needs a reaction, so do they. When we adopt the energy of fear, we address our energy to people whom we believe have control. Our whole focus is on how to change their minds; leaders and opinion makers that have failed us, and will most likely continue to do so. The paradigm shift, is to spread our message of faith in the universe and conviction in a free Palestine to as many people as possible, irrespective of individual power.

When we think of the amount of commotion this conflict has created in the past 40 days, and its level of impact, with seas of people from across the world raising their voices and vibrations for the people of Palestine. In energetic terms this is named the movement of global consciousness, which will ultimately shift the status quo as predicted by Canadian journalist and author Malcolm Gladwell in his best-selling 2000 book, ‘The Tipping Point; How Little Things Can Make a Big Difference’. where he refers to the concept of critical mass which occurs when an unshakable belief is held by 10% of the population. Scientists that tested this phenomenon at the Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute in upstate New York discovered that, ‘once that number grows above 10 percent, the idea spreads like a flame.’ Likewise, Mahesh Maharishi the renowned yogi predicted that only 1 percent of humanity is needed to create enough good vibrations to usher in world peace.

Each of us is one person, but together we create the strongest energetic force. The energy and frequency we choose, is a decision that will ultimately affect our world in years to come. Just like the Butterfly Effect, initially identified by mathematician and meteorologist Edward Norton Lorenz in 1972 in which small, insignificant changes in a state of being can result in larger differences in a later state. The famous example of course the flutter of a butterfly’s wings that can result in a tornado a few weeks later.

So the question remains, what do you want to send out into the universe, faith anchored in the divine or fear anchored in mortality. Faith by definition is able to mutate and create lasting change because it is not controlled merely manifested, we have an unwavering conviction that we set out into the universe. Whereas fear will continue to breed more anger, hate and brutality on a loop, only more fierce over time.

Past movements of resistance have needed leaders, Ghandi, Nelson Mandela and others. In our era we no longer need leaders we need a cause, we need evidence and we need a collective voice. The heroes of today are the leaders of yesterday. The journalists and doctors on the ground that are giving voice to the conflict and are under threat of the ultimate sacrifice. 36 journalists to date in Gaza have lost their lives, others unshaken by the thought of death such as Wael Al Dahdouh, Mo’taz Azaiza, Plestia Alaqad, ‘Bisan from Gaza’ and young Aboud continue to inform us about Palestine. Our other heroes are doctors who have risked their lives for the past 40 days to save others, such as Dr. Ghassan Abu Sitta, and valiant martyrs such as Dr. Basel Mahdi and Dr.Hammam Alloh to name a very few who are able to provide the evidence we need, and it is our duty to raise our collective voice.

If I said to you, that your voice is making a difference, it is mobilizing a global movement on social media and on the streets, the ultimate question remains, what do you want to say for maximum impact? You need to scream the truth at the top of your lungs, ‘A Free Palestine, with the right to dignity and justice.’ The message to be energetically channeled through our global consciousness must be greater than just a ceasefire. In the words of the renowned and award-winning surgeon Dr. Ghassan Abu Sitta, “we must think of the day after”.

Don’t let Israel’s aggression allow you to lose sight of the 75 year old problem. Yes, ceasefire, but more. Our voices can be heard; to the detriment of Meta, which despite its strongest attempts and fiercest attacks on Pro-Palestine free speech still remains the best portal for our voices to be heard.

So raise those vibrations, have faith in a better tomorrow, and surrender to the universe. It may take decades to liberate Palestine, in the process, today’s powerful leaders will be replaced by perhaps other more enlightened persons, affected by the global consciousness we are creating today. The military tanks we count today will be replaced with more modern technology and Meta may or may not exist. What will remain for sure, stronger and louder is our energy of faith in a Free Palestine, as described in the famous Palestinian slogan, ‘samidoun’ meaning, ‘still standing resiliently.’ It is not a reference to persons but to the energy of conviction and resilience.

As Albert Einstein once said, “Not everything that can be counted counts, and not everything that counts can be counted.”

Suhad Shttayeh is the founder and creative director of CIIN Magazine based in Beirut, a niche and influential digital editorial that caters to the exposed Arab woman with a passion for advocacy fashion and lifestyle.

اخفِ إبادتي

Hide My Genocide

Yasmine Dalloul

Will you hide my genocide?

Ask me to forget my dead?

Condemn the violence on both sides?

Believe the news articles you’ve read?

Do you support the words that brought you up?

The same ones that broke me down?

Do you stutter at my right to exist?

Unless I agree, am I allowed?

Will you hide the bodies of our children littering the ground?

And swiftly move past my voice and stories without so much as a sound?

And what will you do when my people and I go marching around the town?

Will you hide our genocide with music to make us drown?

Will you busy yourself with everyday life, with jokes and pictures of food?

And jump on a wagon to only make statements on the most shocking news?

Will you ever come back to my house to share some tea with me?

Or are you saying that my people and I are undeserving of dignity?

Yasmine Dalloul is a Palestinian creative writer living in Montreal. Much of her work focuses on abstract commentary regarding Palestine, Palestinian human rights, and the Arab diaspora.

ملاحظة الطبعة

Editor’s Note

We are part of a global front that has been fighting a golden horde of militaristic technocrats, white supremacists, Zionism, corporate feudalism - whatever angle you see through the looking glass - for hundreds of years in this current iteration.

People call the uprising socialism, anarchism, communism, mysticism, the black flag, you can call it whatever you like, it’s all method to dismantling the Empire. Fuck hierarchies and pyramids: as abolitionists, we strive for autonomous lateral movement. 

The only way out is through, together. Take the task to perpetually consider intersectionality and challenge the notion of impossible giants. Globalize the intifada; cast the keffiyeh netting; discover hidden tissue between every fabric of our nature.

Do not be distracted by each pebble thrown. It has been said time immemorial and echoed here that, “The struggle for human rights starts with Land Back and Reparations.” Our prime directive is connecting dots not necessarily for the sake of representing a certain community’s struggle, but to highlight that the People are a netting that surrounds the corrupt beating heart of this world.

We must understand - while always on the quest for understanding - who we are not as individuals, but as comrades. There is a black sun, white hooded history of nonprofit organizations exploiting vulnerable communities. Using them to get ahead. Honor hollowed for capital, some hidden agenda deforming humanity into content; to take, take, take. Pockets of scattered places forbid speaking the master’s tongue due to permanent damage done.

This is an acknowledgement that we are headquartered on stolen land. Let us never ignore the ongoing genocide happening right here in our home to build our lives on top of indigenous American graves, some fresh in our names. While we sit here reading, scheming, they bury their dead due to the recent blizzard. Same story, marginally different details wherever there are NGOs and institutions from police forces to the UN and NATO.

I conjured the concept of A Blade Called Privilege not long ago. And I’d like us to be just that. Except not in concept or in name, but as eventual, actual, blades aimed true.

Thaer Husien ثائر حسين

Editorial Board الهيئة التحريرية