Packed seats? Check. An engaged crowd? Check. Sold-out books? Check. Memorable panels? Check.
This is what I witnessed when I attended the “Live to Tell My Story” Event presented by Sweatshop Literacy Movement and United Theatre Projects (Utp) at its arts centre in Bankstown.
The panel celebrated the life and legacy of Palestinian poet and scholar, Professor Refaat Alareer, who was killed in an Israeli airstrike on December 6, 2023. Alareer’s final poem, If I Must Die, traversed borders through the power of social media. The lines “If I must die, you must live to tell my story” and “If I must die, let it bring hope”, were at the heart of two panels where Palestinian, Arab and First Nations writers talked about Palestine, “sovereignty, self-determination, solidarity and bearing witness”.
Ticket sales were donated to Palestinian-Australian charity Olive Kids. Newtown bookstore, Better Read than Read, sold participating authors’ books, with a percentage of those sales also going to Olive Kids.
Deputy Leader of the Greens and NSW Senator, Dr Mehreen Faruqi gave an opening address, reminding the audience of the interconnected plight of Palestinians and Indigenous Australians as Invasion Day approaches. Faruqi stated that leadership positions become redundant if one is to remain silent, whilst artists, journalists, professionals and “cricketers, sorry cricketer” face repercussions. Faruqi deduced that it becomes both “a burden and privilege” to amplify Palestine into the mainstream, and still be able to resume our daily lives.
The first panel titled “For the Record” was facilitated by Dr Jumana Bayeh with guests Dr Randa Abdel-Fattah, Sara M. Saleh and Dr Michael Mohammed Ahmad. It centred around the documentation of the various ways Palestinians resist, including Professor Alareer’s writing. Jumana Bayeh began by checking if she had her papers in order, which saw everyone lower their defences, and succumb to laughter (watch this clip to be in on the remark).
Sweatshop Literacy Movement director Michael Mohammed Ahmad cheekily referenced that TalkTV interview, saying, “I’m not used to listening to women speak”, and in similar fashion, I will platform the female speakers first.
Randa Abdel-Fattah’s address condemned liberal progressives who enable Israeli impunity, and simultaneously shifted public discourse towards questioning if Israel’s response does constitute a genocide. Moreover, Abdel-Fattah noted that mainstream protest coverage always contains a paragraph on rising anti-Semitism — a reality nonetheless — as if designed to directly correlate the two and undermine the protests’ legitimacy.
Sara M. Saleh attested to the “fortitude” of First Nations people who contend with similar colonial structures. Saleh recounted an anecdote from the 2013 documentary My Love Awaits Me by the Sea which stood out to me for its simple truth: Palestinians know that Zionism is outdated, and yet understand that it will continue to perpetuate intergenerational trauma.
Michael Mohammed Ahmad considered the “whitewashing” of Mahatma Gandhi’s beliefs, and praised Nelson Mandela’s descendants for taking the International Court of Justice (ICJ) avenue. Ahmad also reflected on Professor Alareer’s mission, and how it shared a similar purpose to Sweatshop — help empower community youth through the power of reading, writing and critical thinking.
I appreciated not only the mention of the genius that is Edward Said but discussion on how the international erasure of the Arab Canon remains at play. For example, we are not allowed to imagine Palestinian men as funny or romantic or intelligent.
Additionally, the question of writing about identity arose. Is it only a vessel for empowerment? The consensus was that art cannot end a genocide but it “shapes the shapeless and names what we can’t name”. In other words, the more people are killed, the more “writers, poets and artists” that are born.
The panel then deconstructed the narrative that Arab men are “terrorists, sexual predators or gangsters”, referring to the allegations that Hamas, and therefore, Palestinians, are using rape as a weapon of war.
It is important to clarify that Abdel-Fattah explicitly stated that this is not about “not believing Jewish Israeli women.” Instead, it was about blindly believing allegations circulated by the Israeli government while they commit a genocide against Palestinians.
The first panel concluded, “we know the oppressors more than they know themselves”, and that the politics of victimhood — who can be labelled a victim and vice versa — are embedded in storytelling. Regardless of media censorship and the final decision, South Africa’s case at the ICJ has thrust the Palestinian narrative onto the world stage.
The second panel, “Bringing Hope” restarted the evening, facilitated by Dr Sarah Ayoub and calling on Jazz Money, Dr Lana Tatour, Fahad Ali and Amani Haydar.
Fahad Ali vocalised what many have been thinking when he said, “fuck hope”. Ali recounted his sense of pride when he didn’t have to ask a child to lead chants during protests, he only had to hand over a microphone. He also compared university activism during his days to the heightened awareness today, saying “you couldn’t talk about Palestine” then.
Lana Tatour elaborated that the “formerly colonised and First Nations” relate to Palestine because many are still living the consequences of history, yet they are able to safely grieve within their communities. Tatour elaborated on Abdel-Fattah’s discussion of the rape allegations, and spoke about the timeline when she wrote a piece for Mondoweiss. Tatour said that those who spread the debunked allegations do so with the knowledge that they are easy to believe and more difficult to refute once entrenched in public consciousness.
Jazz Money stated she was privileged to visit the West Bank and witnessed the same imagery of the colony in the settlements. Money also argued that populations should not be defined by colonial violence, rather “it is an imposition that has happened to us”. It has forced many to become activists, because “country is our body and vice versa”. In contrast, other people can and are able to become activists by choice.
Amani Haydar proposed that the literature of domestic violence and coercive control can be applied to the current genocide, especially as Palestinians and allies are “expected to manage triggers of others” and watch their own trauma be invalidated. For example, Haydar had to treat both her grandmother’s death by an Israeli airstrike on Lebanon in 2006 and her mother’s death at the hands of her father as “alleged”.
The second panel concluded that we are at the crossroads; intersectionality is being tested. We must not accept our roles of sources and conveyors of information when Western stakeholders desire, rather we must be present within leadership ranks.
Between the two panels, I, like many others, rushed to the book table. I, like many others, missed out on buying one or two anticipated reads.
As a book aficionado, it was heartwarming to see people buying stacks of books. As a consumer, I internally berated myself for not being one of those pushy people in lines. There was an upside, and it was strangers bonding over this shared predicament and finding the humour in the luxuries we are able to enjoy.
Nonetheless, I was able to secure Sara M. Saleh’s poetry collection, The Flirtation of Girls (Ghazal El-Banet) after Songs for the Dead and the Living sold out within minutes of Saleh reading aloud a poignant excerpt.
I hastily wrote down a line that I wanted to share with the Honi readership from Songs for the Dead and the Living, and that is:
“…living in the present tense was the only way to stay alive.”
This has been rendered true since October 7, and since 1948 and since before 1948.
On my bus ride home, I came across this tweet by @MosabAbuToha:
Source: @MosabAbuToha’s Twitter
It was not a coincidence. Professor Refaat Alareer is listening. He may not be here anymore, but his words live on.