A Book With Which To Start A Peaceful Democratic Revolution

http://www.thedailystar.net/beta2/news/a-case-for-palestine/#.UiDEXIb317k.gmail

Published: Friday, August 30, 2013

Book Review

A Case for Palestine

Abdullah Khan

Before the Zionists came to stake claim on Palestine as ‘a land without people waiting for a people without land’, Palestine was a cosmopolitan, multicultural and multi-religious society with Christians, Muslims and Jews living together peacefully. The creation of Israel in 1948 was the catastrophe for the native Palestinian Christians and Muslims as most of them were either massacred or were forced to flee. Later, in 1967, the Israeli forces occupied whatever was left as the truncated version of Palestine. The interesting part of the story is that despite being the victims of the Israeli atrocities and brutal military occupation, the Palestinians are seen as the antagonist of the Middle East conflict.  The pro-Israeli writers and media managers so far have been able to convince the west that the Palestinians are responsible for the violence in the Middle East. But, things are changing fast as many

The Almond Tree
Michelle Cohen Corasanti
Garnet Publishing (UK)

Palestinians as well as Jewish writers and artists are coming with the Palestinian counter -narratives of the Israel-Palestine conflict. Recently published novel The Almond Tree by Michelle Cohen Corasanti is going to be a very significant book for changing the way Americans look at the Israel- Palestine issue.  Jewish American Michelle had studied at Hebrew University, Jerusalem. And after spending seven years in Israel, she could know about the Middle Eastern history and was moved by the pathetic conditions of Palestinians under the Israeli occupation. And in order to tell the story of Palestinian people to the world, she decided to write this novel. In her own words, she wanted to shine a light on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and show that there was a better way. .
Told in the voice of a gifted Palestinian boy called Ichmad Hamid (read Ahmed Hamid), the novel opens with a heart rendering scene of Ichmad’s little sister running after a butterfly when she is blown to pieces as she steps on a landmine planted by the Israeli forces. Later, Ichmad’s father, Baba, who is an incorrigible believer in the idea of peace and non-violence, is jailed by the Israelis when a cache of arms buried by the Palestinian freedom fighters, is discovered in the backyard of their house. Their humble house is also blasted by the Israeli soldiers making them homeless. In absence of their father, Ichmad and his brother, Abbas, have to work as construction workers for Israelis where a fanatic Jew pushes Abbas from scaffolding making him crippled for the rest of his life. Even, after losing everything and even after facing all the possible adversaries in his life, Ichmad doesn’t give up, and continues to pursue his dream to educate himself. And against all constraints, he succeeds. Abbas on the other hand takes a different route and joins a political group which is fighting against the Israeli occupation.
The Almond Tree is a story of the triumph of human spirit. It is also a story of a man’s unshakeable faith in humanism and his refusal to hate someone who has been the cause of his miseries. The story is spell- binding with universal appeal and has potential of becoming an international bestseller and can do for Palestinians what The Kite Runner did for Afghanistan. It humanises a culture and brings characters from a distant land to life, with a family united by love but divided by their individual beliefs. From Ichmad Hamid’s traditional mother, to his father, Baba, who believes in the power of education, the crux of the family’s story lies in the growing dispute between two brothers, Ichmad and Abbas, who choose very different paths in order to create a new future.
Finally, the message the author wants to convey through this book is how strong the Palestinians and Israelis could be if they worked together to advance humanity. She also wants to remind the Israelis of what Rabbi Hillel (30BC-10AD), one of the greatest rabbis of the Talmudic era had said two millennia ago. Rabbi Hillel had said, ‘That which is hateful to you, do not unto another: This is the whole Torah. The rest is commentary.’

‘Children of Catastrophe,’ a refugee’s story by Jamal Kanj

Michelle Cohen Corasanti on August 2, 2013

Children of Catastrophe cover art

A review of Children of Catastrophe: Journey from a Palestinian Refugee Camp to America by Jamal Krayem Kanj.

Children of Catastrophe is an autobiographical story by Jamal Kanj, a descendant of Palestinian refugees who were expelled from their homes in 1948. In 1958, Jamal came into the world in the refugee camp Nahr el Bared in Northern Lebanon. He was his parents’ first child to be born in a room instead of a tent like his older siblings. The story tells of the crude structures that gradually replaced the tents.

Although Jamal came into the world with what we might perceive as the bare minimum, a refugee in a country that did not want his kind, in anything but a stable political environment, throughout his life he had the love and encouragement of an unshakeable family that would do anything for each other. Despite the overwhelming hardships, incredibly his family persevered as a unit under seemingly insurmountable conditions. They faced everything as a solid unit that could not be broken, through thick and thin, his family lived for each other.

Jamal Kanj (photo: Alternate Focus)

Jamal Kanj is an engineer and his style of writing is almost clinical. He is very clear, direct and precise. Reading Children of Catastrophe I experienced what Zionism meant to Jamal and his people, the Palestinians. How one people’s dream became another people’s nightmare. 

So often we only think of our own dreams and desires and not how what we want affects others. As a Jewish American, I was taught that after the Holocaust, the Jews found a “land without a people for a people without a land” and made the desert bloom. When I first went to Israel, an Israeli told me that there were 21 Arab countries and the Palestinians needed to choose one as they didn’t want them in Israel. I had no idea who he was talking about. I thought Palestinian was a synonym for Israeli and referred to the Jews who were in Israel before 1948. I thought it was like Persian and Iranian. How would I know otherwise when I was indoctrinated that we Jews found a land without a people?  All we learned was how Israel was the safe-haven for Jews. We never understood what Zionism meant to the Palestinians. Our entitlement to the land was inculcated into our heads because of the Holocaust even though Palestinians weren’t responsible for the Holocaust. 

As I read his book, I was stung by how people can be so cruel and amazed how resourceful children can be. Here in the US where drinking and drugs are prevalent in our society among our youth, Jamal and his friends were fighting to survive. There was no sense of entitlement or laziness that we experience in the US among many of our youth. Instead I could see the deep desire to improve not only one’s own life, but the lives of one’s family members as well.

I stand in awe of the distance Jamal had to traverse as a refugee to make a new life in America becoming a registered professional engineer in California with graduate and post graduate degrees in civil engineering, management and executive leadership.

In the Palestinian refugee camp of Nahr el Bared, the brutal environment motivated parents to stress the power of education to excel and succeed in life. With the divorce rate said to be about 50% in our American culture of instant satisfaction, people jump ship when things get difficult. I doubt many couples would remain together when faced with the hardships that Jamal’s parents faced. 

As an American, it’s important to read Jamal Kanj’s story, not just because he is a Palestinian, but a Muslim. With the prevalent Islamophobia in America, it’s vital we not focus on the extremes in any one culture, for we find these cases in every religion and culture. It is more important to see how Muslims face injustice and overcome adversity. 

Unfortunately too often instead of celebrating differences and working together to advance humanity, we focus on our differences and destroy opportunities. At the end of the day, we all belong to the human race. We all want the same things for our children: a safe environment, a place to call home with a roof over our heads, education, freedom, love, happiness, a future, a world in which our children’s worth isn’t judged on their religion, race, color of skin or any other dividing factor, and their basic needs are met. Children of Catastrophe should be required reading for all and I hope one day Kanj's book will become a movie so that people can see what it was like to be a Palestinian refugee in Lebanon.

We need to hear these stories because awareness leads to understanding and understanding leads to change. By reading Jamal Kanj's story, we become aware of ourselves as human beings and the horrors we create for others. We cannot afford to be ignorant to the truth, holding onto fallacies. In the words of Stephen Hawking, “The greatest enemy of knowledge is not ignorance, but the illusion of knowledge.” Through awareness we can put an end to these great injustices committed against the Palestinians.  No one lives in peace when we condemn others to misery.   



(Michelle Cohen Corasanti is the author of The Almond Tree)

A Mention Of Corasanti In A Review of Another Author's Work

              A Review of Ellis Shuman's Virtual Kibbutz 

The Author

Ellis Shuman is a writing professional who works in Ramat Gan. Born in Sioux City, Iowa, he made aliya to Jerusalem as a teenager, served in the IDF, was a founding member of a kibbutz, and now lives on Moshav Neve Ilan. Ellis is the author of ‘Valley of Thracians’ a suspense novel set in Bulgaria, and of 'The Virtual Kibbutz,' a collection of short stories set in Israel. Ellis lived with his wife for two years in Bulgaria, and blogs regularly about Israel, Bulgaria, books, and whatever else comes to mind. 

As you see from the above, he's definitely had the life experience to entitle him to write about Kibbutzim. He use this license, brilliantly and has made a very important contribution to (the) Opera Corpus devoted to kibbutz life. 

A link to the book: Link to Book on Amazon

REVIEWS OF THE BOOK

Handsome Paddy's Review on Amazon. (NO SPOILERS)

A collection of sophisticated, and beautifully written stories by one of Times of Israel's most distinguished journalists.

The characters, kibbutzniks, are well developed and multi-faceted to the extent that one ends up thinking one knows them personally.

I refuse to spoil it for you. READ IT YOURSELF!! 

I recommend this to all members of the literate community, and suggest to those who have yet to join us, that they get someone to read it to them.

                                              Michelle Cohen Corasanti's Review (NO SPOILERS)

A collection of well crafted, beautifully written stories about the the kibbutzim and kibbutzniks. Essential Reading. In short, I regard this as one of the most important pieces of literature ever produced on the subject of the kibbutz movement.

Corasanti is the author of another very important book on the middle-east. It's called The Almond Tree. She has both a bachelor's and master's degree in Middle-East studies. Here's a link: The Almond Tree by Michelle Cohen Corasanti

CHECK IT OUT

Middle East Monitor's Review Of The Almond Tree by Michelle Cohen Corasanti

The Almond Tree

Tuesday, 13 November 2012 19:20

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Author: Michelle Cohen CorasantiPaperback: 352 pagesPublisher: Garnet Publishing LtdLanguage: EnglishISBN: 10: 1859643299

Review by Ramona Wadi

The frailty of hope and the power of resistance weave an intricate story of contrasts. When the country in question is Palestine, hope and resistance merge and deviate as Israel's illegal occupation continues to fragment reality. In The Almond Tree, Michelle Cohen Corasanti explores the tribulations of a Palestinian family against a historical background of Israeli oppression and Palestinian resistance.

Ichmad, a gifted child living in the Occupied Palestinian territories, observes his family's suffering and insecurities - the possibility of home demolitions by the Israelis and the subsequent displacement haunts the entire village. On his twelfth birthday, Ichmad's father is brutally beaten by Israeli soldiers in his family's presence and falsely accused of being a terrorist. The family's house is burned, on the pretext that 'terrorists don't deserve houses'. Displaced and forced to live in a tent, whilst trying to discover where his father is being detained, Ichmad and his brother, Abbas, leave school out of the necessity to support the family. However, Ichmad resumes studying upon returning home from work each day, going on to win a scholarship in a prestigious Israeli university.

Corasanti skilfully portrays a family in imminent danger of being fragmented. The deaths of two siblings, Amal and Sara, serve to depict the disparity in temperament and understanding of the illegal occupation between Ichmad and Abbas. Ichmad's giftedness and responsibility towards his family bring him into direct contact with Israelis, through which he successfully manoeuvres himself by constantly keeping in mind his father's advice - to understand other perspectives and to face challenges and transform them into opportunities.

Abbas pursues the strategy of resistance. Pushed off some scaffolding by an Israeli Iraqi who harboured an intense hatred for Palestinians after his son was killed, Abbas is unable to work which further defines his mistrust of Israelis. For Abbas, survival is equivalent to resistance using force. Unlike Ichmad, whose initial sense of responsibility is limited to providing for his family's wellbeing, Abbas is concerned about all ramifications of the illegal occupation. Upon learning that Ichmad planned to marry a Jew, Abbas leaves the family home, joining Palestinian freedom fighters and eventually becoming a member of Hamas.

Through the experiences of the two brothers, Corasanti delves into the injustices faced by Palestinians in the Occupied Palestinian Territories and Gaza, as well as the precarious lives of activists who dare to protest against Israeli aggression. Ichmad's first wife, Nora, is murdered by an Israeli soldier whilst peacefully protesting the demolition of Ichmad's family's home. Prior to her death, she comments about the appropriation of Palestinian land, noting that Israeli settlements were smothering Palestinian villages, depriving villagers of their livelihood and safe travel. Ichmad's reaction to Nora's activism is to dissuade her, encouraging her instead to use her law degree and raise awareness from the safety of the US. Ichmad's awareness of Palestinians' suffering as a collective goes through phases. In his childhood, he is angered at injustices and soothed by his father. Once his career is established, his work alongside Israeli colleagues distances him from the people's plight, although his loyalty towards the family is unwavering. Towards the end of the novel, Abbas forces Ichmad to behold and acknowledge the indignities and abuse inflicted upon Palestinians. Once faced with the reality of mangled bodies, murdered children and the effects of white phosphorus, Ichmad acknowledges his brother's heightened perception of human rights abuses and comes to terms with his affiliation to Hamas.

In the Occupied Palestinian Territories, Ichmad receives the news that together with his Israeli colleague, Menachem, he has been nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize. Following his nephew's decision to become a martyr for the Palestinian cause, Ichmad blames himself for enlightening Khaled about opportunities to escape Gaza and pursue an education abroad, given that his father, Abbas, is affiliated with Hamas and therefore his travel is restricted. In the course of his speech at the prize giving ceremony, Ichmad acknowledges his mistake of misinterpreting and attributing privileges to education. "Where I once dreamed of manipulating atoms, I now dream of a world in which we rise above race and religion and all the other dividing factors and find a higher purpose."

Whilst the novel is replete with references to hope, it is difficult to conjure a concrete image of the rhetoric whilst abuses in Gaza and the Occupied Palestinian Territories are consolidated each year. Although the awarding of the Nobel Peace Prize to an Israeli and a Palestinian who pledge to provide educational opportunities for Palestinian children befits the conclusion of The Almond Tree, the award is of individual prestige, as Ichmad explains to his father. Secondly, education for Palestinians is far from being considered a right. Israelis have deprived Palestinians of fundamental freedoms, including the right to education, for decades. The yearning for education has been compromised by Israeli aggression towards students. When faced with an illegal occupation that indulges in an extermination of a population, hope faces a formidable opponent.

Menachem argues that "Cooperation between Palestinians and Israelis offers the only real hope for peace." However, the fact that the occupation itself is illegal fails to materialise in the context. A strategy based on hope, however active, seems to distance itself from decades of repression and atrocities. A cooperation which fails to address the root of the problem might be destined to fail, with the dominant group's political power basically remaining unchallenged. The Palestinian problem is far more entrenched than an illegal occupation - it is an illegal occupation which has gained the support of imperialism and many governments around the world participate in the destruction of the Palestinian population by relying on the rhetoric of hope and condemnations which are never enforced.

That said, the novel is beautifully written and exhibits an inherent knowledge of life in the Occupied Palestinian Territories and Gaza. Corasanti's elaboration of history and fiction has created a touching narration which ensnares the reader from the first chapter. The constant manipulation of opposites - violence versus peace, the concepts of trust and betrayal, dialogue and reticence, brought profound significance to the book; a reality which evokes a multitude of reactions against human rights violations and the legitimacy of each reaction questioned, addressed and acknowledged.

Therein lingers the metaphor of hope in the novel.

- See more at: http://www.middleeastmonitor.com/media-review/book-review/4620-the-almond-tree#sthash.vdgAsfWh.dpuf

Mondoweiss Article on The Almond Tree

Oslo’s order: the Arab needs the Jew to get ahead in the world

by Hatim Kanaaneh on July 14, 2013 2

A review of The Almond Tree, by Michelle Cohen Corasanti, Garnet Publishing, 2012.

The Almond tree, cover image

Achmid, the name of the narrator and main protagonist of Ms. Cohen’s debut novel, “The Almond Tree,” turned me off so badly that at first I was tempted to drop the miserable fake altogether. Didn’t the woman know that such rendition of one of the prophet’s names is offensive to Arabic speakers? Only now, after devouring the spellbinding account of the dramatic life of the Palestinian prodigy with the insulting misnomer from his dirt-poor village beginnings to the halls of the Swedish Academy of Science, do I really appreciate the cunning choice of the name. What better statement could the author have made about the mixed-up identity and muddled self-conception of the average Palestinian Arab citizen of Israel? Truly, the Ashkenazi cultural hegemony in Israel had taken hold of us all. We speak the Ashkenazi dialect of Hebrew even when conversing in Arabic with each other, we eat the Ashkenazi sheminit instead of labane for breakfast in our arabesque-tiled kitchens, and we hang Hebrew billboards at the entrance to our businesses catering to our 100% Arab clientele. There are no ‘Ahmads’ left among us. ‘Achmid’ gives a taste of the colonization of our indigenous culture, the appropriation of our falafel, hummus and tabbouleh as items of Israeli cuisine, and the violent mangling of our psyche.

But the novel is not another artful attempt at whitewashing Israel and singing the praises of its civilizing influence on its Palestinian citizens. On the contrary, it presents in full force and gory detail Israel’s violent suppression and merciless punishment of the Palestinians’ attempts at resisting its land theft and iron-fist practices of its military. Trigger-happy Israeli soldiers kill Palestinian children just as they continue to do daily in the West Bank and Gaza, and bulldozer operators and their commanders raze Palestinian homes crushing American activist protestors in a detailed and faithful recreation of the mechanized assassination of Rachel Corrie. If any figure shines in the narrative, it is Achmid’s father, a pillar of wisdom, kindness, sacrifice and understanding and an accomplished painter and traditional musician committed to nonviolence and reconciliation. A near perfect negative mirror image is Achmid’s boss and scientific guardian. He is bigoted and full of hate and accepts Achmid as his student against his will. Achmid’s wrongly jailed father’s image never leaves his mind. His constant wise admonition to his obedient son together with the family’s extreme poverty pacifies the young man’s every step of the way. His submissiveness and mathematical genius force the holocaust-scarred professor to put up with him. The compromise eventually succeeds in tethering the two scientists for life, a camaraderie that costs both dearly in terms of their respective family relationships.

Ms. Cohen does a good job of stringing a series of violent atrocities into a near believable sequence of events that shape the life of Achmid and his family. Along with this, she manages to visit traditional Palestinian customs and lore, with an occasional slip-up such as depicting them living on a steady diet of rice when in fact wheat is the Palestinian staple. But this is more than balanced by her lively and colorful portrayal of their daily life, take her description of the traditional wedding ceremony and the Dabkeh, the Palestinian group dance, for example. This incongruity and fluctuating fidelity in reporting the horrendous life experiences and many losses of the family at the core of the powerful narrative colors it with a hue of unreality though it hardly affects its truthfulness. Throughout the entire saga, the Palestinian is the underdog, the defeated and powerless sufferer left to survive by his wits and the kindness and care of his next of kin. The Jew, whether Israeli or American, is his occasional but obligatory benefactor, be it in obtaining a permit for him to build a house or to travel or securing him a post-doctorate position at MIT. The latter stipulation is an accurate account of the real experience of every Palestinian scientist in Israel that I know. This patronizing gesture, often processed through the collegial close contact with a fellow scientist at an American research institute, reflects the unequal relationship between the needy Palestinian and his magnanimous Jewish boss regardless how their relative scientific abilities compare. The fact that the deal is often sealed between two scientists who happen to be Jewish adds a further rub to the ethnically nuanced benevolent gesture. Overall, “The Almond Tree” conforms to this stratified ordering of the parties’ relative outreach and power: The Arab always needs the input of the Jew to get ahead in the world, a basic premise of Shimon Peres’s Oslo era dream of the New Middle East.

I may have stretched my feeling of awkwardness regarding the role of Achmid’s professor and enabler a bit too far. Still, reading the novel did leave me wishing Ms. Cohen had invented a more equal relationship despite the contrary reality. Even more thought provoking was imagining reading the novel wearing the hat of an Israeli Jew: After dismissing the initial urge to call the author anti-Semitic and a self-hating Jew, more out of blind habit than out of conviction, I found myself kneeling to the ground under the weighty burden I needed to shoulder in seeking true peace and reconciliation with the Palestinians, starting with those sharing Israel’s citizenship with me since day one, those on whom the author purports to shine the international spotlight.

Having sung the praise of this powerful and timely novel, I am still at a loss as to how to convey my gut-level revulsion at the choice of name for its hero, clever and meaningful as it truly is. For the Arabic-speaking reader and the student of Arabic culture, I have just discovered a convincing illustration of what I mean:: Go to the link and see how the IDF greets its Moslem soldiers and tell me how your stomach feels?

Others just have to believe me: “Achmid” stinks. Yet he is a true reflection of our reality. And who am I to complain? The hero of my forthcoming novel lives for two decades with the name “Eli” instead of the Arabic “Ali” for the sake of convenience and to keep peace in his mixed family.

Best Literary Fiction Set in The Middle East.

The Almond Tree by Michelle Cohen Corasanti

July 9, 2013

Filled under Literary Fiction

2 Comments

Gifted with a mind that continues to impress the elders in his village, Ichmad Hamid struggles with the knowledge that he can do nothing to save his friends and family. Living on occupied land, his entire village operates in constant fear of losing their homes, jobs, and belongings. But more importantly, they fear losing each other. Take a look at today’s featured book, The Almond Tree by Michelle Cohen Corasanti. It has a whopping 4.7 star rating with 127 reviews.

On Ichmad’s twelfth birthday, that fear becomes reality.

With his father imprisoned, his family’s home and possessions confiscated, and his siblings quickly succumbing to hatred in the face of conflict, Ichmad begins an inspiring journey using his intellect to save his poor and dying family. In doing so he reclaims a love for others that was lost through a childhood rife with violence, and discovers a new hope for the future.

Author Michelle Cohen Corasanti has a BA from Hebrew University in Jerusalem and a MA from Harvard University, both in Middle Eastern Studies. She also holds a law degree. A Jewish American, she has lived in France, Spain, Egypt and England, and spent seven years living in Israel. She currently lives in New York with her family. The Almond Tree is her first novel.

What a Reader has to say about The Almond Tree…”…beautifully written and exhibits an inherent knowledge of life in the Occupied Palestinian Territories and Gaza. Corasanti’s elaboration of history and fiction has created a touching narration which ensnares the reader from the first chapter.”  Middle East Monitor

Pamela Olson's Review of Michelle Cohen Corasanti's The Almond Tree

‘The Almond Tree,’ a gateway book for westerners learning the Palestinian story

by Pamela Olson on July 1, 2013 4

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The Almond tree, cover image

A review of The Almond Tree, by Michelle Cohen Corasanti.

I’ll admit, I started reading this novel with a bit of trepidation. A Jewish-American woman writing a historical novel from the perspective of a young Palestinian man requires serious chutzpah, and the fact that she named the main character Ichmad (a Hebrew-sounding transliteration of Ahmed) made me wary.

But thankfully, what I found was an engaging novel with an impressive degree of empathy and authenticity. It reads like a combination of Mornings in Jenin and The Kite Runner. As such, it has the potential to reach broad audiences with a powerful message of Palestinian humanity that’s sadly missing from the popular consciousness. (And the choice to use ‘Ichmad’ actually comes from the author’s interpretation of a rural Palestinian accent, which later serves to distinguish him from a city-boy roommate.)

The story begins with an idyllic/tragic scene that sets the tone for the rest of the novel: a young girl, Ichmad’s sister, goes out chasing butterflies, not understanding that the field nearby is studded with Israeli landmines. Her family rushes out to try to save her, but they are too late. They watch her mischievous smile evaporate before their eyes.

In an earlier version, the book began with a scene of Ichmad helping another man hide weapons for the Palestinian resistance. But the author realized this would make no sense without explaining what had come before. By opening the book with Ichmad’s loss of innocence, the events that follow become more understandable.

According to interviews with the author (who spent seven years in Israel and was horrified as she began learning the truth about the Palestinian situation), the seed for the idea of the book began with a friend she met at Harvard, a Palestinian with an Israeli PhD advisor whose father spent many years in prison. Despite the harshness of his childhood (he was forced early into being the breadwinner because of his father’s imprisonment), he showed an aptitude for math and science that allowed him to attend Israeli and later American universities. Ichmad’s life follows this basic narrative, though it’s set a couple of decades earlier.

She acknowledges this is a rare occurrence, and the question of how Ichmad’s success causes him to become out of touch with his fellow Palestinians is sensitively addressed. The book does not take a fantasist approach that the conflict will be easy to solve if we can just hold hands and sing kumbaya. Still, it shows what’s possible when love of science (or humanity, music, or anything else) transcends love of your own particular ethnically-based privilege. Minds can open, and old wounds can begin to heal. (One is invited to imagine how much more so once some measure of justice is finally done.)

Israelis are not demonized in the book, and this is critical both because it rings authentic (Israelis, after all, are not demons but human beings in a particular human context) and because it allows the possibility of reaching genuinely broad audiences, including Jewish Israelis and Jewish and Christian Zionists.

It may be sad and unfortunate, but it’s true: Often it takes a white/Christian/Jewish or otherwise privileged writer to reach a privileged audience that is otherwise quite fine with the status quo. Palestinian voices tell beautiful and evocative stories. But they often allude to historical events, cultural touchstones, and political realities that are meaningless to the average American.

Like Uncle Tom’s Cabin or Cry, the Beloved Country, The Almond Tree is a kind of “hybrid” or “gateway” book that tells a Palestinian story but with Western sensibilities in mind. None of these books is perfect, nor can they ever be perfectly authentic. But they can hopefully do their job—both to educate ignorant societies about otherwise very foreign subjects, and to inspire them to read and understand accounts by the victims of oppression themselves.

The human mind is, after all, wired to respond more to narratives than to facts, and there must be something in a narrative that we can grasp onto in order to be able to integrate it into our own view of the world.

Nearly all the facts have been on “our” side (the side of justice and peace for all) for decades. It’s about time the narrative became so as well—that the Palestinians had for themselves something akin to the novel Exodus (though not as mendacious) that could capture the imagination of middle Americans.

The book is epic in scope, beginning shortly after 1948 when Ichmad’s Palestinian family finds themselves becoming “Arab-Israelis” with no rights to their own land, and continuing almost to the present day.

I do wish it included a map that showed where the family’s village, its confiscated land, and the nearby Israeli towns and moshavs were located, and maybe a small author’s note explaining what it meant to become an “Arab-Israeli” under strict military rule up until 1966. I feel it would situate the reader in space and political context better. But the basic human realities shine through.

There is no shortage of tragedies along the way, and readers with weak stomachs may have to put the book down occasionally before continuing on. But there are also moments of pure joy and humor and beauty, of taking stock and realizing that despite what has been lost, so much does still exist, with so much potential.

As the book says: “You cannot go back and make a new start, but you can start now and make a new ending.”

You can learn more about the book on its website and Amazon page.