Twih's The Palestinian Exile Of 1948

The Palestinian exile of 1948 marks the beginning of an ongoing identity struggle of a population of displaced persons sans a homeland. The devastation brought about by the initial expulsion of the Palestinian people is compounded by near-constant armed warfare both within the territories and in refugee camps in nearby nations that house Palestinian refugees. These constant bombardments are a detriment to collective and individual Palestinian identity, which has in turn become defined to a large extent externally (and internally to some degree) by armed resistant to Zionist influence solely, leading to a deficit in traditional, more positive national identity. The diaspora Palestinian population additionally faces complex struggles with acceptance

amongst the larger “Arab” identity shared with inhabitants of neighboring nations, further compounding their struggle for a solidified identity and homeland. Populations from other nations face distinct, but similar struggles as their paths cross with the path of the Palestinians when these individuals all commonly seek refuge in nearby Arab countries.
In his novel Memory for Forgetfulness that explores a single day in August 1982 during the Israeli invasion of Lebanon and shelling of Beirut, famed Palestinian poet and prose writer Mahmoud Darwish resists the idea of identity-based conflict due to the cross-identity nature of alliances during the Lebanese invasion. Though consistently drawing attention to the “othering” of the Palestinian people by non-Palestinians (Lebanese, Christians, and Jews), Darwish’s primary vehicle for unifying people under shared experience is by forging a collective identity amongst all refugees regardless of place of origin or other differentiating factors. While certainly the bombardment of Beirut is an extension of the Palestinian narrative, Darwish focuses instead on the plight of refugees as a distinct group, undefined by individual national identity. This focus undermines the “Arab versus Jew” classification attached to any instances of Israeli warfare, and stands tribute to the reality that the brutalities of the Lebanese invasion were committed by and against individuals of varied identities and thus were a detriment to the progress of humanity and peace on a global scale. In the novel Memory for forgetfulness, Darwish resists the classification of the invasion of Lebanon as an identity-based conflict by drawing attention to the plurality of suffering across identity lines and by forging a collective refugee identity amongst individuals united by warfare, while conscientiously making clear the disunity and lack of acceptance amongst Arabs in which Palestinians remain outsiders regardless of shared experience and struggle.
There exists a dichotomy between the refugee’s forging of a new identity that corresponds with their new home in Lebanon and the ever-present longing that exists for refugees towards their own homeland in which they did not exist as the “other”. While Darwish feels connected to his new home in Lebanon to the point of willingly fighting alongside his native Lebanese peers, he is confronted by individuals who attempt to isolate refugees like himself from the Lebanese collective identity. In a conversation with a friend’s wife of Christian background, Darwish recalls the women asking why he and his people will not leave Lebanon and return back to their place of origin. The narrator answers, explaining to the wife that they are unable to return to their homelands but have chosen to fight alongside the Lebanese, prompting the wife to inquire, “Why don’t you stay in the Arab countries and fight from there?” to which he says, “They said to us what you’re saying now. They kicked us out. And here we are, fighting along with the Lebanese in defense of Beirut and our very existence” (40). The narrator, despite his refugee status, feels that in times of war, all victims must form an insulated community of resistance regardless of national identity. This sentiment is not shared by this women, to whom believes the refugee population does not have a place within the collective identity of those who are suffering. This conversation is symbolic of the conflicting views of the narrator who believes in the necessity of a collective resistance that is blind to identity differences and the view of a portion of those within Lebanon who continue to discriminate against other members of the resistance despite shared suffering.
The inclusion of this woman in the narrative additionally serves the function of creating a sameness amongst victims. Despite the plethora of different identities (be they religious or national) human suffering in war is universal. This women is of Christian background, her husband is a secular Lebanese man, and the narrator is a Muslim male, and yet all three are having this conversation while the very question of their existence is at stake with the relentless bombings outside. This woman’s husband mirrors this theme in his attempt to persuade his wife, described by the narrator as, “In vain does her husband, whose past is secular, try to convince her that the Israelis don’t love Lebanon and aren’t there to defend it, and that just one rocket from their jets can turn all of us sitting in this apartment, Muslim and Maronite alike, into ground meat” (39). Darwish is acutely aware of futility of minimizing the conflict to one that is based on identity alone, as he understands that the drones in the sky blindly destroy and murder, regardless of identity. Darwish, as a manifestation of the greater refugee population, is able to see beyond ethnic, national, religious identity differences and serves as an advocate for unity amongst victims, regardless of individual background.
Beirut itself is attributed a deeper symbolic meaning as the meeting place of refugees from destinations worldwide who are united by a search for a land to call their own.

It is not the city of Beirut specifically that holds the greater meaning for these individuals, but instead the concept of a temporary home in the face of exile. While these refugees hold ties to their native countries, they have come together under the umbrella of a foreign land and form a newly established union. Darwish finds comfort and asserts this idea of a cohesive refugee population that is established when people are expelled from their homelands and desperately seek acceptance in a new location. The narrator explains, “I don’t know Beirut, and I don’t know if I love or don’t love it. For the political refugee, there is a chair that can’t be changed or replaced” (92). Darwish interchangeably uses the pronoun “I” and the vague “the political refugee”, thus integrating himself with this larger population of refugees. This refugee population is ambivalent about Beirut itself, as they still maintain ties to their home countries and where they move is merely a temporary refuge. Despite this, the necessity of rooting oneself geographically after exile and the difficulties that accompany this process are principle concerns for all refugees alike, regardless of identity, which creates a shared struggle and story amongst this collective

group.
The transient nature of Darwish’s journey and the complications that accompany it are representative of the difficulties of the refugee lifestyle. The ongoing struggle of the refugee collective is further illustrated by the narrator who explains, “Here the number of aliens increased, and refugee camps got bigger. A war went by, then two, three, and four…They brought their identity back into being, re-created the homeland, and followed their path, only to have it blocked by the guardians of civil wars. They defended their steps, by then path parted from path, the orphan lived in the skin of the orphan, and one refugee camp went into another” (89). Here again, the narrator makes blanket statements about refugees, thus generalizing the plight of refugees as common and not determined by individual identification. The struggles of the refugees go beyond surface survival from warfare but instead this group must endure a lifetime fight for acceptance in rotating places they must learn to call home. To Darwish, “othering” people who are struggling through similar issues by classifying the conflict as identity-based is both detrimental and inaccurate.
The love connection and nature of the conversations between the narrator, a Muslim male, and a Jewish women further illustrates the author’s resistance against identity based hatred in times of conflict. These two individuals are assumed by the external world to automatically be enemies because of their identity differences alone in the context of this war, yet instead forge a relationship despite expectations. The absurdity of a modern day conflict with roots in biblical times is made apparent in a conversation between these two individuals in which the woman asks, “Do you love me?” to which Darwish responds, “No. I don’t love you. Did you know that your mother, Sarah, drove my mother, Hagar, into the desert” (124)? The woman continues, asking, “Am I to blame then? Is it for that you don’t love me?” to which Darwish rebuts, “No. You’re not to blame; and because of that I don’t love you. Or, I love you. My dear, my beautiful, my queen! It’s now five thirty in the morning, and I must get back to them” (124). As a western, secular reader, the concept of a biblical event that occurred so far in the remote past having any tangible effect on a modern day relationship seems outlandish. The enduring connection between these two individuals regardless of the reality that she is Jewish and he is Muslim negates the argument of equating the “other” with the enemy, which in turn makes it impossible to minimize the complexity of the conflict to simply identity driven. In a war that is defined by cross-identity violence (Jewish against Arab, Arab against Arab) and during which individuals from different backgrounds are able to form friendships and romantic connections despite external assumptions of the other being the enemy, identity differences become less important than baseline survival, comradery, and collective victimhood in the face of incomprehensible violence.
As Beirut burned with the influx of bombs and violence, so too did the prospect of a new homeland for people of all places of origin and their memories of their past. These refugees migrated to Lebanon to seek refuge, bringing with them their memories and ties to their national identity. As a marked attempt to refute the common idea of the invasion of Lebanon being entirely an identity driven conflict, Darwish asserts the idea that, with the impending possibility of death, when bombers are destroying everything familiar and the horrors of war become unimaginable, identity distinctions become irrelevant and a collective identity is forged regardless of place of origin. While armed conflict exists as the ultimate source of destruction, novel collective identity is able to be built out of necessity of survival that unifies populations of individuals of different origin. It is only with this recognized shared struggle that individuals can see past bias and discrimination and come together for a common goal: survival. Collective action breeds productive resistance and exists as a tool to combat a specific type of oppression which relies on the disunity of individuals stifled by internal identity discrimination.