I often pondered as to why the name Holy
Land was given to Palestine?
What is it about this land that justifies or
legitimizes such a description when
in fact that land, through myriad of foreign
invasions has witnessed some
of the cruelest, most barbaric, most unholy,
most immoral human behaviour?
My latest visit to my Home-Land Palestine
was a heartrending experience
with shocking reality; a roller-coaster,
a volcano of paradoxical emotions,
an extraordinary visual and sensual intensive course, with daily,
if not hourly, spiritual lessons.
While the visit itself did not last more than ten days, I however travelled
through time, standing on the terrace of my grandparents, I saw what was,
what is and what could be.
As I stood on that old terrace of my grandfather’s house in Beit Iksa,
facing the remains of the village of Lifta on one side and the construction
of the Jewish colony Givat Shaul with its hideous buildings and
weery cemetery on the other, what I saw was indescribable: a vivid screen
shot of two extremes of human existence and endeavour, a visual
manifestation of a bizarre reality of two paradoxical worlds narrating
the tragedy of what had happened and is still happening to Palestine
and the world:
In the horizon, there before my eyes, written the truth in plain
With poignant Lifta on my left I saw the past: organic, natural, native,
rooted, sustainable, gentle, green, alive, flowing, timeless, tender,
harmonious, modest, and exquisitely beautiful.
With Givat Shaul on my right I saw the present, violently constructed
on the ruins of massacred Deir Yassin by the Jewish-Zionist occupiers;
artificial, implanted, pompous, forced, disconnected, rootless, harsh,
malignant, cancerous, dead, offensive, aggressive, predatory, foreign,
ruthless, and hideous beyond words.
On the terrace of my grandfather’s I saw a Civilization that lived by
fostering life VS a Devilization that can only exist by destroying life.
On the terrace of my grandfather I saw a culture of Life being
momentarily oppressed by a culture of Death.
On the terrace of my grandfather I understood that for us
Palestinians if we are to make it into the future, all we need to
do is to vehemently reject the poisonous glitter of the occupiers
with all its multifaceted deception: where slavery is sugar-coated
with slogans as “modern banking systems”, “global trade”,
“free loans”, “buy now pay later” and “economical growth”.
On the terrace of my grandfather I understood that whatever we
do we must vehemently oppose any attempt that aims to lure us to
“learn” from or mimic the occupier in any shape or form:
Not in the way they run their society, where the selfish concept of
“I” and “my interest” are promoted and admired while the foundation
of civil human interaction and the altruistic concepts of “we” and the
“communal interest” are frowned upon, despised and discouraged
as irrelevant backwardness;
Not in the way they conduct business by the use of usury enriching
the rich few and impoverishing the masses of poor;
Not in the way they use aggressive agriculture, under the veil of
“increasing productivity” they kill the land with chemicals and
over-irrigation and destroy the future with GMO sterile seedless
uncontrollable crops, they farm animals in most cruel conditions.
Under the veil of modernity they inject seeds of death and
un-sustainability, bleeding the land dry of its richness and
Not in the way they model their pyramidic hierarchical systems
of which millions who languish at the bottom are crushed by a
handful who climb to the top.
Not in the way they build colonies brutally carving out the heart
of our beautiful landscape, savagely slicing through our precious
hills and butchering our millennia-old meadows and mountains
only to replace it with prison boxes and creepy tombstones.
On the terrace of my grandfather I saw that a culture of death by its
very nature is not sustainable, and cannot possibly survive
let alone give birth to life.
On the terrace of my grandfather I saw the manifestation of an
exemplary, sustainable, organic, cohesive, open and hospitable
civilization, a World Heritage that learned how to peacefully and
lovingly coexist and thrive with its neighbours, surroundings
On the terrace of my grandfather, I understood why and how
a land can become Holy and where did the sanctity of this
cherished Land emerged.
On the terrace of my grandfather I saw the hands of thousands
upon thousands of men women and children tenderly attending
the land, lovingly removing the stones from its farms
and pathways, where in return I saw the stones write poetry
of love and thankfulness with its poppies, daisies and bluebells.
On the terrace of my grandfather, I saw the attentive hearts of
my people singing melodies of affection and adoration as they
tenderly depicted their poetic verses in sublime harmony with
their environment. Their little hand-picked stones thoughtfully
arranged, perfectly in tune with the landscape around.
Sensitively, compassionately and to the best of human
endeavour, mimicking in fine details the Divine-artwork,
without causing injury or harm to whatever lays in the way.
Out of stones, rocks, flowers and trees they have created
a timeless panorama of breathtaking beauty.
On the terrace of my grandfather, I saw the hands of generations
of my ancestors patiently caressing its sleepy hills and
artistically painting the landscape with the brush of pure
love, swathing it with Holiness and Sacredness, preserving
its Divine-given authenticity and protecting life that dwells on it.
On the terrace of my grandfather I saw breathing homes with
flowery grassy roofs, I saw homes with eyes, homes with hearts,
homes that smile and weep, homes that rejoice meeting her
loved ones and mourns those whom she lost.
On the terrace of my grandfather I saw homes that welcome
its dwellers with hugs and kisses and puts its children to sleep
by tales of love, magical bedtime stories and
singing prophetic lullabies.
On the terrace of my grandfather, I finally understood the
meaning of the name Holy Land, Blessed Land, Sacred Land
and why that name was bestowed on our Palestine.
On the terrace of my grandfather, I saw Love of Life,
Love of Land and Love of Humanity beautifully and supremely
intertwined with spirituality, religiously protecting all what is
around, thus creating a Holy Land, with excruciating beauty and
dazzling glory, a Sacred Landscape, a Majestic Prayer and a
Soul-Capturing Sanctuary with infinite charm and mesmerizing grace.
On the terrace of my grandfather, I saw how is it possible
for humanity to be saved, to survive and thrive by saving and
following the example of Palestine.
On the terrace of my grandfather I understood that the day
of their demise is a stone throw away and the day of our
Liberation is not far anymore.
On the terrace of my grandfather I realised that stopping
and reversing the destruction of this land, and its inevitable
Full Liberation, is not only necessary and urgent from the
standpoint of Justice. Palestine is far more.
Palestine and its ominously peaceful and sustainable model
is NOT a mere nostalgic ideal, but the most perfect source of
inspiration and blueprint to design a futuristic, yet solidly
rooted and time tested society, in which human interaction,
environmental intervention, timeless architecture, agriculture,
ethical commercial exchange and spiritual quest are the peak
of human achievement. They are not incompatible with
contemporary technology and population growth, they are
the safeguards and KEY to a sustainable, peaceful
and brighter future.
Whether some like it or not, in order to rescue this Sacred
World Heritage, it will need a difficult surgery: the removal
of the invading death culture that has shown its colossal
failure to integrate the Land and its People.
Beauty and Humanity shall prevail.
I warmly invite the world along with my fellow Palestinians
to rediscover and embrace our Palestinian culture of Life
following the flowering footsteps of the Prophets of this
Holy Land, Palestine.
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