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Najat Abdel Hadi

(AD 03-05 )

 "If I was able to overcome my racism, you should be too"

I was born in the West Bank city of Nablus on April 30, 1986; the first born child to my parents, Fawaz and May. As I was growing up, nothing around me seemed out of the ordinary or even remotely remarkable. Sound of bullets, kids discussing politics, destroyed buildings, masked men in funerals, checkpoints, a disproportionate number of handicapped youth, and the fact that we had to be home every night before the 6 o'clock curfew- all these were facts of a life that was, to me, completely normal. I did not know any better. Looking back at those days, I feel quite positive that I had a perfectly happy childhood. Regardless of what the reality was, I held a perception of safety and normality. Today, I am comforted by that thought-children, wherever they are, look and look and look around them until they find the small joys of life. They are, I think you'd agree, truly blessed.
Except that I don't think that this blessing endures. Aside from the heavy reality of war that eventually dawns on you, living on one side of any conflict envelopes you with one version of the truth that, I now realize, suffocates you. It prevents you from questioning the overwhelming nationalist sentiment that labels everything as either "black" or "white". The popular culture, in other words, gives those children no choice- it bombards them with messages of hate and distrust that would stay with them and shape their future ideas and decisions.
At 17, I was what I would call now an unrealistic, right-wing, extremist. I wholeheartedly believed that I was on the righteous, infallible "team" and that -sooner or later- truth and justice would prevail exclusively to my team's benefit. I certainly never thought of questioning my beliefs; let alone what "they" think or want. In April of the same year, 2003, the Israeli army invaded my city and we were under curfew for more than two months. Also in the same year, I was accepted into high school in Italy. The United World College of the Adriatic, one of 10 in the world, is a scholarship-based international Baccalaureate school that brings students from over 80 countries. Each year, a scholarship is awarded to one Palestinian and one Israeli.
And so by September, I went from a war-torn region - which was particularly volatile at the time -to a beautiful college campus on the cliffs of the Adriatic Sea in North East Italy, in a little village called Duino. As peaceful as can be. The huge transformation shook me. I was ecstatic and devastated at the same time. So this is life! I wished I could bring my family; especially my younger brother who, I was sure, would get himself lost in the tiny village and would drive my dad into bankruptcy in its gelateria.
There were three Israeli students at my school. I observed them from a distance initially, and they did the same. I didn't know what to think. I was shocked at seeing people my age who are from the other side. They dressed in normal clothes and looked like me.
One of them, Netta, actually looked like me. I've never met Israeli civilians before. To me, Israelis were cruel soldiers on a checkpoint. But these three, just like me, were uniform-less teenagers who had acne and wore grey jeans--a trend at the time.
We eventually had to sit down just the five of us, three Israelis and two Palestinians, to organize an information session on the conflict. I will never forget the first meeting. We were all clearly nervous, cold, and very careful in choosing our words. Although we didn't reach the point of making jokes then, by the fourth and last meeting prior to the session we were comfortable around each other. They stopped being "them". They became Netta, Dror, and Yael. They became people. They had dreams, hobbies, and a sense of humour. More importantly, they had different political views. If the Israeli society was a politically and socially homogenous group who wanted to exterminate us, these three were certainly an exception- or so I thought.
By the end of my second and last year at UWC, I was good friends with Yael, who was an exceptionally good dancer. Yael and I formed a duo- she danced and I sang. We performed together at many college events. It does not take a genius to conclude that my experience at UWC changed me. But I was too young and immature to realize the reality of what was happening- that experience would eventually widen my understanding of the conflict at home in many ways.
One year later, my family immigrated to Canada. I won't bore you with the details of a classical immigrant story- the parents could not find good jobs and had to go back to be able to support us. But what their decision meant is that I had to apply to Canadian universities only. I could not stay in Italy- a place that I grew to love. I joined the multifaceted and inspiring Peace and Conflict Studies program at the University of Toronto. By then, I knew I wanted to pursue a career in journalism.
The best adjective I can think of to describe my first couple of years in Toronto is "confused". I had already undergone what I now consider a life-changing experience, but I was not aware of that fact. I didn't know what to make of my two hugely different past experiences. I still felt the urge to defend the Palestinian cause whenever my ears detected one of many, many Middle East debates on campus. But I was torn, I wanted to raise awareness about the misunderstood conflict but without bashing and completely delegitimizing the "Other"- something, I eventually learned, was almost impossible in these conversations. I became increasingly disillusioned with the deeply polarized yelling matches and distanced myself from all such debates. Ironically, almost everyone who claimed to represent and defend me, the Palestinian, in these debates was not Palestinian.
In short, there was no space for rational and constructive debate.
My passion about the conflict and my people has never died down. But I was reading and writing privately; away from the ridiculous and useless public slandering. I became convinced that building channels of dialogue between real people on both sides is the only way to achieve stable peace. It is the only way to humanize the Arab or the Israeli "terrorist". If that method changed me, it would change anybody.
I do not claim to have a brilliant conflict resolution theory. But I do know that we have to include all factions on both sides in the negotiations- otherwise all peace efforts are futile. And yes, that is doable. I have faith in our common humanity and rationality.
Sometimes you have to work hard to find it in some people, but it's there. I do also know that both our versions of the truth do not matter whatsoever. I still hold many of the principles that Palestinians share, I want justice for my people, but I do not want to deprive others from it. Yael, my UWC friend, was born and raised in Israel. It's her home now. Each of us has a view on who is right and who is wrong; on whether it is occupation or terrorism. But it doesn't matter. If you want to live in peace and safety, you have to open your eyes, acknowledge the Other's right of existence, be pragmatic, and reach a compromise. Neither people are going to disappear. Bless your children with the truth.
Stop deceiving them.
Palestinians are not mindless barbarians who just want to kill. We are fighting for a cause. We believe it is a struggle for independence. If we were granted our sovereignty rights and we signed on a document that said so, the violence on our part will stop. It is as simple as that. Similarly, the Jews are not conspiring towards ethnic genocide. They are a diverse and humane group of people. Both populations want to lead normal peaceful lives. Israeli and Palestinian families want to have a barbeque lunch on the weekend. Israeli and Palestinian youth want to have successful careers. Israeli and Palestinian children want to play.
If I was able to overcome my racism, you should be too. Needless to say, I'm very grateful and proud to be part of Yalla. We probably won't alter the course of history in the Middle East, but I believe it is a step in the right direction. May all the children of Israel and Palestine grow up in peaceful times.