Poetry, Conscience, and the Courage to Speak for Palestine
At the heart of all our catastrophes is a crisis of love. By Yahia Lababidi
Over the past year and a half, during a time of mounting anguish in Palestine, I have tried to use my modest platform to read poems of peace on my YouTube channel. These include the voices of Israeli, Jewish, Palestinian, Arab, and Muslim poets. My intention has been to affirm that no people hold a monopoly on truth and that, in our suffering and our longing, we belong to one another.
At the heart of all our catastrophes is a crisis of love: love of ourselves, love of one another as ourselves, and love of the Divine. The poetry I share makes a universal appeal to remind us of our shared humanity and call us back to our spiritual responsibilities. In this spirit, I was honored by the support of Jewish Voice for Labour, who introduced my book Palestine Wail to a sympathetic audience within the United Kingdom’s Jewish community. Their courage is a source of hope, as they stand in principled solidarity with the people of Palestine.
I hold to the belief that there are people of conscience everywhere. The only true borders are those of compassion. That is why I remain in contact with poets in both Palestine and Israel, some of whom teach my work in their classrooms. I also advocate for Palestinian voices that deserve a broader readership, such as Mohammed Abu Lebda, whose philosophical and spiritual poems I have long admired. His piece “To Be a Gazan” continues to resonate deeply.
I hesitate to dwell on personal hardships I’ve experienced as an artist and activist during this time, since the balance of light has outweighed the shadows. Alongside moments of censorship and fear, I have encountered abundant solidarity. Even so, it would be dishonest to overlook the quiet complicity of many cultural institutions. Some minds that are otherwise refined and humane have allowed themselves to be silenced or misled. I am especially troubled by how often Zionism is confused with Judaism and how entrenched the bias toward Israel remains in public discourse.
This partiality also appears in the literary world, where publishers are often governed by unexamined biases. For example, after six months of working closely with an editor I greatly respect, my book on Palestine was abruptly dropped by a once-enthusiastic U.S. publisher. They had become uneasy with my language. Words like “genocide” or “murder” were deemed too strong. I was told that such terms could be viewed as legal accusations and might damage the press’s reputation. They even expressed fear that some of their authors might walk away.
In a difficult two-hour conversation, I listened as the publisher explained their reluctance to stand behind my work. My editor, however, remained supportive throughout. At one point, he considered resigning from the press. In a private message, he wrote to me,
We proved to be a press unworthy of your prophetic and mystical gifts. I regret that and apologize, on behalf of my short-sighted colleagues, for it. We failed not only you, but the millions of vulnerable Palestinians who must daily face the brutality of a reckless military assault, aided by U.S. weapons and permitted by the cowardice of the current U.S. administration.
I moved on, heartbroken yet determined. With the encouragement of principled friends, including Jewish allies, I was fortunate to find a more courageous publisher. Firoze Manji, a lifelong Kenyan activist, opened the doors of Daraja Press in Canada and gave Palestine Wail the home it needed.
I’m proud to share that my book and the Palestinian cause it represents have since been embraced across languages and borders. It has been reviewed internationally, nominated for Pushcart Prizes, and translated into Arabic, French, Malayalam, Gaelic, Spanish, and Dutch by the poet laureate of the Netherlands, Babs Gons. Further, my poems for Palestine from this book have been read in literary festivals in the United Kingdom, Canada, Scotland, and Holland and at peaceful protests in the United States. They are used in classrooms and were included in the top ten of “Democracy in Exile’s Most Popular Articles of 2024.” Most encouraging of all, and as an indication of the extensive interest and support of the Palestinian people, as part of the annual global publishing event #ReadPalestineWeek, in just one week 3,351 e-copies of Palestine Wail were downloaded directly from my publisher, Daraja Press.
My hope is that readers of Wail will be moved to better imagine the lives, dignity, and quiet heroism of the Palestinian people. If that awakens compassion, then perhaps it will also inspire action. I trust that some will be emboldened to question the false narratives spread by compromised media and complacent politicians.
Since we are commanded to be our brother or sister’s keeper, we are all implicated in crimes against humanity. The great sin of genocide stains not only the hands of its executioners but also those who remain silent. Vastness of spirit is our only way out of the narrow-hearted mess we find ourselves in. When we dehumanize others and see them as separate from ourselves, we permit ourselves to behave in bestial ways.
There is no exchange rate for human lives. All lives are sacred and equal. As the holy Qur’an teaches: whoever takes a life, it is as if they killed all of humanity; and whoever saves a life, it is as if they saved all of humanity. Until we understand this, we will continue to fail one another. Until then, we must keep reading, writing, and raising our voices. However we can, wherever we are.
Yahia Lababidi, a writer of Palestinian background, is the author of twelve books, including Palestine Wail (Daraja Press, 2024). His work appears in AGNI, Liberties, Salmagundi, The New Statesman, Philosophy Now, Spirituality & Health, and DAWN. He writes at the intersection of literature, faith, and moral witness.