Some sixty-five years after 750,000 Palestinians fled or were expelled from their homeland, the popular conception of Palestinian refugees still emphasizes their fierce commitment to exercising their "right of return." Exile has come to seem a kind of historical amber, preserving refugees in a way of life that ended abruptly with "the catastrophe" of 1948 and their camps—inhabited now for four generations—as mere zones of waiting. While reducing refugees to symbols of steadfast single-mindedness has been politically expedient to both sides of the Arab-Israeli conflict it comes at a tremendous cost for refugees themselves, overlooking their individual memories and aspirations and obscuring their collective culture in exile.
Refugees of the Revolution is an evocative and provocative examination of everyday life in Shatila, a refugee camp in Beirut. Challenging common assumptions about Palestinian identity and nationalist politics, Diana Allan provides an immersive account of camp experience, of communal and economic life as well as inner lives, tracking how residents relate across generations, cope with poverty and marginalization, and plan––pragmatically and speculatively—for the future. She gives unprecedented attention to credit associations, debt relations, electricity bartering, emigration networks, and NGO provisions, arguing that a distinct Palestinian identity is being forged in the crucible of local pressures.
What would it mean for the generations born in exile to return to a place they never left? Allan addresses this question by rethinking the relationship between home and homeland. In so doing, she reveals how refugees are themselves pushing back against identities rooted in a purely nationalist discourse. This groundbreaking book offers a richly nuanced account of Palestinian exile, and presents new possibilities for the future of the community.
I read this book after returning from Lebanon, where I met visited the Shatila refugee camp and met several of its residents. I plan to return in November, and will live in Shatila for two weeks. Thus, this book filled an important niche for me. There are many books that offer an overview of Lebanon, and some that focus on the Palestinians there, but this is the only one I have found that looks in personal depth at the dynamics of camp life from social, political and economic points of view. My only complaint is that the author periodically lapses into incredibly dense "academia-speak," and I had to simple "glide" over those sections with a roll of the eyes. The most valuable takeaway, for me, was to be careful not to impose my views as an activist, and to be open to the pragmatic realities of refugees who were born outside of Palestine and thus have ties to Lebanon at least as strong as to their ancestors' homeland.
This is an ethnography of the Shatila refugee camp in Lebanon, where the right of return of Palestinians is used by the Lebanese government to justify not providing necessities, as this would oppose that their stay is ‘temporary’.
I understand and appreciate what this book is doing (showcasing daily life in the camp and the complex political realities). I think it’s important and I’m happy I read it but my god this was maybe the driest writing I’ve read in my MA so far. I just hate when academics write in ways that are so dense, I think that it makes their books inaccessible too.