“Gaza has always been rebellious... stubborn, addictive. I’m her daughter, and I look like her.”
Born in Rafah, raised in Gaza, subjected both to Israeli bombs and to Islamist tyranny, and in the face of prison, death threats, abuse, misogyny, violence, and repression, Asmaa al-Ghoul has continued to speak her truth. She has continued to live and to love, to laugh and to protest. In this moving memoir of growing up Gaza with a hunger for freedom and a passionate attachment to the places she calls home, journalist, writer, and activist, al-Ghoul recounts her lifelong resistance to religious fanaticism, state sponsored violence, and all forms of repression and subjugation. Al-Ghoul has been called “too strong minded,” criticized for not covering her hair, derided for ignoring warnings and speaking out against injustice. Her pure, clarion voice is raised wholly in support of dialogue, peace, love, and honesty.
Nothing, it seems, can stop her.
Offering an intimate look into life, politics, and survival in Gaza in recent years, al-Ghoul’s A Rebel in Gaza offers readers a nuanced and singular perspective on the current conflict.
Visse due volte, Asmaa Alghoul, ma forse anche tre, o quattro, se si pensa alle minacce di morte, gli arresti, le botte che ha collezionato, e la realtà intorno a lei. Nessuna meraviglia se alla fine è emigrata è andata a vivere all’estero, nel sud della Francia. Lo ha fatto, dice, per i suoi due figli – avuti da due mariti diversi, divorziati entrambi – per non farli crescere in una terra senza un neppure una sola sala cinematografica, senza libri, senza musica. Asmaa Alghoul è una donna di quarantadue che non si piega e non si spezza, non rinuncia, non sceglie il silenzio, vuole vivere, ridere, e piangere, vuole amare, parlare e ascoltare. Tutte attività che nella Striscia di Gaza sono estremamente difficili, o forse proprio impossibili: da una parte Israele – c’è stato un tempo quando il rumore degli scarponi e le improvvise incursioni dei soldati israeliani a casa sua erano diventati routine quasi quotidiana – dall’altra Hamas, rigida oscurantista integralista retrograda violenta. E per Asmaa Alghoul la soluzione non può essere certo al Fatah. Per lei – e per quelli come lei, per noi – la soluzione è una soltanto: libertà.
Asmaa Alghoul non ha paura a ritrarsi guascona, spaccona, rompiscatole, tenace fino all’esasperazione. Sì, vero, forse non è sempre simpatico il ritratto che fa di se stessa. Ma è sempre umano più che umano. In fondo non inseguiva utopie, non cercava rivoluzioni, non voleva la luna nel pozzo: voleva, e sempre vuole, solo pace e libertà, cultura e tolleranza, educazione e rispetto. Il suo memoir, i suoi ricordi e aneddoti e racconti di e da una parte di mondo sempre al centro della cronaca – da mesi più che mai – sono pregnanti, teneri e disperati. E per me sono anche la fonte più attendibile, e informata, sono la voce di quella parte del mondo che così bene e a fondo non sono mai riuscito a conoscere. E non saprei dove altro si possa trovare una testimonianza altrettanto centrale e nevralgica.
Asmaa Alghoul racconta almeno tre guerre prima di quella in corso.
Di tutte le cose che racconta, voglio salvare il suo ricordo più caro, per me il più bello: quando aveva tre anni chiede e ottiene di potere andare all’asilo da sola, senza essere accompagnata; le viene concesso; ma suo padre per sicurezza la segue da lontano, la protegge a distanza. E se lei per caso si volta, lui si nasconde. Al secondo posto metterei la ricca libreria dello zio riportata dopo una permanenza di lavoro in Libia, dove la giovane Asmaa (che vuol dire “i nomi”) scopre la letteratura occidentale.
Ci spiega che Hamas all’inizio ha saputo come attirare e coinvolgere la popolazione usando la cultura, lo spettacolo. Proprio quegli aspetti che col tempo ha rinnegato, per diventare sempre più chiusa e violenta e prevaricatrice, integralista e oscurantista. Dedica qualche pagina a Vittorio Arrigoni, di cui era amica, e alla sua morte. Mi ha raccontato un Medio Oriente, che nonostante i campi profughi (in uno di questi, a Rafah, è nata e cresciuta anche Asmaa) e il perenne stato di guerra, e i posti di blocco, si vive, si viaggia, ci si sposta, ci si incontra: dall’Egitto agli Emirati, Asmaa sa renderlo vivo e palpitante.
Quello che neppur elei è riuscita a farmi capire è come mai i palestinesi sono arabi di serie B, odiati dalla maggior parte degli israeliani (che altrimenti non eleggerebbe un governo come quello in carica), ma anche dalla maggior parte degli arabi. Parenti poveri.
Da bambini giocavamo molto ad "arabi ed ebrei". Gli uni si nascondevano, gli altri li cercavano. In genere i maschi facevano gli ebrei e noi femmine gli arabi, perché gli ebrei sono più forti e più brutali. Nessuno ragionava su cosa volesse dire, non facevamo politica, l'importante era divertirci. Mai israeliani, sempre solo ebrei.
Aggiungo che avrei gradito l’interessantissimo soggetto fosse approcciato con stile di scrittura un po’ più curato, meno tirato via. Tralasciando la traduzione, che essendo di Alessandro Bracci Testasecca è per forza di cose inappuntabile come sempre, credo d’aver capito che Asmaa Alghoul abbia raccontato a voce, forse registrato, i vari capitoli, l’intero libro; Nassib ha messo su carta in francese e poi tradotto in arabo per l’accettazione di Asmaa Alghoul (che evidentemente non maneggia il francese tanto quanto l’inglese). Se il processo è stato questo, direi che la responsabilità è tutta di Nassib: sensazione di consecutio zoppicante, eccesso di enfasi, dialoghi affrontati come parti descrittive e viceversa, eccetera. Peccato.
Asmaa Alghoul
L’incontro con Asmaa Alghoul e Selim Nassib ha inaugurato questa nuova edizione di Libri Come al sempre bello e accogliente Auditorium di Roma. Lei, per quanto annunciata, ha potuto essere presente solo attraverso collegamento: si può emigrare, trovare una terra meno violenta (e sicuramente Asmaa rischiava la vita a Gaza, si era spinta troppo in là, ribelle di natura) ma poi la burocrazia incatena: non sapendo a chi lasciare i due figli, e non avendo i documenti per portarseli dietro, è rimasta in Francia. Incontro molto interessante coordinato bene dal giornalista Giorgio Zanchini capace di alternare le sue pregnanti domande tra i due ospiti e porgerle sempre senza dilungarsi. Impossibile non parlare del genocidio in corso, impossibile non ricordare lo scorso 7 ottobre e quell’orrore che ha avviato quello in corso. Gaza risorge sempre come una fenice, ha concluso Asmaa Alghoul.
Asmaa al-Ghoul is a phenomenal woman! She grew up in a refugee camp in Gaza, terrified of the Israeli soldiers and wondering when bombs might start falling on them again. She grew up in a way that is inconceivable to most (all?) us in the West with her country in a state of war. In spite of this, or perhaps because of it, she is now a strong and outspoken young woman who speaks out about the atrocities committed upon the Palestinians by the Israelis. She also speaks out against Muslim fundamentalists, especially Fatah and Hamas, and the Western world that mostly stands by in silence as the Palestinians suffer.
This book was OK but could have been fantastic with a better edit and a better translator. It was obvious that English is not the first language of the translator as the English was elementary and awkward much of the time. The book feels erratic and there is an overuse of exclamation points that was annoying. However, in some ways the "all-over-the-place-ness" of the book is fitting, with the unstable and dangerous place in which Asmaa grew up.
It was interesting to learn about her life, but the book isn't very deep, and as already noted, was all over the place. I think I would prefer, rather than a memoir, a political book written by her. She has many insightful things to say and deserves to be listened to. It cannot be easy being a strong and vocal woman in such a religious and patriarchal society; indeed, Asmaa has been beaten and jailed and had her life threatened, merely because she speaks the truth about civil rights violations and will not be silenced. She is an important voice coming out of the Middle East and one I am glad to have heard.
Ancora un buco nell’acqua per quanto riguarda il mio antico desiderio di capire meglio il punto di vista dei palestinesi. Asmaa al-Ghoul sarà forse una brava giornalista, e anche una ragazza intelligente e coraggiosa, ma non ha la più lontana idea di come si scriva un libro di memorie. Disordinato, confuso, sbrigativo, un lungo e intricato pasticcio di eventi pubblici e privati mai spiegati fino in fondo, in gran parte incomprensibili a chi non conosca bene le complesse vicende del Medio Oriente. Ne ho ricavato una sola impressione: che la situazione a Gaza è cento volte più complicata di quello che pensavo. E che il mondo arabo non solo è il più diverso e lontano dal nostro mondo occidentale, molto più di quello giapponese per esempio, ma che ogni giorno che passa si allontana di più, come una zattera che va disperatamente alla deriva, e io non ne capisco le cause, ma ne provo un dispiacere struggente.
This is the best book I have read about living in Gaza (and I have read quite a number recently). It really opened my eyes in a way other books have not. It is balanced and brutally honest about all the conflicts and oppression both within and from outside Gaza. What a courageous lady. I would seriously recommend this memoir to anybody who likes to better understand the plight of our Palestinian friends. I am not sure if she is still writing/blogging. If you discover that she is then please do let me know. Thank you Asmaa.
Che potenza, che forza, quanta resilienza. Asmaa Alghoul racconta la sua vita in quanto donna palestinese, rivendicando libertà e autodeterminazione in un luogo pervaso da estremismo e morte. Difficile e confusionario se non si conosce bene la storia del medio oriente e del conflitto israelo-palestinese ma resta una lettura tanto difficile quanto necessaria.
«Il messaggio di Israele era: "siamo in grado di distruggere Gaza e nessuno verrà ad aiutarvi, nessuno ci fermerà. Siete alla nostra mercè"». Il libro è del 2016 e queste parole di Asmaa Alghoul si riferiscono alla guerra del 2014, cinquantuno giorni d'estate in cui Gaza ha subito attacchi terribili.
Questo è il racconto di una ribelle contro ogni oppressione. «L'unica cosa che manca alla gente è un buon libro. Di questo ha bisogno Gaza. È un territorio che ha solo bisogno di aprirsi al mondo, e a vietarlo è l'assedio imposto da Israele, Hamas, al-Fatah ed Egitto». Questa promozione della lettura non è una frase ad effetto che Asmaa piazza lì a caso. Segue il racconto di un suo cugino che, militante di Hamas, dopo aver letto alcuni libri abbandona l'organizzazione islamica, la sua violenza e il suo fanatismo.
Asmaa Alghoul è perseguitata da tutti. Non la sopporta al-Fatah, Hamas l'ha incarcerata più volte e anche picchiata, Israele l'ha inserita nella lista delle persone sgradite. Asmaa non è sola: sono tante e tanti, i ribelli a Gaza, con buona pace della frottola secondo cui i palestinesi sono tutti con Hamas (e quindi, in fondo in fondo, quello che gli sta capitando un po' se lo sono voluto).
È un libro di vita, La ribelle di Gaza, è un atto d'amore verso Gaza. «Gli stranieri che ci venivano due settimane finivano per fermarsi sei mesi. C'è una magia in questo territorio, si diventa se stessi, si percepisce il valore della propria vita e non per il fatto di essere mussulmani, cristiani o ebrei. Il centro del mondo non è la kaaba della Mecca, come sostengono i sauditi, ma Gaza, il paese di Sansone e Dalila».
Un relat interessantíssim per conèixer què suposa haver viscut a Gaza durant les darreres dècades. A les conseqüències dels continuats atacs israelians, s'hi suma la repressió de Hamàs. No és fàcil desenvolupar-se com a persona, i com a dona, davant tantes circumstàncies adverses, però el testimoni de l'Asmaa al-Ghoul ens mostra com es possible rebel.lar-se contra lleis i costums arbitraris, encara que les represàlies siguin considerables. Una vida plena de lluita i coratge d'algú que estima la seva gent i la seva terra.
La lectura de este libro es obligatoria, imprescindible. El valor que tiene es increíble no solo por las vivencias personales que cuenta Asmaa con tanta visceralidad, sino también por su labor periodística. Hace del libro en conjunto una fuente de conocimiento muy necesaria, que también te abre la puerta a otros escritores, periodistas, políticos y pensadores.. estoy muy agradecida de haber llegado hasta este libro, lo recomiendo muchísimo!! 🇵🇸❤️Palestina libre siempre!!!!
This book offers a very different and important perspective on the internal politics of Gaza and the conflict between Hamas and Fatah and other political movements in Palestine. Asmaa Al-Ghoul’s voice is courageous and at odds with what many would like to hear or believe. Her writing style is messy and ranting - almost what you would expect in a personal diary, but I appreciated the honesty in her story-telling which is why I rated it higher than I otherwise would have.
I had never heard of this book before but I am so glad I picked it up last weekend. This book follows the story of Asmaa Alghoul and her family during the early 2000s in Gaza. We see her experience with Hamas and how she became an activist fighting for freedom in her country. This was so inspiring and truly an amazing story for girls all over the world! "Two missiles launched by an F16 fighter had pulverized their house. It seems that just one of those missiles costs half a million dollars. They'd spent their whole life in poverty in that miserable house-- no foundations, no cement, no decoration, nothing at all, a corrugated iron roof-- and their death had cost a million dollars! What a bleak farce! May God have mercy on them."
« A Rebel in Gaza » offers a rare glimpse into life in Gaza. With unflinching candour, Asmaa documents what life has been like for Gazawis in great detail, covering everything from the oppressive power plays of Hamas and Fatah, to the rituals that persist despite all the struggles of everyday life in Gaza, like the dedication many Gazawis have to watching Turkish soap operas no matter the circumstances. Asmaa’s vivid descriptions give readers a nuanced, humanising view of a place so often reduced to gory headlines.
As a Middle Eastern woman, much of Asmaa’s story resonated deeply with me, especially the suffocating control Islamists exert over women. She captures with painful precision the emotional toll of simply trying to exist under multiple oppressive systems (both military occupation and patriarchal Islamist rule).
There were many quotes I marked up in the book, and one quote that particularly struck me reads: « […] the whole dilemma of Palestinians: either they choose the Molotov cocktail, or sometimes a fortuitous event puts them on a path that allows them to discover their gifts….our societies, alas, are constructed in such a way as to kill off talent, when it’s so easy to make a Molotov cocktail. » This had me teary-eyed. Palestinians, like all of us, simply want to live.
This book was a bittersweet - but highly gripping - read. I’m giving it 4 stars instead of 5 solely due to the repeated use of the word « conflict » to describe the violence between Israel and Palestine. While this may be a translation choice, or an attempt at accessibility, it risks minimising the stark power imbalance, given that Israel is an occupying force. Nonetheless, a highly recommended read.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
La ribelle di Gaza è l'autobiografia di Asmaa al-Ghoul, attivista e giornalista palestinese, insignita di numerosi premi e riconoscimenti, e oppositrice sia della brutale occupazione israeliana, che ricorda come costante sin da quando era bambina, con terrore e poi quasi con noia e "rassegnazione", sia dei partiti di Fatah e Hamas, giudicati corrotti, opprimenti e oscurantisti. Asmaa proprio a causa delle ripetute minacce ricevute dai miliziani ha dovuto lasciare la striscia per mettersi in salvo, ma riconoscendo la sua identità gazawi come fiera e ribelle, depositaria di un passato indomito. Ho trovato interessante leggere il mutamento della società gazawi dagli anni '80, quando la società palestinese era laica e progressista, fino agli di Hamas, con le donne costrette a velarsi e una fortissima segregazione tra i sessi, che ha portato dolore e lutto soprattutto tra le persone più giovani. Asmaa si rammarica in particolar modo del fatto che le persone più givani crescono in un ambiente senza libri stimoli culturale e senza un'educazione alle bellezza e alle arti, che permette di aprire lo sguardo oltre i confini della società in cui si è nati. Anche se la biografia è stata scritta 10 anni fa è ancora tristemente attuale.
Nota scema: libro da far leggere a tutte le persone che si sentono genitori sciagurati XD
What an amazing woman and writer. - If you want an apolitical perspective on what Palestinians in Gaza want read this. Spoiler alert: it's what everyone wants, freedom to be, to travel, to love, to live.
Highly recommend for those who want to understand more, from a human's perspective, about the dynamics between Hamas and Fatah as well as some insight into the devastating impacts of the Israeli occupation.
La ribelle di Gaza è l’autobiografia di Asmaa Alghoul, nata e cresciuta nel campo profughi di Rafah, donna libera che entra fin da giovanissima in contrasto con molte imposizioni e privazioni subite dalle donne, raccontando nei suoi articoli e nel suo blog personale cosa succede a Gaza (finirà per questo anche in prigione) tra guerre e scalata al potere di Hamas. È un libro brevissimo, ma interessante da leggere
Honestly, I found this rather disappointing. I was hoping to get a true insider view of Gaza (prior to the current situation), but feel like I got a very privileged view of it. I'm not sure that Asmaa's experience is what the majority of the residents of Gaza experience. Also, at least half of this book was written while she was living outside of Gaza. And like others have said, it jumped around a lot and was hard to follow.
I'm usually not a fan of biographies... but this one is something else. Asmaa Alghoul tells us things as they are without filters, it's pure reality, she doesn't try to embellish or make things worse. This is the view of one Palestinian woman among thousands of Palestinians.
Asmaa Alghoul is the kind of woman you admire, the one you cannot grasp, what is striking when you read this book is the accuracy of its title: Asmaa is a rebel, she is free, she is elusive. trying to stop it is like trying to catch the wind.
Reading this, the question “Do you condemn HaMAs??” kept popping into my head, so I couldn't stay serious all the time, it was ridiculous!
But keep in mind that this is still just one point of view. The Palestinian people are a heterogeneous group, so not everyone shares the author's point of view (and she repeats it herself)! so yes, it was an interesting read!
me falta tanto por saber del mundo árabe, leyendo este libro me sentía una completa ignorante respecto a la vida política de todos estos países, bueno, realmente ignorante con el modo de vida que tienen en general. israel en este libro se siente más como un monstruo que acecha gaza pero que está de telón de fondo, y sirve para explicarte cómo el odio y el miedo empujan a hamás a la victoria, y cómo este acaba controlando todos los aspectos de la vida de asmaa y de los civiles de gaza. el libro se centra más en esto, me ha recordado a persépolis. asmaa es una persona increíble la verdad. gracias sara por recomendármelo y dejármelo, me ha abierto los ojos muchísimo. pd: es terrorífico cómo israel es impune e imparable desde 1948.
Avrei voluto davvero che mi piacesse questo libro, purtroppo l'ho trovato disorganizzato ed inconcludente. Porto un profondo rispetto per la storia di questa donna e per la questione palestinese, di cui pensavo avrei imparato qualcosa in più.
Lectura del club de lectura de l'Ateneu. Visita de la mateixa autora. Les memòries són molt colpidores, dona una visió de les atrocitats comeses al poble palestí per part de Hamàs, el Fatah i Israel. També resulta molt interessant tot el contingut feminista que travessa l'obra i que és fruit del pensament de l'autora.
Un libro di vita vera davvero interessante sull'islamismo e le guerre che ne sono scaturite! Asmaa è una giornalista che negli anni cerca di documentare ciò che succede a Gaza e di resistere nella sua lotta personale.
La ribelle di Gaza - asmaa al ghoul - 7.5 - diario di chi si ribella a Gaza. Si ribella a isreeale, ma sopratutto, giorno dopo giorno, al fondamentalismo dilagante di Hamas, che si nutre e prospera nella resistenza alle guerre continue di Israele. Così se non ti uccide un missile israeliano, ti uccide Hamas se non porti il velo, se sposi chi non devi, se scrivi verità scomode. Racconto drammatico, bisognerebbe leggerlo nelle scuole, e dovrebbero farlo anche i politicanti che pontificano cosa è giusto o sbagliato in una realtà semplice, complessa, di fatto incomprensibile. Coraggioso
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I loved this book. Her writing is great, even translated. The story is inspiring and told from a point of view I think we often don't get to see in the United States, or the western world for that matter.
Brilliant book, a personal perspective on life in Gaza and an insight into Fatah and Hamas conflicts and political and cultural ruling from a human perspective. You also gain a personal insight into the impact of the Israeli occupation. A wonderfully written memoir, highly recommend.
Terrible! Could only get through 50 pages. For a journalist, it was written like an adolescent. It was just a series of disjointed experiences with no depth or background to let the reader understand. Also, where was the book editor? Numerous grammatical and spelling errors.
I read this in French as "L'Insoumise in Gaza" but trust it is as absorbing in English!
The eldest of nine, Asmaa Alghoul grew up in the Gaza refugee camp of Rafah where her grandparents had fled after their land was taken by the Israelis. I found it hard to “place” her family; although, as a refugee, she received handouts at school, her father was clearly educated, at times holding down a professional post abroad and teaching at a Gaza university, while her uncles were much more fundamentally religious, supporters of Hamas, some holding quite senior posts. Encouraged to ask questions by her relatively broad-minded father but chastised by the uncles for her lack of piety, by her mother for not doing her homework and her teacher for misbehaving at school, a combination of these factors must have engendered her unusually stubborn, resilient and persistent stance, a prerequisite for a female journalist in the tough, chauvinist environment of the Gaza strip.
Having left an Islamic university because it was too strict, and a less academic, more secular one when her course folded through lack of students, Asmaa quickly found work writing for a newspaper about the plight of Gaza and Palestinian women’s rights, going on to win a succession of international prizes for the courage and quality of her work.
She demonstrates in quite an extreme form the dilemma of the woman who wants to combine marriage and motherhood with a career which involves great commitment flexibility, even danger in the sense of risking arrest and torture for attending a demonstration, or death when trying to cover an Israeli attack. She tends to let her “heart rule her head” in choosing husbands, only to find them to be not as open-minded as she thought. Perhaps she is a little blinkered when it comes to admitting her own fault in the failure of a relationship. She certainly seems to have suffered post-natal depression after the birth of her son, both her children being largely brought up by her own mother, it seems.
She gives a vivid impression of life in the Gaza strip, surprising me at first with her “plague on all your houses” attitude to the various opposing groups who confine the inhabitants in a vice. As a child she refused a sweet from a well-meaning Israeli soldier, “because it contained poison”. Some of her earliest memories were of Israeli soldiers attacking with stones and teargas the house of her extended family, beating her uncles for their connections with Hamas. Years later she was to tell a Jewish American lecturer at Columbia that he was the first Israeli to teach her something.
Yet she also condemns the corruption of Fatah and the Palestinian Organisation, claiming that they pocketed large sums sent by naïve European and American groups to help the Palestinians. One of their number, she claims, even supplied the concrete to build the infamous wall protecting Israel.
Dispelling my belief that Hamas was at least democratically elected to represent Gaza, she describes how they manipulated the system to get enough votes to win. She also describes their repressive fanaticism, driven by control freakery rather than based on any doctrine, in which a woman is continually harassed and manhandled for failing to cover her hair completely with a headscarf, arrested for sitting on the beach fully clad, but with her clothing moulded to her body after bathing in the sea, or tortured for attending a demonstration.
As is no doubt vital for one’s sanity and endurance, there is much humour in the book, as when she manages to flout the taboo on cycling, using the company of some European wars waged by the Israelis in the early C21, culminating in the broken ceasefire of 2014 in which several members of her family were killed, mostly innocent civilians. She writes vividly of her fear of being killed, the sudden and arbitrary nature of death: of her newborn twin nephews, one died and the other survives, but to be haunted by this fact for the rest of his life. Then there is the strange depression which comes in the aftermath of bombardment when all tension is abruptly removed and one can relax. Although she appreciates that all wars must end in peace between enemies, so sees the futility of retaliation, she describes the urge to do so “because our blood is not as cheap as you think”.
No one escapes her fearless, pithy, no-holds-barred analysis, so it is obvious why she has attracted such fierce attacks in return. “What a region!” she writes, in which Islamic State kills people indiscriminately in the name of a perverted interpretation of Islam, whereas Israel does so in the name of its Promised Land. She ends this book on a positive, defiant note but the prospect seems bleak in reality.
Some prior knowledge is needed to appreciate this book fully, although I suppose it could equally well inspire a reader to go away and gen themselves up on an injustice which is allowed to persist through widespread indifference compounded by ignorance.
I thought this was great. Al-Ghoul’s writing is lively and direct and although the book is mostly heartbreaking, she’s often very funny. (“All the films shown in Gaza, except for those at the French Institute, are supposed to be viewed in advance by Hamas. In a 2010 festival with the pretty name of ‘In the Eyes of Women’ the Islamist organization had demanded (and obtained) that a sequence showing two birds mating by cut … Morality in Gaza had a narrow escape.”) She’s strictly fair-minded and critical of repression wherever it comes from: Fatah, Hamas, the NGOs and feminist organizations that shy away from publicly opposing Hamas, the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt and the coup that overthrew it. Hamas is the most frequent target because it’s the one that’s closest to her life. It’s fascinating to get a quotidian portrait of Hamas that isn’t particularly ideological in any direction. Al-Ghoul documents occasions where she was harassed for having uncovered hair or entering a man’s house, where she was arrested and beaten or threatened with torture in the police station. She records the arbitrariness of Hamas’s moral enforcement: no law compels women in Gaza to cover their heads, but morality police can arrest them on a thin pretense and only let them go if they sign a commitment to follow Hamas’s understanding of Islamic law. The morality police also seem able to overrule actual Hamas government figures at times. Several of al-Ghoul’s uncles were notable figures in Hamas, and she relates frankly that her family knew that one of them kept Fatah prisoners on his property and tortured them. Fatah’s hands weren’t clean either, of course; Al-Ghoul writes in detail about the mutual atrocities of the civil war that followed the election that brought Hamas to power, and she notes how bitter it was that, during the 2008-2009 Israeli assault on Gaza, both political organizations took advantage of the chaos to attack their political rivals while neglecting emergency services. During the short-lived Palestinian version of the Arab Spring, Fatah and Hamas competed to co-opt rallies and present them as directed against the competing faction rather than against both regimes. The Israeli occupation comes up more rarely--it seems more distant from al-Ghoul’s day-to-day life than Hamas is--but what al-Ghoul does say about it is piercing. She describes constant vulnerability to home raids by the IDF in her childhood, arbitrary and unappealable restrictions on travel that often kept her from doing her work as a journalist. She notes how the 2008 bombardment began at just the time when student shifts at the UNRWA schools were changing, maximizing the number of children who were killed in the streets walking to and from school. The book ends on the 2014 Israeli assault on Gaza. In that war, Israel activated the “Hannibal doctrine,” a directive to pursue catastrophic destruction in the area where an Israeli hostage is held in order to avoid being pressured into an exchange of prisoners, against Rafah, the small southern Gaza town where al-Ghoul grew up; her driver for the TV station where she worked was cut in half by a missile while driving a clearly marked press vehicle; Israel used depleted uranium munitions that created a cancer wave across Gaza; and several of al-Ghoul’s family members, including a baby, were killed. The description of the terror of that war, against the background of all the terror that al-Ghoul has faced with equanimity throughout the book, is really grueling. Horrible to think about now.