This is an odd book. On its final page, Shehadeh writes: “the only future is for the two peoples to live together.” This is a respectable closing message. However, you would be unlikely to guess that was going to be his conclusion from the previous 107 pages. His strange historical narrative simultaneously presumes too much knowledge of the reader to be suitable for someone unfamiliar to this topic, yet is also too lacking in original insight to offer much to someone already well-acquainted. He blandly recites tired nationalist dogmas, the constantly reheated Nasser-era propaganda of how Jewish aggression in the name of their historically-illegitimate state is the one and only cause of the conflict, with no Palestinian having ever committed a single atrocity or even made a single mistake. At least, that’s how it appears on the surface. If you read between the lines, there subtle indication that he knows that there are truths beyond these dogmas, but he is loath to say them too loudly. There is a fascinating uncertainty and insecurity that rests unseen beneath and between the words of this book.
I could dive deep into this book's curious relationship with the historical truth, but there something more interesting to be said about Shehadeh himself here: his convictions seem certain on the surface, but deeper down are quite conflicted. For example, he smugly suggests that "the Bible" is the only basis Jews have for their historical claim to the Southern Levant, but then elsewhere refers to Jews "returning" after 2000 years. On the surface, this book will certainly appease hardline Palestinian ethnonationalists who cling adamantly to the mythology that all Jews are white Eastern Europeans with no claim to the Land - but if you dig a little deeper, it's clear that Shehadeh falls ever so slightly short of fully embracing such dogma. Much of the book is written in this way, falling almost imperceptibly short of nationalist absolutism, in a way that allows ultranationalists to smugly fill in the gaps, whilst leaving himself with enough plausible deniability for moderates. Shehadeh's outward certainty but inward uncertainty represents the crossroads that Palestinians and their allies find themselves at in the 21st century. The narrative that fuelled Palestinian nationalism for most of its history, an absolutist, ethnonationalist mythology that adamantly insists that 'من المية للمية فلسطين عربية - From the River to the Sea, Palestine is all Arab' is one that most Palestinians are deeply emotionally attached to, regardless of its truth, and Shehadeh is no exception. But 80 years have shown that such a narrative is not only a distortion of truth (to be fair, as all nationalist mythologies are), it is not useful to the Palestinians. Israel shows no sign of disappearing, and earnest interest in peace on the Arab side has been historically mirrored in Israel. A Palestine that earnestly wants peace, freedom, and justice will need a new narrative that allows it cease bowing to the twin golden calves of ethnonationalist irredentism and violent struggle.
Shehadeh is too smart to fall head-over-heels into nationalist dogma. He obviously recognizes that, practically speaking, some from of 2-state compromise is Palestine's best and most realistic path for freedom (he has implied this in interviews too), that the Jewish claim has some degree of legitimacy, and Israelis are not universally warmongering brutes. But he is loath to spell these ideas out, for risk of alienating some of his audience and expose the reality that the Pro-Palestine movement is quite ideologically divided, but also because I think he struggles to fully accept these truths himself. Shehadeh was born in 1951, and his generation of Palestinians is the last that can afford to languish in this uncertain dissonance. Now that the scale of destruction is higher than ever, and the world's eyes are glued to the Middle East like never before, Palestinians (and Israelis too) need to decide whether they believe in territorial compromise and peace, or ethnonationalist irredentism and perpetual war. The path to peace is not easy, King Hussein of Jordan's brilliant line "peace requires no less courage than war" remains as true as ever, but there is no alternative. Ironically. Shehadeh reminds me of the sort of Israeli who vaguely speaks of a sympathy for Gaza, but advocates for no tangible policies that would roll back the occupation and bring us closer to peace, too attached are they to their familiar old narratives—Shehadeh’s view is the Palestinian mirror image of this tired, outdated stance. Palestine, Israel, and all of the Middle East need thought leaders with more courage and creativity than Raja Shehadeh.