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In Search of Fatima: A Palestinian Story
An intimate and powerful narrative in which the Israel-Palestine conflict is presented, unusually, from the Palestinian side, In Search of Fatima reflects the author’s personal experiences of displacement, loss and nostalgia against a backdrop of the major political events which have shaped Middle East conflict.
In Search of Fatima is a powerful biographical story, but it is also a book which transcends its author’s own experience. It speaks for the millions of people all over the world who have lived suspended between their old and new countries, fitting into neither. An account not of the physical hardship and abuse suffered by many refugees, but rather an exploration of the subtler privations of psychological displacement and loss of identity.
In Search of Fatima is a powerful biographical story, but it is also a book which transcends its author’s own experience. It speaks for the millions of people all over the world who have lived suspended between their old and new countries, fitting into neither. An account not of the physical hardship and abuse suffered by many refugees, but rather an exploration of the subtler privations of psychological displacement and loss of identity.
451 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2002
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8112 people want to read
About the author
Ghada Karmi
14 books155 followersDr Ghada Karmi was born in Palestine and then had to flee with her family when it became Israel. She grew up in Britain and now she's a doctor, author, academic, and well-know international commentator on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.
Ghada still vividly remembers a huge bombing just behind her house in Jerusalem. "It was absolutely dreadful. I was bewildered, I was scared - I could see my parents were scared, which is very scary for a child because you think your parents know it all and they look after you. I knew, from that moment on, things had changed for us. I didn't know how, but things weren't going to be the same again."
After fleeing their family home, her family eventually settled in London. "My mother was very angry about the loss of the homeland. She didn't speak English, she didn't want to come that far afield, she just wasn't prepared. I'm afraid she never adapted, she stayed very Arab. I think it's a very great tragedy, one of the many, is people like my mother, who could not accept her exile, and was never really happy in Britain - and never found happiness again, in fact."
Unlike her mother, Ghada settled in fairly quickly. "I was a child. I made friends, I became very much part of the English way of life. I married an Englishman! I felt not just integrated, but assimilated."
Her idea for a one-state solution in the Middle East hasn't got much support as yet. "This is still a minority view. There is a constituency for it, on both sides, and also by the way among non-Jews and non-Palestinians, but the good news is - this constituency is growing. A few years back nobody was talking about the one-state solution. Today, three or four years on, we are hearing more and more voices raised in support. That, to me, shows that the trend is growing."
Ghada still vividly remembers a huge bombing just behind her house in Jerusalem. "It was absolutely dreadful. I was bewildered, I was scared - I could see my parents were scared, which is very scary for a child because you think your parents know it all and they look after you. I knew, from that moment on, things had changed for us. I didn't know how, but things weren't going to be the same again."
After fleeing their family home, her family eventually settled in London. "My mother was very angry about the loss of the homeland. She didn't speak English, she didn't want to come that far afield, she just wasn't prepared. I'm afraid she never adapted, she stayed very Arab. I think it's a very great tragedy, one of the many, is people like my mother, who could not accept her exile, and was never really happy in Britain - and never found happiness again, in fact."
Unlike her mother, Ghada settled in fairly quickly. "I was a child. I made friends, I became very much part of the English way of life. I married an Englishman! I felt not just integrated, but assimilated."
Her idea for a one-state solution in the Middle East hasn't got much support as yet. "This is still a minority view. There is a constituency for it, on both sides, and also by the way among non-Jews and non-Palestinians, but the good news is - this constituency is growing. A few years back nobody was talking about the one-state solution. Today, three or four years on, we are hearing more and more voices raised in support. That, to me, shows that the trend is growing."
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February 19, 2015
May 15, 1948. The world (at large) knows of it as the Israeli Independence Day. But the Palestinians call it by another name: Yawm-an Nakba ("Day of Catastrophe") - for what name is more fitting for a day when daylight robbery was legitimised?
It is true that history is always written by the victors. So the "heroes" always win, and the "villains" always get defeated. This is the story we hear. But what about the narrative of the defeated? Who are the heroes and villains in that tale?
The formation of Israel is one of the most romanticised historic events, more so in the West. The tale of a homeless people, wandering around for centuries, endlessly persecuted, ultimately almost wiped out in the most horrific incident of planned and scientific genocide known in history; finally returning back to their mythic homeland and carving out a nation for themselves in the midst of hostile neighbours is the stuff of mythical sagas. What is sad is, the other side of this story, the tale of a people uprooted from their homeland and thrown out to become the flotsam of the modern world is largely unknown on misunderstood.
Yes, I am talking about the Palestinians. Those crazed terrorists as depicted in Western media, who take pleasure in killing women and angelic Israeli children. A race which has been so marginalised and demonised that they have lost all common decency accorded to human beings, and are on the way to becoming a footnote people in history.
It is in this context that I believe books like In Search of Fatima by Dr. Ghada Karmi becomes relevant. Because she gives a face to these "terrorist demons". And we find with a shock that it is a human face, not very different from ours.
History
The country called "Palestine" has never existed as a sovereign state (but then, never has Israel). "Palestine" is more a name of an area than a country. The birthplace of three of the world's biggest religions, the area has been claimed exclusively by all three (although Christianity has relinquished its exclusive rights recently, I think). And it has resulted in contests and counter-conquests to capture the holiest of all holy cities - Jerusalem.
Palestine and the nearby areas had been under the rule of the Ottoman Empire since the early sixteenth century: a rule which was to end only after the First World War, when the Ottomans picked the losing horse. Britain, getting control of all of the Middle East with the help of Arabs by promising them a Pan-Arabic state, did their usual job betrayal after the war was won. Palestine came under the British mandate in 1922.
Jews, who had been displaced from their homeland in prehistoric times, had been meanwhile returning since the late nineteenth century. Even though mistrust existed between them and the Arabs in the region, both religions managed to exist side-by-side in relative harmony. Of course, there were uprisings against the British, and also in-fighting between various Arab groups (some things don't change in the Middle East, it seems). However, as the years went by, Jewish immigration to the area became alarming, and the immigrants became more and more aggressive. In the period of 1936 to 1939, there was general uprising against Britain, which was suppressed: however, Britain was forced to go back from its intent to create a Jewish homeland in Palestine.
After the Second World War, the immigration of European Jews to Palestine increased tremendously in numbers, and the Zionist lobby grew in power all over the Western world. Britain tried to restrict these numbers, but by then the Zionist lobby was physically and financially strong. Right-wing Zionist groups like the Irgun openly warring against the occupiers. So the British Empire went back to its time-tested formula: leave a colony which had become a losing proposition. Accordingly, the English withdrew, and the immigrants settled down clinically to the task of driving the Palestinians out. The Arabs were too disunited and lacked the will- and muscle-power to fight them. Ultimately, on 29th November 1947, the UN General Council passed a resolution legitimising the formation of independent Arab and Jewish states. And on 15th of May the following year, the state of Israel came into being.
The Book
The book is divided into three parts: Palestine, England and In Search of Fatima. In the first part, the author describes her early childhood in a relatively peaceful country ending with the ultimate violent uprooting; in the second, her coming of age in England and the realisation that she is an unfortunate hybrid, English in upbringing and Arab in spirit, belonging neither here nor there; and in the third, her return to Palestine to find her roots, symbolised by her childhood nurse, Fatima.
Ghada Karmi was born (possibly -because in those days, Arabs did not keep any note of birthdays) on the 19th of November, 1939, into a world at war and a country passing through the final stages of a violent uprising. She says her mother never wanted to have her, because it was no world to bring a child into. However, soon after Ghada's birth, the country entered a stage of peace between the Jews, Christians and Muslims in Palestine. Her childhood memories are peaceful, almost idyllic.
Ghada's mother was from Damascus and her father was from the small village of Tulkarm. They were typical upper middle class people, and Mr. Karmi was a literate man with a collection of books. Ghada's mother was relatively advanced in her views and socialised extensively. The children were more or less left to the nurse-cum-housekeeper, Fatima, a peasant woman whom little Ghada idolised. They lived in the prosperous neighbourhood of Qatamon in Jerusalem. One could say that little Ghada had a fortunate life in turbulent times.
However, all that was to change as the Zionist lobby gained strength, and the fights between Jews and Muslims escalated. But the author's family, it seems, lived in the fools' paradise that most of us live in ("This cannot happen in MY country!") and did not see the writing on the wall until it was too late, even when their neighbourhood was rocked by extreme violence. Even if they had foreseen their eviction from their homeland, it is doubtful whether they could have done anything, because the hopelessly divided Arab lobby was anything but capable of standing up to Zionist power. So finally, in April 1948, they had to evacuate to Syria, to the house Ghada's maternal grandparents.
Ghada's mother, unable to accept permanent exile and always maintaining until the end of her life that they would return to Palestine one day, gave the key of her house to Fatima for "safekeeping". They moved away in a rickety taxi to the music of exploding bombs. It is at this point, when the author realised that she had to leave her dog Rex behind, the force of loss struck her in its enormity for the first time. This is captured poignantly in the book's prologue:
Another explosion. The taxi, which had seen better days, revved loudly and started to move off. But through the back window, a terrible sight which only she could see. Rex had somehow got out, was standing in the middle of the road. He was still and silent, staring after their retreating car, his tail stiff, his ears pointing forward.
With utter clarity, the little girl saw in that moment that he knew what she knew, that they would never meet again.
This is the first wake-up call which signifies the death of childhood for ever - the harsh reality of permanent loss.
They stayed for a year in Syria, but by the time Ghada's father had realised that there was no future for him there; and he was realistic enough to accept that an immediate return to Palestine was out of the question. Post-war England beckoned. Against his wife's protests, he took a job in the Arabic service of the BBC and moved to London. He ultimately succeeded in coaxing his reluctant wife to join him, along with her children. So at nine years of age, Ghada set foot on English soil for the first time, the country which was to be her adoptive motherland.
Little Ghada was not at all unhappy to leave the house of her grandparents in Damascus, which was crowded with members of the joint family. The situation was further exacerbated due to the influx of more and more refugee members. Also, the country and the household was fairly traditional, more so than the relatively cosmopolitan Jerusalem. Girls were supposed to be subordinate, women had to cover their hair and one had to pray five times a day. So it must have been something of a relief to relocate to city like London.
However, Mrs. Karmi refused to accept it as home. In their small apartment in Golders Green, she "created a little Palestine" (in Ghada's words). Their house became a centre for all displaced Arabic people. Ghada's mother staunchly refused to learn English and to go out and socialise with the locals. She built a cocoon around herself and became totally insular. The author says this embittered her and from her expression in the photographs in the book, one would tend to agree with her.
Ghada's elder sister, Siham, was marked out to be a doctor: however, due to the subtle racial prejudice prevalent in British society, she could not get admission and ultimately chose chemistry as her vocation. Her brother Ziyad chose engineering, so Ghada was instructed to become a doctor by her father, even though her talent was more in literature and the humanities. But in an Arab family, you did not argue with the father – so a doctor she had to be.
Ghada talks of her school years in England as pleasant enough: racism, even though present, was basically an undercurrent. In fact, among the Arab Muslim and the Jew, the inherent racist bias was more against the latter. However, Egyptian president Nasser’s nationalisation of the Suez Canal on July 26, 1956 changed all that. Overnight, Arabs became barbarian aggressors in the minds of the British.
In school, Ghada began to be isolated more and more. One incident of outright bullying by a Jewish classmate, Zoe Steiner, almost ended in an incident of physical violence. Incidentally, it succeeded in sowing the seed of a crucial existential question in the author’s mind: was she Arab or English?
This dilemma persisted throughout her teens and twenties. On the one side, she was enjoying the freedom of a liberated woman, unthinkable in the Middle East: on the other, Arab nationalism and pride were being ground into dust by Israel and her Western allies. Ghada says that at this time, the existence of a country such as Palestine was unknown in England, and she had to lie about her nationality when questioned to avoid confusion.
At this time, a Pan-Arab movement was taking shape under the charismatic leadership of Nasser, watched warily by Israel. But Ghada had no time for politics because of two important events in her life – she graduated from medical school, and married a classmate (an Englishman) against her family’s wishes.
The marriage was doomed from the start. Ghada’s family (especially her mother) was unvaryingly hostile to John, her husband – all placatory efforts from his side proved futile. And Ghada’s slowly emerging nationalism as an Arab distanced them even more. But what brought things to a head was the six-day war of 1967 between Egypt and Israel which Israel won with ridiculous ease. This foreshadowed the shape of things to come in the area – unlimited expansion of Israeli borders with impunity. Naturally, Ghada was outraged but her husband was on the side of “plucky” Israel who won against enormous odds. She felt totally betrayed, and the rickety marriage collapsed a year later.
Now, in the final part of the book, we see a new Ghada Karmi: a proud Palestinian who has embraced her identity. After the collapse of her marriage, she continued working as a doctor, feeling more and more isolated from fellow Britons when the Palestinian Liberation Organisation entered the scene, under the charismatic leadership of Yasser Arafat. Their tactics of hijacking, bombing and isolated acts of violence against Israelites helped to bring international attention to the plight of Palestinians – it also dubbed them forever as terrorists. And being unabashedly Palestinian, Ghada was automatically stamped with the label.
After a frightening encounter with a group of Jewish doctors in 1971, Ghada decided to embrace the Palestinian Cause – and the PLO – fully. She established “Palestine Action” in England with a group of sympathisers and began to travel all over the Arab world, visiting Palestinian refugee camps and meeting leaders of the PLO. She also participated in protests and political action in England. Ghada describes the magical moment when she met Yasser Arafat, the legend, face-to-face. It seemed as though she had finally found herself.
However, by 1978, the PLO had been recognised by the world at large, and Arafat was seen as the leader in exile of the Palestinian nation. Ghada says she saw no need of continuing her organisation, as it had become redundant. She felt, like many other Palestinians, that the birth of a legitimate Palestine was only a matter of time.
But Israel had other ideas: it invaded Lebanon in 1978 and forced the PLO out of its Beirut headquarters. From then on, the organisation was always on its back foot, pressurised time and again by Israel until Arafat was forced to sign the Oslo Agreements of 1993 – in the eyes of Palestinians, a shameful capitulation. On the personal front, Ghada found it difficult to adjust to Arab society, especially women’s role in it – she says that as a divorcee, she was seen as fair game by men. The most she could hope for was to be a second wife to somebody, or secret liaisons with married men. By the 1980’s Ghada began to see that
…in effect, I had no natural social home in England or any other place. Did we all feel the same?.... When and where was their (her siblings’ and hers) real home?
To get to the root of the question, she had to
…go to the source, the origin, the very place, shunned fearfully for years, where it all began…
…that is, Israel.
The book concludes with Ghada’s 14 day visit to Israel in August 1991 (something denied to most Palestinians), which she could do because of her British passport. She was helped by her Israeli friends. Ghada was shocked at what she saw in “her” country: in her opinion, nothing short of apartheid practised by Jews on Arabs, a minority without voice in what had once been their country. Even though Ghada ultimately located her house (now occupied by strangers), it was “dead, like Fatima, like poor Rex, like us.”
The book ends on a positive note, however, as Ghada lies on her hotel bed in Jerusalem. Suddenly the call to prayer comes floating in through the window. The author says:
I closed my eyes in awe and relief. The story had not ended, after all – not for them, at least, the people who lived there, though they were herded into reservations of a fraction of what had been Palestine. They would remain and multiply and one day return and overtake. Their exile was material and temporary.
Ghada feels however that her personal exile is “undefined by space and time”, from where “there would be no return.”
***
Is this a great book? I cannot honestly answer in the affirmative. Ghada Karmi’s style is rambling, and one feels the book would have benefited from the services of a good editor. The author rushes off on tangents many a time without returning to where she started from.
The memoirs are so steeped in her feeling for Palestine and the outrage that they have suffered that the human touch is missing in many areas (especially where she is discussing relationships). Sometimes, one feels that she has to pigeonhole people (“my Jew friend”, “my Catholic colleague”) racially just to put things in perspective. Even her relationship with her husband and subsequent breakup is only superficially treated, other than as confirmation of her growing Arab identity and its incompatibility with the normal English milieu.
Most importantly, the metaphor of Fatima, as a symbol for the lost Palestine, never takes hold in the mind of the reader.
Still, this is a book which deserves to be read.
In 1969, Golda Meir said: “It was not as though there were a Palestinian people in Palestine considering itself as a Palestinian people and we came and threw them out and took their country away from them. They did not exist.” This was the fate of the Palestinians before the PLO entered the scene with their isolated acts of terrorism – total oblivion. The PLO made them crazed terrorists in the Western mind, which was better – at least they existed!
Of late, with the increasing demonisation of Islam and Muslims in general in the West, the Palestinians have been added to those evil beings like the Al Queida who deserve to exterminated, to make the world safe for democracy. One almost feels that the crusades never ended.
Well, my friends, Palestinians are neither mythical beings nor devils in human guise. They are a people who have been unjustly expelled from their home country to wander the earth as waifs, much like the Jews in previous centuries. They are human beings like you and me, who laugh, cry, eat, drink, love, hate, live and die. They do not get the justice they deserve: let them at least have a voice.
Ghada Karmi provides that voice. Listen to it. Even if it evokes a single tear from you for the suffering of fellow human beings, she would not have spoken in vain.
It is true that history is always written by the victors. So the "heroes" always win, and the "villains" always get defeated. This is the story we hear. But what about the narrative of the defeated? Who are the heroes and villains in that tale?
The formation of Israel is one of the most romanticised historic events, more so in the West. The tale of a homeless people, wandering around for centuries, endlessly persecuted, ultimately almost wiped out in the most horrific incident of planned and scientific genocide known in history; finally returning back to their mythic homeland and carving out a nation for themselves in the midst of hostile neighbours is the stuff of mythical sagas. What is sad is, the other side of this story, the tale of a people uprooted from their homeland and thrown out to become the flotsam of the modern world is largely unknown on misunderstood.
Yes, I am talking about the Palestinians. Those crazed terrorists as depicted in Western media, who take pleasure in killing women and angelic Israeli children. A race which has been so marginalised and demonised that they have lost all common decency accorded to human beings, and are on the way to becoming a footnote people in history.
It is in this context that I believe books like In Search of Fatima by Dr. Ghada Karmi becomes relevant. Because she gives a face to these "terrorist demons". And we find with a shock that it is a human face, not very different from ours.
History
The country called "Palestine" has never existed as a sovereign state (but then, never has Israel). "Palestine" is more a name of an area than a country. The birthplace of three of the world's biggest religions, the area has been claimed exclusively by all three (although Christianity has relinquished its exclusive rights recently, I think). And it has resulted in contests and counter-conquests to capture the holiest of all holy cities - Jerusalem.
Palestine and the nearby areas had been under the rule of the Ottoman Empire since the early sixteenth century: a rule which was to end only after the First World War, when the Ottomans picked the losing horse. Britain, getting control of all of the Middle East with the help of Arabs by promising them a Pan-Arabic state, did their usual job betrayal after the war was won. Palestine came under the British mandate in 1922.
Jews, who had been displaced from their homeland in prehistoric times, had been meanwhile returning since the late nineteenth century. Even though mistrust existed between them and the Arabs in the region, both religions managed to exist side-by-side in relative harmony. Of course, there were uprisings against the British, and also in-fighting between various Arab groups (some things don't change in the Middle East, it seems). However, as the years went by, Jewish immigration to the area became alarming, and the immigrants became more and more aggressive. In the period of 1936 to 1939, there was general uprising against Britain, which was suppressed: however, Britain was forced to go back from its intent to create a Jewish homeland in Palestine.
After the Second World War, the immigration of European Jews to Palestine increased tremendously in numbers, and the Zionist lobby grew in power all over the Western world. Britain tried to restrict these numbers, but by then the Zionist lobby was physically and financially strong. Right-wing Zionist groups like the Irgun openly warring against the occupiers. So the British Empire went back to its time-tested formula: leave a colony which had become a losing proposition. Accordingly, the English withdrew, and the immigrants settled down clinically to the task of driving the Palestinians out. The Arabs were too disunited and lacked the will- and muscle-power to fight them. Ultimately, on 29th November 1947, the UN General Council passed a resolution legitimising the formation of independent Arab and Jewish states. And on 15th of May the following year, the state of Israel came into being.
The Book
The book is divided into three parts: Palestine, England and In Search of Fatima. In the first part, the author describes her early childhood in a relatively peaceful country ending with the ultimate violent uprooting; in the second, her coming of age in England and the realisation that she is an unfortunate hybrid, English in upbringing and Arab in spirit, belonging neither here nor there; and in the third, her return to Palestine to find her roots, symbolised by her childhood nurse, Fatima.
Ghada Karmi was born (possibly -because in those days, Arabs did not keep any note of birthdays) on the 19th of November, 1939, into a world at war and a country passing through the final stages of a violent uprising. She says her mother never wanted to have her, because it was no world to bring a child into. However, soon after Ghada's birth, the country entered a stage of peace between the Jews, Christians and Muslims in Palestine. Her childhood memories are peaceful, almost idyllic.
Ghada's mother was from Damascus and her father was from the small village of Tulkarm. They were typical upper middle class people, and Mr. Karmi was a literate man with a collection of books. Ghada's mother was relatively advanced in her views and socialised extensively. The children were more or less left to the nurse-cum-housekeeper, Fatima, a peasant woman whom little Ghada idolised. They lived in the prosperous neighbourhood of Qatamon in Jerusalem. One could say that little Ghada had a fortunate life in turbulent times.
However, all that was to change as the Zionist lobby gained strength, and the fights between Jews and Muslims escalated. But the author's family, it seems, lived in the fools' paradise that most of us live in ("This cannot happen in MY country!") and did not see the writing on the wall until it was too late, even when their neighbourhood was rocked by extreme violence. Even if they had foreseen their eviction from their homeland, it is doubtful whether they could have done anything, because the hopelessly divided Arab lobby was anything but capable of standing up to Zionist power. So finally, in April 1948, they had to evacuate to Syria, to the house Ghada's maternal grandparents.
Ghada's mother, unable to accept permanent exile and always maintaining until the end of her life that they would return to Palestine one day, gave the key of her house to Fatima for "safekeeping". They moved away in a rickety taxi to the music of exploding bombs. It is at this point, when the author realised that she had to leave her dog Rex behind, the force of loss struck her in its enormity for the first time. This is captured poignantly in the book's prologue:
Another explosion. The taxi, which had seen better days, revved loudly and started to move off. But through the back window, a terrible sight which only she could see. Rex had somehow got out, was standing in the middle of the road. He was still and silent, staring after their retreating car, his tail stiff, his ears pointing forward.
With utter clarity, the little girl saw in that moment that he knew what she knew, that they would never meet again.
This is the first wake-up call which signifies the death of childhood for ever - the harsh reality of permanent loss.
They stayed for a year in Syria, but by the time Ghada's father had realised that there was no future for him there; and he was realistic enough to accept that an immediate return to Palestine was out of the question. Post-war England beckoned. Against his wife's protests, he took a job in the Arabic service of the BBC and moved to London. He ultimately succeeded in coaxing his reluctant wife to join him, along with her children. So at nine years of age, Ghada set foot on English soil for the first time, the country which was to be her adoptive motherland.
Little Ghada was not at all unhappy to leave the house of her grandparents in Damascus, which was crowded with members of the joint family. The situation was further exacerbated due to the influx of more and more refugee members. Also, the country and the household was fairly traditional, more so than the relatively cosmopolitan Jerusalem. Girls were supposed to be subordinate, women had to cover their hair and one had to pray five times a day. So it must have been something of a relief to relocate to city like London.
However, Mrs. Karmi refused to accept it as home. In their small apartment in Golders Green, she "created a little Palestine" (in Ghada's words). Their house became a centre for all displaced Arabic people. Ghada's mother staunchly refused to learn English and to go out and socialise with the locals. She built a cocoon around herself and became totally insular. The author says this embittered her and from her expression in the photographs in the book, one would tend to agree with her.
Ghada's elder sister, Siham, was marked out to be a doctor: however, due to the subtle racial prejudice prevalent in British society, she could not get admission and ultimately chose chemistry as her vocation. Her brother Ziyad chose engineering, so Ghada was instructed to become a doctor by her father, even though her talent was more in literature and the humanities. But in an Arab family, you did not argue with the father – so a doctor she had to be.
Ghada talks of her school years in England as pleasant enough: racism, even though present, was basically an undercurrent. In fact, among the Arab Muslim and the Jew, the inherent racist bias was more against the latter. However, Egyptian president Nasser’s nationalisation of the Suez Canal on July 26, 1956 changed all that. Overnight, Arabs became barbarian aggressors in the minds of the British.
In school, Ghada began to be isolated more and more. One incident of outright bullying by a Jewish classmate, Zoe Steiner, almost ended in an incident of physical violence. Incidentally, it succeeded in sowing the seed of a crucial existential question in the author’s mind: was she Arab or English?
This dilemma persisted throughout her teens and twenties. On the one side, she was enjoying the freedom of a liberated woman, unthinkable in the Middle East: on the other, Arab nationalism and pride were being ground into dust by Israel and her Western allies. Ghada says that at this time, the existence of a country such as Palestine was unknown in England, and she had to lie about her nationality when questioned to avoid confusion.
At this time, a Pan-Arab movement was taking shape under the charismatic leadership of Nasser, watched warily by Israel. But Ghada had no time for politics because of two important events in her life – she graduated from medical school, and married a classmate (an Englishman) against her family’s wishes.
The marriage was doomed from the start. Ghada’s family (especially her mother) was unvaryingly hostile to John, her husband – all placatory efforts from his side proved futile. And Ghada’s slowly emerging nationalism as an Arab distanced them even more. But what brought things to a head was the six-day war of 1967 between Egypt and Israel which Israel won with ridiculous ease. This foreshadowed the shape of things to come in the area – unlimited expansion of Israeli borders with impunity. Naturally, Ghada was outraged but her husband was on the side of “plucky” Israel who won against enormous odds. She felt totally betrayed, and the rickety marriage collapsed a year later.
Now, in the final part of the book, we see a new Ghada Karmi: a proud Palestinian who has embraced her identity. After the collapse of her marriage, she continued working as a doctor, feeling more and more isolated from fellow Britons when the Palestinian Liberation Organisation entered the scene, under the charismatic leadership of Yasser Arafat. Their tactics of hijacking, bombing and isolated acts of violence against Israelites helped to bring international attention to the plight of Palestinians – it also dubbed them forever as terrorists. And being unabashedly Palestinian, Ghada was automatically stamped with the label.
After a frightening encounter with a group of Jewish doctors in 1971, Ghada decided to embrace the Palestinian Cause – and the PLO – fully. She established “Palestine Action” in England with a group of sympathisers and began to travel all over the Arab world, visiting Palestinian refugee camps and meeting leaders of the PLO. She also participated in protests and political action in England. Ghada describes the magical moment when she met Yasser Arafat, the legend, face-to-face. It seemed as though she had finally found herself.
However, by 1978, the PLO had been recognised by the world at large, and Arafat was seen as the leader in exile of the Palestinian nation. Ghada says she saw no need of continuing her organisation, as it had become redundant. She felt, like many other Palestinians, that the birth of a legitimate Palestine was only a matter of time.
But Israel had other ideas: it invaded Lebanon in 1978 and forced the PLO out of its Beirut headquarters. From then on, the organisation was always on its back foot, pressurised time and again by Israel until Arafat was forced to sign the Oslo Agreements of 1993 – in the eyes of Palestinians, a shameful capitulation. On the personal front, Ghada found it difficult to adjust to Arab society, especially women’s role in it – she says that as a divorcee, she was seen as fair game by men. The most she could hope for was to be a second wife to somebody, or secret liaisons with married men. By the 1980’s Ghada began to see that
…in effect, I had no natural social home in England or any other place. Did we all feel the same?.... When and where was their (her siblings’ and hers) real home?
To get to the root of the question, she had to
…go to the source, the origin, the very place, shunned fearfully for years, where it all began…
…that is, Israel.
The book concludes with Ghada’s 14 day visit to Israel in August 1991 (something denied to most Palestinians), which she could do because of her British passport. She was helped by her Israeli friends. Ghada was shocked at what she saw in “her” country: in her opinion, nothing short of apartheid practised by Jews on Arabs, a minority without voice in what had once been their country. Even though Ghada ultimately located her house (now occupied by strangers), it was “dead, like Fatima, like poor Rex, like us.”
The book ends on a positive note, however, as Ghada lies on her hotel bed in Jerusalem. Suddenly the call to prayer comes floating in through the window. The author says:
I closed my eyes in awe and relief. The story had not ended, after all – not for them, at least, the people who lived there, though they were herded into reservations of a fraction of what had been Palestine. They would remain and multiply and one day return and overtake. Their exile was material and temporary.
Ghada feels however that her personal exile is “undefined by space and time”, from where “there would be no return.”
***
Is this a great book? I cannot honestly answer in the affirmative. Ghada Karmi’s style is rambling, and one feels the book would have benefited from the services of a good editor. The author rushes off on tangents many a time without returning to where she started from.
The memoirs are so steeped in her feeling for Palestine and the outrage that they have suffered that the human touch is missing in many areas (especially where she is discussing relationships). Sometimes, one feels that she has to pigeonhole people (“my Jew friend”, “my Catholic colleague”) racially just to put things in perspective. Even her relationship with her husband and subsequent breakup is only superficially treated, other than as confirmation of her growing Arab identity and its incompatibility with the normal English milieu.
Most importantly, the metaphor of Fatima, as a symbol for the lost Palestine, never takes hold in the mind of the reader.
Still, this is a book which deserves to be read.
In 1969, Golda Meir said: “It was not as though there were a Palestinian people in Palestine considering itself as a Palestinian people and we came and threw them out and took their country away from them. They did not exist.” This was the fate of the Palestinians before the PLO entered the scene with their isolated acts of terrorism – total oblivion. The PLO made them crazed terrorists in the Western mind, which was better – at least they existed!
Of late, with the increasing demonisation of Islam and Muslims in general in the West, the Palestinians have been added to those evil beings like the Al Queida who deserve to exterminated, to make the world safe for democracy. One almost feels that the crusades never ended.
Well, my friends, Palestinians are neither mythical beings nor devils in human guise. They are a people who have been unjustly expelled from their home country to wander the earth as waifs, much like the Jews in previous centuries. They are human beings like you and me, who laugh, cry, eat, drink, love, hate, live and die. They do not get the justice they deserve: let them at least have a voice.
Ghada Karmi provides that voice. Listen to it. Even if it evokes a single tear from you for the suffering of fellow human beings, she would not have spoken in vain.
January 16, 2016
""Hitler should have finished the job," quote from the author in the book.
This is an anti-Semitic diatribe where the words "Jews" and "Israelis" are used interchangeably and hatred directed at both equally.
Further discussion of this book is pointless since quite obviously there is going to be no balance of any kind.
One thing I always wonder is this. When the land was partitioned by the British who had a Mandate to rule it (before that it was Turkish, and we are going back centuries), 70% of it was given to Transjordania, which was renamed Jordan. How come the Palestinians don't go on at Jordan to give back the land? It wouldn't be that the Jordanians are Muslim so that's all right then?
Just for the record, I am in favour of a joint state. All the children should grow up together and their children and maybe the great grandchildren would be able to live side by side enjoying each other's culture.
This is an anti-Semitic diatribe where the words "Jews" and "Israelis" are used interchangeably and hatred directed at both equally.
Further discussion of this book is pointless since quite obviously there is going to be no balance of any kind.
One thing I always wonder is this. When the land was partitioned by the British who had a Mandate to rule it (before that it was Turkish, and we are going back centuries), 70% of it was given to Transjordania, which was renamed Jordan. How come the Palestinians don't go on at Jordan to give back the land? It wouldn't be that the Jordanians are Muslim so that's all right then?
Just for the record, I am in favour of a joint state. All the children should grow up together and their children and maybe the great grandchildren would be able to live side by side enjoying each other's culture.
June 12, 2016
A very poignant memoir from a woman who lived through the Naqba and remembers Palestine before she was stolen.
December 28, 2009
I have offered this book to many friends so they could read about the Palestinian point of view. They return the book unread often saying it was "too depressing'. Really? Maybe that was the point, that losing one's way of life is beyond unsettling. If by posting this one person reads this exceptional story and develops feelings for the Palestinians, that would make me happy.
April 21, 2015
It is 2.20am. My eyes are stinging, its cold, i'm tired and my toddler will be waking me early. I wanted to go to bed hours ago. But this book wouldn't let me.I rarely give a book 5 stars but this one deserves it.
Since I was young I often dreamed of leaving the UK to live abroad somewhere exotic. These past few years I really didn't know what was keeping me here. Yet after reading this book I finally appreciate what I have. We may have no jobs, rubbish weather and Chavs in every town. Yet what we do have is a place to call home. This is My country. I was born here and I have my memories. I can go wherever I please. Revisit places I have seen, houses I have lived in. I can visit my friends I have known since childhood. Visit my relatives. Speak my own language and read the road signs. No one is going to put a gun in my face or live in my house. I am free. I know who I am and where I have come from.
Ghada karmi didn't have this. And perhaps she will never know who she really is. If you really want to know how it feels to have your country stolen from you. How it effects your choices and thoughts. How despite thinking it no longer effects you, has actually never left you. Then read this book.
Then do something, anything to try and help the Palestinians get back what is rightfully theirs. Because if we don't at least try to help. Then how can we ever expect anyone to help us?
Since I was young I often dreamed of leaving the UK to live abroad somewhere exotic. These past few years I really didn't know what was keeping me here. Yet after reading this book I finally appreciate what I have. We may have no jobs, rubbish weather and Chavs in every town. Yet what we do have is a place to call home. This is My country. I was born here and I have my memories. I can go wherever I please. Revisit places I have seen, houses I have lived in. I can visit my friends I have known since childhood. Visit my relatives. Speak my own language and read the road signs. No one is going to put a gun in my face or live in my house. I am free. I know who I am and where I have come from.
Ghada karmi didn't have this. And perhaps she will never know who she really is. If you really want to know how it feels to have your country stolen from you. How it effects your choices and thoughts. How despite thinking it no longer effects you, has actually never left you. Then read this book.
Then do something, anything to try and help the Palestinians get back what is rightfully theirs. Because if we don't at least try to help. Then how can we ever expect anyone to help us?
October 14, 2023
Ghada tells us her story from her childhood in Palestine, to her adolescences life in UK and then her university life. She takes us through her experience of losing a home, fighting to “fit-in” and then trying to find her rooots back. The story is amazing and it forces you to flip the page to know what would happen next. Definitely a must-read book if you want to know the story of Palestinian.
Being an Arab, we grow up feeling for Palestinians. We are taught by them, friends with them and now working with them. We can’t forget that its an Arab land that was taken away. This book, identifies why we have this passion back. It just heart breaking to hear the story all over again from a first hand witness and with such details. I cant imagine someone stealing a ring from me, what about my home, land and everything I own!!
Another thing that puzzled me and made me really ache, was that the one day enemies became the next day friends, and how can a story of people dislocated and killed be forgotten this fast!
I hope its translated into Arabic, and I hope every Arab reads it, because it just reminds us of a land we lost, and we are loosing daily. I also hope that Palestinians themselves will get their act together and find a way to get their land back, peacefully I hope.
Being an Arab, we grow up feeling for Palestinians. We are taught by them, friends with them and now working with them. We can’t forget that its an Arab land that was taken away. This book, identifies why we have this passion back. It just heart breaking to hear the story all over again from a first hand witness and with such details. I cant imagine someone stealing a ring from me, what about my home, land and everything I own!!
Another thing that puzzled me and made me really ache, was that the one day enemies became the next day friends, and how can a story of people dislocated and killed be forgotten this fast!
I hope its translated into Arabic, and I hope every Arab reads it, because it just reminds us of a land we lost, and we are loosing daily. I also hope that Palestinians themselves will get their act together and find a way to get their land back, peacefully I hope.
April 5, 2021
الكتاب عبارة عن عن سيرة ذاتية لحياة الكاتبة في قالب روائي. استمتعت بوصفها لتفاصيل حياتها مع عائلتها وأعجبتني طريقة كتابتها. تمكنت بشكل ناجح من وصف مشاعرها في كل فترة من فترات حياتها وكأنها تعايشها في اللحظة التي تكتب فيها تلك الكلمات التي تمكنت من خلالها من إيصال تلك المشاعر للقارئ. في الجزء الأول من الكتاب تصف الكاتبة حياتها في مدينة القدس ما قبل النكبة والهجرة. ثم تذكر بشكل تاريخي بعض الشيء كيف حدثت الهجرة وانتقالهم للعيش في بريطانيا والأحداث والمشاعر التي عايشوها. في الجزء الثاني من الكتاب وصفت حياتها في بريطانيا ونشأتها وانتقالها من مرحلة الطفولة إلى المراهقة ثم الجامعة. ثم في الجزء الثالث تحدثت عن زيارتها لفلسطين المحتلة والمسجد الأقصى ومنزلهم القديم.
عايشت الكاتبة تخبطاً في تحديد الهوية في مرحلة المراهقة والجامعة نتيجة نشأتها في بريطانيا منذ مرحلة الطفولة وشعورها بأنها إنجليزية أكثر من كونها عربية. الإنسان دائماً بحاجة للإنتماء ويبقى يبحث عما يلبي حاجته. اعتقدت الكاتبة بأنها إن شعرت بأنها إنجليزية وتصرفت وعاشت بهذا الافتراض فأنها بذلك قد لبت حاجة الإنتماء في ذاتها. لكنها بعد ما عايشته من أحداث ومواقف ومع مرور السنوات اكتشفت بأنها مخطئة وعادت إليها هويتها التي فقدتها. أعتقد أن ما حدث معها قد حدث لكثير ممن نشأوا في غير موطنهم الأصلي.
لم يعجبني وصفها للرجل العربي في خلال زيارتها للوطن العربي للمرة الأولى بعد هجرتها من ناحية سلوكه اتجاه الجنس الآخر. ربما قد تكون الكاتبة قد قابلت بعض ضعاف النفوس وحدثت معها مواقف جعلتها تتخذ هذا الموقف. وصفها جعلني أشمئز وأشعر وكأنه إنسان همجي يبحث عن فريسة لينقض عليها. كذلك في المقابل لم تذكر نماذج لرجال عرب ساندوها أو وقفوا معها مواقف مشرفة توصف بالشهامة والخلق والاحترام. ذكرها لتلك المواقف لم يكن له حاجة في سياق الأحداث وخارج عن هدف الكتاب.
نهاية الكتاب الذي وصفت فيه رحلتها في فلسطين المحتلة وزيارة للمدن القديمة جعلني أشعر وكأني هناك وجعلني أتمنى زيارتها في أقرب وقت أدعو الله أن نتمكن من زيارة فلسطين والمسجد الأقصى قريبا محرراً من أيدي اليهود
عايشت الكاتبة تخبطاً في تحديد الهوية في مرحلة المراهقة والجامعة نتيجة نشأتها في بريطانيا منذ مرحلة الطفولة وشعورها بأنها إنجليزية أكثر من كونها عربية. الإنسان دائماً بحاجة للإنتماء ويبقى يبحث عما يلبي حاجته. اعتقدت الكاتبة بأنها إن شعرت بأنها إنجليزية وتصرفت وعاشت بهذا الافتراض فأنها بذلك قد لبت حاجة الإنتماء في ذاتها. لكنها بعد ما عايشته من أحداث ومواقف ومع مرور السنوات اكتشفت بأنها مخطئة وعادت إليها هويتها التي فقدتها. أعتقد أن ما حدث معها قد حدث لكثير ممن نشأوا في غير موطنهم الأصلي.
لم يعجبني وصفها للرجل العربي في خلال زيارتها للوطن العربي للمرة الأولى بعد هجرتها من ناحية سلوكه اتجاه الجنس الآخر. ربما قد تكون الكاتبة قد قابلت بعض ضعاف النفوس وحدثت معها مواقف جعلتها تتخذ هذا الموقف. وصفها جعلني أشمئز وأشعر وكأنه إنسان همجي يبحث عن فريسة لينقض عليها. كذلك في المقابل لم تذكر نماذج لرجال عرب ساندوها أو وقفوا معها مواقف مشرفة توصف بالشهامة والخلق والاحترام. ذكرها لتلك المواقف لم يكن له حاجة في سياق الأحداث وخارج عن هدف الكتاب.
نهاية الكتاب الذي وصفت فيه رحلتها في فلسطين المحتلة وزيارة للمدن القديمة جعلني أشعر وكأني هناك وجعلني أتمنى زيارتها في أقرب وقت أدعو الله أن نتمكن من زيارة فلسطين والمسجد الأقصى قريبا محرراً من أيدي اليهود
May 17, 2010
This is a well-written book. While from a personal perspective it is also an excellent historical overview from the Palestinian point of view of the creation of the State of Israel. The author begins her story before the "nakba", terrible happening, when British forces in Palestine deserted the Palestinian people to the onslaught brought by the Jews. It ends just before the year 2000. For me, living currently on the African continent in an Arabic culture, it was helpful to reinforce some of things I have already known about Arab culture. For instance: In marriage personal feelings are not considered as important as the collective wisdom of the family. There are situations where a man taking a second wife can seem more merciful than divorcing the first one. Israel was created by the guilt of Europe (and America) over what blind eyes allowed to happen to the Jews. Unfortunately, two wrongs do not make a right. Good history from an unusual perspective. I recommend this book.
June 10, 2011
This is one of my favorite memoirs. Ghada Karmi’s story begins in Jerusalem where her Palestinian family is driven from their home in 1948. Karmi and her family end up living in exile in London, where the family longs for home and each family member copes in a different way.
Karmi writes about her lifelong quest for cultural identity, first as an Arab schoolgirl in London trying to assimilate, later as the wife of an Englishman, and finally as a Arab-English woman who returns to the Arab World as a physician and activist.
Karmi’s story culminates in her return to Jerusalem in 1998, when at last she seeks to find her childhood home that she was forced to leave in 1948. By weaving together Palestinian history with her personal family story, Karmi presents a Palestinian perspective that rarely reaches the mainstream. This memoir was published in 2002, but is as relevant as ever.
Karmi writes about her lifelong quest for cultural identity, first as an Arab schoolgirl in London trying to assimilate, later as the wife of an Englishman, and finally as a Arab-English woman who returns to the Arab World as a physician and activist.
Karmi’s story culminates in her return to Jerusalem in 1998, when at last she seeks to find her childhood home that she was forced to leave in 1948. By weaving together Palestinian history with her personal family story, Karmi presents a Palestinian perspective that rarely reaches the mainstream. This memoir was published in 2002, but is as relevant as ever.
May 5, 2024
A racist, bigoted author who is filled with utter hatred for Jews. When bullied by a Jewish girl, her response is "Hitler should have finished the job," but of COURSE, she's not Anti-semitic. When her mother meets Arab Jews, she yells at them for throwing her out of her home, even if they had nothing to do with it, but no, they don't hate Jews, of course not. Sick horrible book, a hateful diatribe of being a refugee with citizenship and a passport and seeing all Israelis are evil Jews. The book's words, not mine.
January 12, 2012
This book deserves 4-1/2 stars. It is probably one of the best memoirs I have read. The author does a really beautiful job describing the sense of dislocation, both geographic and emotional, that she and her family experienced when they left their home in Jerusalem in 1948. Each member of her famiy dealt with this wrenching loss in their own way and because the author was the youngest, and only a small child when they left Jerusalem, I think she experienced a great deal of confusion and no one seemed to realize that explanation or reassurance would have been a good thing for her (emotionally speaking). It was interesting learning about how she tried to find the place where she belonged -- and how she had the sense that she was an outsider in both British and Arab society.
I would recommend this book to anyone interested in reading and learning more about the Israeli/Palestinian history.
I would recommend this book to anyone interested in reading and learning more about the Israeli/Palestinian history.
August 29, 2013
I'm not yet done with the book, and not even half way through. However, the furiousness and anger I feel about it is immense. I live in the middle-east and I thought I knew all about it, but hearing from someone who had to go through it all is just..different. This is not a normal memoir of someone's life. It's a documentation of the displacement of a whole people and taking over their land by force and terrorism. I can't wait to finish the book and I recommend you read it.
December 23, 2014
A fascinating look at an immigrant Arab family in the UK in the 50s. Karmi, a physician turned activist, helped start one of the first pro-Palestinian groups in the UK in the early 70s. Her evocation—presumably based on interviews since she was so young—of the last days of Palestine before partition are excellent. Her description of her family’s difficult transition to England is the real strength of the memoir. Her best friends were Jewish, until the Suez Crisis when Karmi is saddled with support for Nasser. Her first marriage—much resisted by her family—to an Englishman who converts, collapses in the wake of the Six Day War. Her memoir is frustratingly blurry and hurried on what would have been an interesting account of the movement at a time when the PLO was known for audacious acts of skyjacking and civilian murder. She notes these as inexcusable, describes Munich as “shocking” but without criticism of the PLO’s blunders, tactical or moral. Ambivalent about Arab culture and unattracted to Arab men, she is equally frustrated with the Jews she encounters; some of her language betrays a borderline anti-Semitism. She calls the orthodox praying at the Western Wall an “alien horde”, responds to an anti-Arab Jewish bully with physical violence and “Hitler should have finished the job”—her family is proud of her assault—reproduces her family’s descriptions of the Jews as “cowardly” and “cursed” while insisting on the absence of anti-Semitism, and overall gives the Zionist project not. the. slimmest. shred of sympathy or understanding. The Fatima of the title is the faceless, fateless, peasant housekeeper of her childhood; indeed, it is an apt title since she romanticizes a Palestine that never quite was for her middle-class family, one of ennobled peasants, stoic traditionalists wedded to the land, a coherent cultural Arab Shire destroyed with malice in black and white by Orc-like Zionists (she actually describes seeing the Knesset building as “headquarters of Sauron”). She indignantly questions why Jews sing Hatikvah at weddings, why the British are wary of Nasser, and why Israel is applauded after the Six Day War, as if they were all mad, or at least inconsiderate of the needs of her Arab identity. I winced at her essentializing Arabness and her frequent racialized descriptions, noting how this or that Jews had “Aryan” features, or that an Israeli-identified man whose mother was not Jewish was not a “pure bred” Jew. If this is the most high-profile Palestinian diaspora memoir—besides, perhaps, Edward Said—I fear it offers a problematic and bitter portrait of Palestinian diaspora identity, one whose problems I fear will be lost on uncritical pro-Palestinian supporters and whose value will be lost on mildly pro-Israel Jewish readers.
January 5, 2024
Through recollecting her own life, Ghada created an important historical document, describing the everyday life in pre '48 Palestine and the early, little known events, that led to its occupation. She further eloquently and honestly described life in the diaspora, the struggle to fit it, sometimes at the cost of distancing from one's identity, and finding the way back.
This is a sad, important read, especially in the context of today.
This is a sad, important read, especially in the context of today.
May 28, 2013
I will not be doing the book justice because I have lots of ideas and emotions inside with little ability to translate them to words. The book wasn't a smooth read for me and I didn't want to finish with it. This happens whenever I read a book about the Palestinian cause- including my people's misplacement, exodus,sufferings, and uncertainties. Maybe because I know there will be no happy ending (so far) and that the book will end with the author's hopes of change and justice. In Search of Fatima is a memoir by Ghada Karmi, a dislocated Palestinian living most of her life in Britain. Her search for identity and belonging is daunting- causing her to psychologically suffer. She's suspended between two different cultures, belonging to neither. Her case is not individual since millions of Palestinians are scattered all over the world. The experience of exile has always had its advantages and disadvantages. One of the latter is knowing Palestine by memory only- mostly not their own but that of their parents and grandparents telling stories about their lost country. I think Fatima is a symbol the author has used to refer to the loss of Palestine. Ghada's return and quest for finding Fatima can mean Palestinians' return to their homeland. Ghada seems optimistic about this and about many Palestinians' affiliations to their cause and home but much less when it comes to the enigma of her own identity. Britain's stance towards the Palestinian dilemma is highly problematic- what with Balfour's promise, support of Jewish immigration to Palestine, with military and weaponry aid. Palestinians can never forgive Britain for this- planting "the root of the Jewish state" it's called. Britain to Ghada, beside what's mentioned, is a shelter, a place of good education and a civilized culture. Torn between these two facets of the same country, Ghada never feels settled. Her conflicting feelings and thoughts provide the readers with a glimpse of what it means to be a Palestinian in a human light that is rarely shown.
November 21, 2010
This book is a must for anyone interested in the current situation in the Middle East: it's engaging, humane, well-written and very informative. Ghada Karmi, a small girl in 1948, tells of her family's flight from Jersualem to Damascus and then to England, where her father worked for the BBC. Her parents never intended to settle in England permanently, but always planned to return to Palestine. Ghada, however, tried hard to become a "typical English girl" - quite a struggle in a society which, as she gradually realized, was unconsciously racist and entirely ignorant of her native culture. Surprisingly, this book is often quite funny, as well as moving and thought-provoking - Ghada's first experience of an English tea, for example, is unforgettable. I also found the ending (spoilers), in which Ghada returns to Jerusalem in order to try to track down her old nanny, Fatima, and her family home, absolutely riveting. You don't have to love history or politics to love this book. All you need is an open mind and an interest in people, cultures, families and how they interact. Highly recommended!
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
July 28, 2018
Ironic to see a review that takes a quote out of context to damn this book! The author is not anti-Semitic and her one racist remark is as a bullied teenager, and she later sees the error of her words. That aside, I didn’t find this well written and it was in many ways disjointed - veering from a personal story to one or a people displaced and/or living under apartheid - however it is an important story that needs to be read.
March 26, 2011
Although Ghada moved in 1949 to England living as a British girl, she became later loyal to the Palestinian cause. This book illustrates what the Palestinians who were expelled from their country in 1948 had to go through. Their whole life was affected. They had to look for another 'home' as they did not have access to go back to their home and country. All the contradictory facts and feelings which Ghada had to experience as a Palestinian and a British at the same time who suffered because of a promise given by the 'British' who did not own the country to give this country to the Jews.
A must read book for those interested in the Palestinians-Israeli conflict.
A must read book for those interested in the Palestinians-Israeli conflict.
March 16, 2012
This is an excellent memoir and explores the refugees' feelings of where exactly they feel they belong. There is also a lot of good info on the Nakba as she and the people around her experienced it. I recommend it for understanding the conflict, especially since it is a Palestinian voice (a voice rarely heard in the US).
December 11, 2012
This is a thick book that reads fairly slow. If you can get through it, though, the refugee's perspective of the Palestine/Israel conflict is worth the occasional yawn. This certainly wasn't the history of Israel I read about in high school and junior college.
May 27, 2015
Breaks your heart.
It does.
And leaves you yearning for something which you haven't even lost.
You actually feel the loss.
And it makes you understand the dynamics of the Palestine issue.
It does.
And leaves you yearning for something which you haven't even lost.
You actually feel the loss.
And it makes you understand the dynamics of the Palestine issue.
February 16, 2019
Picking up this book from the shelf was upon a recommendation.
Then I find myself involved in reading so eagerly to find what the end of this memoir would bring out, and couldn’t help but admire Dr. Ghada for her intelligence in dusting off her memories that were hidden in the deepest corner of her child mind, her courage to talk about details of her life, upbringing, family, and her true feelings.
I felt very grateful for her type of writing – this non-fiction truth-speaking, her honesty and eloquence in describing the stages her awareness went through while looking for her identity and cause.
I become very compassionate with her mom, who lit the idea of the resistance against injustice might come in different forms.
In briefly the nostalgia that Ghada brings in you with her memoir, couldn’t be described better by any words than the following extract from Mahmoud Darwish poem;
“He says: I am from there, I am from here,
but I am neither there nor here.
I have two names which meet and part...
I have two languages, but I have long forgotten
which is the language of my dreams.
I have an English language, for writing,
with yielding phrases,
and a language in which Heaven and
Jerusalem converse, with a silver cadence,
but it does not yield to my imagination.
What about identity? I asked.
He said: It's self-defence...
Identity is the child of birth, but
at the end, it's self-invention, and not
an inheritance of the past. I am multiple...
Within me an ever new exterior. And
I belong to the question of the victim. Were I not
from there, I would have trained my heart
to nurture there deers of metaphor...
So carry your homeland wherever you go, and be
a narcissist if need be/
The outside world is exile,
exile is the world inside.
And what are you between the two?”
Then I find myself involved in reading so eagerly to find what the end of this memoir would bring out, and couldn’t help but admire Dr. Ghada for her intelligence in dusting off her memories that were hidden in the deepest corner of her child mind, her courage to talk about details of her life, upbringing, family, and her true feelings.
I felt very grateful for her type of writing – this non-fiction truth-speaking, her honesty and eloquence in describing the stages her awareness went through while looking for her identity and cause.
I become very compassionate with her mom, who lit the idea of the resistance against injustice might come in different forms.
In briefly the nostalgia that Ghada brings in you with her memoir, couldn’t be described better by any words than the following extract from Mahmoud Darwish poem;
“He says: I am from there, I am from here,
but I am neither there nor here.
I have two names which meet and part...
I have two languages, but I have long forgotten
which is the language of my dreams.
I have an English language, for writing,
with yielding phrases,
and a language in which Heaven and
Jerusalem converse, with a silver cadence,
but it does not yield to my imagination.
What about identity? I asked.
He said: It's self-defence...
Identity is the child of birth, but
at the end, it's self-invention, and not
an inheritance of the past. I am multiple...
Within me an ever new exterior. And
I belong to the question of the victim. Were I not
from there, I would have trained my heart
to nurture there deers of metaphor...
So carry your homeland wherever you go, and be
a narcissist if need be/
The outside world is exile,
exile is the world inside.
And what are you between the two?”
July 20, 2020
[4/5 stars]
I still feel like I am in a daze after finishing this book. I've been taking my time to get through this memoir slowly, but even then, reading it was truly draining, so I can't even begin to imagine how it was for thousands of Palestinians to actually live through those events.
I learned a lot after reading this book. The whole Palestine and Israel conflict always confused me. I watched videos and read texts explaining how it came to be, but it was really helpful to look at this conflict from a more personal lens. I now started to understand the involvement of the Britain army (and how irresponsible Britain was in this whole ordeal), but I still don't fully grasp it entirely and why it still continues to be a conflict. I would like to look into it more.
After looking at the title, I initially thought this book would be about a family going back to their hometown, but this memoir was more than just that. This book tackles the events of this long-standing conflict, what it means to come from an Arabic and Muslim background, and most importantly, it is a story of a Palestinian family that was forced to flee their country and leave everything that they cherish, and even part of their identity, behind, in order to be safe.
It is a tragedy that still exists to this day.
I still feel like I am in a daze after finishing this book. I've been taking my time to get through this memoir slowly, but even then, reading it was truly draining, so I can't even begin to imagine how it was for thousands of Palestinians to actually live through those events.
I learned a lot after reading this book. The whole Palestine and Israel conflict always confused me. I watched videos and read texts explaining how it came to be, but it was really helpful to look at this conflict from a more personal lens. I now started to understand the involvement of the Britain army (and how irresponsible Britain was in this whole ordeal), but I still don't fully grasp it entirely and why it still continues to be a conflict. I would like to look into it more.
After looking at the title, I initially thought this book would be about a family going back to their hometown, but this memoir was more than just that. This book tackles the events of this long-standing conflict, what it means to come from an Arabic and Muslim background, and most importantly, it is a story of a Palestinian family that was forced to flee their country and leave everything that they cherish, and even part of their identity, behind, in order to be safe.
It is a tragedy that still exists to this day.
September 30, 2025
This is a brilliantly written book. Blending memoir with the historical context of the time made it both educational and deeply moving. Whilst it took me a while to get into it, mostly due to its length, I found this a powerful read- particularly as it was published in 2002.
Not only did this detail the events leading up to the Nakba, but it also touched upon the subsequent years in Palestinian and broader Middle Eastern politics, contextualising the feeling of displacement the author had in the UK.
This is still hauntingly and distressingly ‘current’ 22 years after publication and a reminder that this has been going on for over 75 years. I would thoroughly recommend this book to people wanting to learn more about the creation of Israel from the perspective of a Palestinian, and it also offers a deeply emotive exploration of the feelings of being forced to live away from your home you cannot return to.
Not only did this detail the events leading up to the Nakba, but it also touched upon the subsequent years in Palestinian and broader Middle Eastern politics, contextualising the feeling of displacement the author had in the UK.
This is still hauntingly and distressingly ‘current’ 22 years after publication and a reminder that this has been going on for over 75 years. I would thoroughly recommend this book to people wanting to learn more about the creation of Israel from the perspective of a Palestinian, and it also offers a deeply emotive exploration of the feelings of being forced to live away from your home you cannot return to.
July 27, 2024
So glad I read this! This memoir was so interesting and also explained really well the major historical events that happened in Palestine starting with the Nakba! From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free🇵🇸
August 22, 2024
Sehr interessant, bisschen chaotisch am Anfang und zwischendurch mit einigen Zeitsprüngen und Flashbacks. Der Schreibstil ist nicht sehr besonders aber dafür ist dieses Buch nicht da. Spielt sich vor 50 Jahren ab und ist leider immer noch aktuell
September 28, 2025
A very honest and self aware memoir. The author does not shy away from admitting her own shortcomings in embracing her heritage and her journey into activism is fascinating. She confronts her experiences of straddling two cultures in England and figuring out her relationship with Palestine since her expulsion during the first Nakba. The book provides a powerful reflection on identity and displacement, capturing the devastating feeling of belonging nowhere.
March 1, 2024
This memoir left me speechless and took me a while to digest each chapter and moment; because it’s a lot. The sense of loneliness coupled with a lost feeling of nostalgia that can never be satisfied is how Ghada portrays her feelings. Her sense of identity is stripped multiple times as she tries to navigate through life and find her sense of self and belonging, only to be left feeling out of place and unwelcome both by her friends and family alike.
This book is such an important read especially now as history repeats itself. Many times in this book I questioned if I was in fact reading events pertaining to what is happening to today, which gave me such a sense of hopelessness for peace to happen.
This book is such an important read especially now as history repeats itself. Many times in this book I questioned if I was in fact reading events pertaining to what is happening to today, which gave me such a sense of hopelessness for peace to happen.
November 9, 2014
Ghada Karmi is an authentic voice that gives the reader an examined and intimate look at Arabian, English, Palestinian/Israeli relations from the point of view of a displaced Palestinian. ISoF provides the context for more closely looking at a current incidence of colonization, and broadens one’s perceptions of Palestinians that are better and more humanely portrayed than our current misperceptions of them as, “Arab refuges, extremists or Islamic terrorists.” p. xv.
Ghada Karmi views the overtaking of Palestine by Israelis as a consequence of the Jewish Holocaust and therefore the narrative as one necessary to be told as a sequel to this horrific historical event.
There is a very good balance between historical fact and the psychology of displacement.
It also touches on the background to the Suez Canal Crisis and the Munich Olympics of 1972 and gives a brief overview of the development of the PLO.
Due to my own ignorance, I thought that the setting for this book would have been the Gaza Strip. I am very thankful to Ghada Karmi for expanding my socio-political understanding of this complex issue.
I recently attended a presentation by monitors from the organization Ecumenical Accompaniment Programme in Palestine and Israel. Their website is at http://eappi.org/ .
They gave the attendees a close look at the near Third World living conditions of many Palestinians. They addressed the issue of what it is like to stand in line for checkpoints. Most of those who have to leave their Palestinian areas for work in Israel have to pass through checkpoints where they have to arrive three hours early in order to ensure their getting to work on time. And they covered several other issues as well.
Ghada Karmi views the overtaking of Palestine by Israelis as a consequence of the Jewish Holocaust and therefore the narrative as one necessary to be told as a sequel to this horrific historical event.
“Why should we pay for what you Europeans did to the Jews? It’s not fair! If you’re so sorry for them, why not have them all here or give them a part of Germany? That would surely be just, wouldn’t it? And why didn’t you and the Americans take them in when they were in trouble in the 1940’s Why ease your consciences at our expense?”
There is a very good balance between historical fact and the psychology of displacement.
It also touches on the background to the Suez Canal Crisis and the Munich Olympics of 1972 and gives a brief overview of the development of the PLO.
Due to my own ignorance, I thought that the setting for this book would have been the Gaza Strip. I am very thankful to Ghada Karmi for expanding my socio-political understanding of this complex issue.
I recently attended a presentation by monitors from the organization Ecumenical Accompaniment Programme in Palestine and Israel. Their website is at http://eappi.org/ .
They gave the attendees a close look at the near Third World living conditions of many Palestinians. They addressed the issue of what it is like to stand in line for checkpoints. Most of those who have to leave their Palestinian areas for work in Israel have to pass through checkpoints where they have to arrive three hours early in order to ensure their getting to work on time. And they covered several other issues as well.
August 1, 2008
This book is the account of the life of Ghada Karmi, who was exiled at the age of 9 from her homeland, Palestine, after the creation of the state of Israel. It is told in a very simple, straightforward manner -- Karmi is no magician with words -- but I did find it interesting. As an Arab who is always wondering how we got ourselves in the mess that we are today, I found her descriptions of Palestinian society just before 1948 to be a real eye-opener ... they seemed to pretty passive in front of the increasingly daring Zionist attacks on their city, looking to the British occupiers to save the day. I'm not sure if she intended to paint such a picture, but it was clear lesson nonetheless that those who don't take hold of their own destinies can expect their destinies to be determined by others.
I enjoyed reading about Karmi's girlhood and young womanhood in part to compare it with my own growing up in the West. She moved to London at a time when few Arabs or Muslims lived there, and so had a greater struggle holding on to her identity. She also gave me a peek into how much of their heritage more secular Arabs hold on to when they adopt the West as their home. While there were a lot of differences between her experience and mine, I was surprised to see similarities as well. For example, she describes being angry at her father's attitude that she would be just another Arab girl by default, as if her childhood years in England were just a garment she could shrug off. Boy, did that remind me of my own frustrations as a young woman! Of course, there is one key difference, a very sad one, that I was able as an adult to go back and live in the land of my parents, whereas she was not and probably never will -- though perhaps there is hope for her young nieces and nephews.
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