Sumud
RESISTANCE IN DAILY LIFE
Toine van Teeffelen and Fuad
Giacaman
In: Toine van Teeffelen (ed.)
Challenging
the Wall: Toward a Pedagogy of Hope. Culture
and Palestine series, Arab Educational
Institute, Bethlehem.
Hope can
find powerful expression in symbols. Gaining
a central place in Palestinian political
discourse during the 1970s, the symbol of
sumud (steadfastness, persistence,
endurance) points to two characteristics
that can be ubiquitously found among
Palestinians in Palestine and elsewhere: On
the one hand, preserving deep roots in the
homeland; on the other, stubbornly going on
with life and keeping hope for the future
despite all the adversities that are faced,
including occupation, discrimination,
expulsion, and international negligence. At
its core, sumud refers to the refusal
to give up on Palestinian rights and
dignity. Despite sumud’s focus on the
here and now, it bespeaks the vision of a
human and just solution to the
Palestinian-Israeli conflict.
A typical
artistic expression of sumud, found
in a great many Palestinian paintings and
logos, is the image of the olive tree with
its roots deep in the land and a life span
stretching over hundreds of years. The
Palestinian mother is also a characteristic
symbol of sumud: she is said to
protect the home and cultural
identity while at the same time transmitting
to new generations the quiet power of
people’s persistence. Sumud has deep
spiritual and social sources of inspiration
that include the history and memory of the
Palestinian national struggle but also other
cultural and social sources. Think about the
influence of religion, which gives to many
Palestinian Muslims and Christians a deep
motive to continue to live and to struggle.
Religion sustains essential values of care,
connectedness, and solidarity without which
sumud cannot exist. The Palestinian
family and community are probably the most
important sources of steadfastness because
of the supportive social environment they
provide. Challenging the isolation in which
many Palestinians find themselves, the
ongoing expressions of international
solidarity provide another essential source
of inspiration and support. Despite the
severe internal difficulties Palestinians
presently face, the joint influence of
memories of the Palestinian struggle,
spiritual sources, the family, the
community, and international solidarity
nourishes the inner strength and the inner
peace that are so necessary for people to go
on with their outer struggle and daily
commitments.
Historical background
Initially the symbolic use of sumud
was rather top-down, official. In 1978, the
term was given to a fund in Jordan that
collected contributions from Arab and other
countries to support the economic conditions
of Palestinians in the occupied territories.
As a motto in speeches and political texts,
sumud served to bring out the defiant
spirit of Palestinians living in Palestine.
With its ‘inside’ perspective and focus on
staying on the land, it was felt to
complement and enable the struggle of
Palestinians from the ‘outside’ to return.
One reason for its appeal was the fact that
the Zionist movement, from its beginnings
on, has marginalized or negated the presence
of Palestinian civilians on Palestinian
land. The practice and communication of
sumud have enabled Palestinians to
oppose this aim or tendency.
In addition
to being a symbol or motto, the notion of
sumud has been employed for more
analytic purposes as well: to refer to a
stage of grassroots institution-building in
the occupied territories at the end of the
1970s and the first half of the 1980s. This
stage was said to be primarily aimed at
keeping people and communities on the land
in defiance of the wave of new settlement
building in the occupied territories and
Jerusalem that was conducted at the time by
the new Israeli Likud government. The
somewhat defensive sumud stage was
distinguished from, and seen as a
preparation for, the more challenging stage
of nonviolent struggle against the
occupation that started with the first
Intifada in 1987. In looking back to the
recent history of the Palestinian movement –
in Palestine, but also in Palestinian
communities in Israel and in exile (to which
we cannot pay attention here due to lack of
space) – the symbol of sumud
expresses the value of staying put while
confronting an overwhelmingly stronger
military and political force.
As any
national symbol, expressions of sumud
face the risk of becoming ‘frozen’ and
rhetorical. But it is our contention that it
remains a very relevant concept for a
hope-based nonviolent strategy, certainly so
at a time when Palestinians are pushed once
again, even literally, to stand with their
backs against the ‘wall’. The main reason
for the usefulness of the sumud
concept is that it puts common citizens
center-stage. Nobody is excluded by the
concept of sumud, which is a
characterization of, and an appeal to all
Palestinians. It is the Ramallah-based
lawyer Raja Shehadeh who brought the concept
from a rhetorical level down to the
realities of civilian life under occupation.
In his 1981 diary, The Third Way,
he situated the meaning of sumud in
opposition to two extremes. On the one hand,
the samid (the steadfast person)
refuses to accept or become subjugated by
the occupation, whereas on the other hand,
he or she refuses to become dominated by
feelings of revenge and hate against the
enemy. In fact, Shehadeh seemed to present
sumud as an example of life against
two kinds of death – a death from inside and
a death from outside. In his writings,
sumud expressed citizen agency; the will
to carve out an existence and a home – not
necessarily through heroic actions but in a
spirit of human dignity.
A
democratic concept
The form that Raja Shehadeh gave to his
understanding of sumud is
significant: a diary. A diary is not the
vehicle of speeches or rhetorical symbolism
but rather conveys the rhythm of ordinary
life. Within the diary genre it is possible
to recognize the various voices and stories
that show how Palestinian citizens persist.
Although there are certain prototypical
stories of Palestinian sumud – for
example, the man or woman who stands in
front of the bulldozer and refuses to go
away, or the family who rebuilds its
‘illegal’ home for the fourth time – the
most salient feature of the concept is
simply that it can be realized in
innumerable different ways. With all its
difficult demands, sumud is a
democratic concept that allows for
participation in diversified meaning-making.
The concept
can be employed to point to typical
Palestinian realities that every person will
experience in a slightly different manner.
Think about the very common feeling among
Palestinians of being continuously tested;
the ongoing guardedness against misfortune
despite fatigue; the bittersweet happiness
after having tricked a soldier at a
checkpoint; the abovementioned connectedness
to community and family life as ultimate
sources of rest and nourishment in the eye
of the storm. The stories of such
experiences have a typically Palestinian
feel. Many diaries that depict life against
the odds – such as the various published
diaries from the time of the prolonged
curfews in the West Bank, 2002–2003
– at times convey not only an understandable
rage but also a tragic-comic, even absurdist
mood. The diaries picture realities in which
everything that is normal becomes abnormal,
and vice versa. Going to school, finding
work, traveling outside town – all tend to
become personal or family ‘projects’ that
require flexible planning, uncommon
imagination, and enormous endurance.
Given the
absurd reality, the diaries sometimes bring
to mind a broader literary genre that
centers on the naive anti-hero who manages,
often in seemingly funny ways, to preserve
humanity while living the ‘normal abnormal’
daily life of conflict, war, and occupation.
Examples are the Czech ‘good’ soldier
Schweyk of Jaroslav Hasek, or, in the
Palestinian context, the Saeed character in
Emile Habibi’s novel, The Pessoptimist.
It is no coincidence that dry humor is an
essential part of this genre. Despite the
dire situation, the steadfast, too, feel the
need to laugh. Humor creates lightness in an
unbearable situation. It may even be part of
a kind of silent communicative code among
those who share similar experiences. Edward
Said once wrote in a travel reflection that
Palestinians employ a code that is only
known among Palestinians.
If such a hidden code exists, it will surely
express those various shades of life, barely
perceptible to the outsider but typical for
the sumud stories.
The most
fundamental value of a diary is honesty. It
is, of course, a most difficult value to
realize. In fact, in later diaries Shehadeh
showed himself to be slightly skeptical
about the concept of sumud precisely
because he felt that it can become a rather
meaningless symbol that is distant from the
all-too-human realities on the ground.
Truth, being open to reality, is essential
to keep focus and clarity. A diary can show
ambiguities and doubts but, if true to its
form, remains focused on a reality not
blurred by excessive fears, uncontrollable
anger, or wishful thinking. Any hope to
bring to life a new reality should go
through the detailed observation and
understanding of the existing reality. That,
too, is part of the groundedness of sumud.
Social
functions
In its communicative expressions, such
as in diaries, sumud can fulfill
different social functions. The stories of
sumud provide a learning moment for
anybody who wants to read about, listen to,
or view the Palestinian experience of daily
life. The stories may elicit a liberating
laugh for the reason mentioned above – such
as Suad Amiry’s diary Sharon and My
Mother-in-Law. They can inspire people.
Communicating daily life experiences can be
consoling, as morning coffee meetings among
Palestinian staff who have been traumatized
by the experience of being closed up, or the
stories told in the teachers’ room of
Palestinian schools or in the evening among
the family. They can enrage when they
describe routine humiliation and oppression.
But whatever their impact, the stories are
typically dialogical in the sense of being
oriented towards sharing experiences and
informal learning.
If we use
sumud as an umbrella term for the
stories of daily life under occupation,
oppression and dispersion, we should also
not forget that these stories – together
with letters, interviews, and whatever comes
to us on the Internet – are significant
sources for future historical documentation.
They show the small stories and memories
woven on the threads of the national
Palestinian story. The sumud stories
are excellent materials for learning about
Palestinian identity and the reality beyond
the very general lines of history. Oral
history projects that bring out the details
of daily life in the past and allow for
surprising cross-connections with the
present are an example. Collecting and
understanding sumud stories are
active ways to engage the learning process,
in and through the community, and can thus
contribute to new ways of education. They
show the diversity of the Palestinian
experience within an overall connectedness
and national unity.
Sumud
invites Palestinians to learn about the
identity of the land through the little
stories of the land and its beauty, such as
the memories and stories of people and
communities living on it; the popular
practices on/in the land including
agricultural work, religious worship, and
traveling; and the meaning-making associated
with those practices. Hearing about,
discovering, and also reconstructing the
detailed stories of the land are types of
learning about Palestinian identity and
roots that are not usually provided in
formal education.
Sumud
as resistance
But there is a question posed by many.
If sumud is a positive expression of
the continuity of the many different threads
of Palestinian society, history, and
relation to the land, how then do we look at
the discussions among Palestinians that have
frequently flared up in the past and have
cast doubt on sumud as an expression
of national resistance? Is keeping on with
daily life not different from actively and
nonviolently challenging the occupation?
Does sumud not come close to the
‘survival mode’ – just preserving life
without nourishing the desire to change the
oppressive reality? Is there no need to add
an adjective to sumud so as to give
the concept a more challenging and dynamic
quality, as provided for instance by the
expressions ‘resistance sumud’ or
‘active sumud’?
Sumud
is a struggle to preserve one’s home and
daily life. For Palestinians, home is
usually an extremely precarious reality,
often put in question or brought under legal
or military pressure. A not uncommon
Palestinian experience is to literally
become an exile in one’s own homeland. The
very effort of preserving one’s home and
going on with ordinary life can be viewed in
the Palestinian context as a refusal to give
up on one’s home and a willingness to make
sacrifices. In brief: to exist, to go on
with daily life, is to struggle.
But, again,
is sumud in its meaning of living
such a struggle similar to sumud as
‘resistance’? The notion of ‘resistance’
implies the development of a broader view
that goes beyond preserving daily life and
keeping one’s head high. In fact, viewed in
a more critical light, the sumud
struggle can seem to point to a rather
inflexible defensive and protective posture,
reminiscent of the hardiness, the ‘steeling’
property of a peasant culture with its
somewhat inward orientation towards ‘staying
where you are’ and ‘never giving up’.
Sumud points to a stubbornness born out
of a history in which, each time anew,
conquerors and occupiers took control over
Palestine and in which common people had to
find ways to protect themselves against the
dominating powers. Without many other
options than staying on the land, the
sumud of peasants can be extremely hard
to break but may also have been tactically,
inspirationally immobile.
We think
that this criticism holds true, by and
large, especially at a time when means of
communication and mobility are radically
different from the past. Staying sumud
in the Palestinian land should not
necessarily mean staying wherever you are.
In fact, doing so can sometimes be a
maladaptive response (called ‘perseveration’
in psychology). This is especially so when
there are no conditions that allow one to
stay put in a meaningful way, or when there
is a better way to contribute to the
community’s overall persistence by taking on
another role or position. Examples are not
difficult to find. A study or work
experience abroad may do wonders for
Palestinian youth who want to make a
creative contribution to the national cause
(even though the experience of not being
able to find appropriate work or study in
one’s homeland is deeply disturbing in
itself).
It should
thus be possible to define the qualities of
sumud in different ways, less purely
affirmative and defensive, and more flexible
and dynamic (and containing even ‘light’ and
‘humorous’ ingredients). Such qualities are
perhaps more suggested by another word also
used to characterize the Palestinian
mentality: ‘resilience’ – the veering back
from adverse experiences. From the
perspective of protecting the community and
maintaining a presence on the land, sumud
can be viewed in the context of a resilient,
pro-active advocacy that uses the powers of
modern means of communication.
As a form of
resistance, sumud can, for instance,
be shown to take on a more energizing,
challenging, and imaginative view of the
concept of home, or of the practice of
making a home, or of giving new meaning to
home while protecting it. A home or the
daily-life environment that characterizes or
surrounds the home can be recreated for
tactical purposes in a struggle against
expropriation of land and the building of
the Wall. For instance, the nonviolent
movement in the village of Bil’in to the
west of Ramallah used to place playground
tools in front of the bulldozers and the
soldiers in order to show how the building
of the Wall there jeopardizes the fabric of
daily life. The movement also put caravans
on land that was threatened to be disowned
or excluded. House and home can be moved to
the ‘frontline’ as part of a challenge. Less
courageous but also extremely valuable is
the documentation and publishing of home and
daily life under threat of disappearance,
such as in the form of family stories and
family trees available on the Internet.
Other
inspiring and imaginative examples of a more
‘mobile’ expression of the spirit of
sumud can be taken from the artistic
sphere. Take the following description of
the painting The New Walk of Samira
Badran:
In her piece
almost five meters long, The New Walk,
meandering images of artificial limbs
reflect on the universal conditions of
oppression in face of the onslaught of
man-made tools and barricades, which result
in all forms of incarceration. In this work
the prosthesis is a metaphor for the
indomitable spirit of the Palestinians who
seem always to find alternate routes to
crossing barriers. The congested artificial
limbs – some broken, others bandaged – do
not beg for sympathy, instead their
seemingly frenzied march portrays boundless
determination and resilience, a tribute to
the Palestinians’ steadfastness in the face
of military and political domination, and
that despite all constraints, they continue
to cross artificial boundaries and
barricades.
Here the
essence of steadfastness is seen as the
ability to keep the spirit moving on,
crossing boundaries along alternate routes,
despite pain and sacrifices.
Another
point is in place here. Much of the value of
the spirit of sumud is related to its
communicative power. Communicating Palestine
by showing practices of sumud helps
to provide a human image of Palestinian
reality that breaks through the familiar
media stereotypes of passive or angry
victimization and terrorism. Showing and
communicating sumud thus contributes
to the important task of creating an
international image of Palestine that is
beyond rhetoric and seen from an internal
Palestinian and human perspective rather
than interpreted and distorted by others.
Comprehensive contrast
An active understanding and communication of
sumud apply to the so-called sumud
peace house, which AEI-Open Windows has
opened opposite the northern watchtower at
Rachel’s Tomb in Bethlehem. The Wall there
snakes through the area of northern
Bethlehem in such a way that the
neighborhood has lost its vigor and life.
Families move away whenever possible. How
can local people resist a Wall? At first
sight there is no way. A wall is not an
adversary; it is a block of concrete. As it
once was said, the only thing you seem to be
able to do after the Wall is erected and you
live inside, is to walk around in circles
like mice. In fact, one reason that the Wall
has been built may well have to do with the
reduction of human contact points between
Israelis and Palestinians (from the West
Bank), because such contact points are
essential for any active and challenging
forms of nonviolent resistance, individually
or collectively.
Active
resistance while in confinement may thus
sound like a contradiction. However, through
the peace house and similar initiatives near
the Wall another ‘contact point’ is created
– one between humans/humanity and the Wall.
Sumud can be communicated directly in
front of or even on the Wall through any
media genre or practice that one can think
of: diaries, video, film, visual memories,
drama and plays, (inter-)religious rituals,
traditional customs and festivals, even
dinners. By communicating daily life and the
‘art’ of life lived against the odds, normal
life is put in opposition to the oppression
of the Wall. By showing, even celebrating,
life and by creating and reclaiming spaces
of life next and in opposition to the Wall,
the relation between human life in Palestine
and the Wall is defined as one of
comprehensive contrast. Think about a piano
concert under the military watchtower with
children around, or a Rap concert next to
the Wall, or artistic, festival-like life
that is created near a house surrounded by
the Wall on three sides (as is the case with
the house of the Anastas family opposite
Rachel’s Tomb). Performance artists often
make use of contrasts to create surprising
effects. Here Sumud will communicate
to a worldwide audience contrasts between
beauty and ugliness; fragility and
massiveness; dignity and disdain;
thanksgiving and military arrogance; voices
and suffocation; life and death. Essential
to this resistance is communicating a
reversal of the Israeli image of the Wall as
a protection of Israeli daily life against
Palestinian violence. Instead, the Wall is
shown for what it is – the killer,
expropriator, and divider of Palestinian
life, land, and community. The involvement
of media, including the use of media by the
civil community itself, will be extremely
important. Publicity about sumud
practices is needed to shame the adversary
as long as he persists in disregarding the
humanity of the other. Of course, the final
goal of the nonviolent struggle cannot be
other than the removal of the Wall itself,
making possible the concrete vision of a new
reality.
Mezzaterra
There is also another, final side to
sumud. Even with the Israeli adversary
it is desirable to have human relations, if
only to challenge him or her to help end the
occupation; to jointly see the possibility
of a different reality – a transformation of
the status quo on the way to equality and
justice -; and to allow for honest (self-)
criticism. For Palestinians, the Wall kills
communities by separation. Refusing that
separation, an initiative such as the
sumud peace house is designed to be an
open house, a place of conviviality and
sharing food, and thus a sign towards peace
– in line with the slogan: “Not walls, but
bridges.” The house will point to
liberating, border-crossing experiences to
some extent characteristic for that
neighborhood in the past, when many Israelis
used to come over to shop or visit a
restaurant (even though Israeli-Palestinian
interaction under occupation has inevitably
been tainted or corrupted by power
inequality). The concept of sumud
will be applied in an open-minded, flexible,
imaginative way. The house’s activities,
including in the field of inter-religious
encounters and prayers between Muslims,
Christians, and Jews, will aim to create a
mezzaterra, an inter-zone, in which
surprising connections will help to create a
different order and community life, and defy
Israel’s obsession with separation.
We started
with the statement that symbols can
contribute to or express hope. But as we
tried to make clear, the attractiveness of
the concept of sumud is located in
the fact that it not only touches a basic
Palestinian ‘snare’ but also that it is
potentially much more than ‘just’ a symbol,
left to be admired but out of touch with
lived realities. In our opinion, it can best
be realized by living and communicating
people’s experiences in daily life in both
its embodied and spiritual-imaginative
dimensions. The practice of sumud
helps to communicate people’s and citizens’
voices, open up the diverse memories of the
land and its people, and make the nonviolent
struggle to preserve home and community
against occupation more deep and
encompassing. Last but not least, it shows
the human dignity of a people that has been
continuously dehumanized, here and
internationally. Sumud is a choice
for renewal of life.
Dr Toine van
Teeffelen is a Dutch anthropologist who
conducted studies in discourse analysis.
Living in Bethlehem with his Palestinian
wife and children, he is development
director of the Arab Educational Institute
and the editor of its Culture and Palestine
series.
Fuad
Giacaman is co-founder and general director
of the Arab Educational Institute in
Bethlehem. After teaching various subjects
at different schools in Bethlehem, he was
principal of the Bethlehem Freres School
from 1992–2000. He is active in various
projects that promote the activation of
youth and women.
See: Raja Shehadeh, The Third Way: A
Journal of Life in the West Bank.
Quartet, London, 1982
See: Suad Amiry, Sharon and My
Mother-in-Law, Ramallah Diaries, Granta,
London, 2005; Mitri Raheb, Bethlehem
Besieged: Stories of Hope in Times of
Trouble. Fortress Press, Minneapolis,
2004; Raja Shehadeh, When the Bulbul
Stopped Singing: A Diary of Ramallah
under Siege. Profile Books, London,
2003; Toine van Teeffelen, Bethlehem
Diary: Living Under Curfew and
Occupation 2000-2002. Culture and
Palestine series, Bethlehem, 2002. See
also the diaries developed as a result
of some Bethlehem based projects:
Susan Atallah and Toine van Teeffelen (eds)
The Wall Cannot Stop Our Stories: A
Palestinian Diary Project. Terra
Sancta/St Joseph School for Girls,
Bethlehem, 2004.
Toine van Teeffelen and Susan Atallah,
When Abnormal Becomes Normal, When
Might Becomes Right: Scenes from
Palestinian Life During the Al-Aqsa
Intifada. Culture and Palestine series,
Arab Educational Institute,
Bethlehem, 2001.
Emile Habibi, The Secret Life of
Saeed: the Pessoptimist. Translated
by Salma Khadra Jayyusi. Interlink World
Fiction Series, Northampton, MA, 2001
Edward Said, photographs by Jean Mohr,
After the Last Sky: Palestinian Lives.
Columbia University Press, New York,
1998.
This Week in Palestine, ed. 114, October 2007.
