Dear
Mrs. Laura Bush,
I
read with great sadness the comments you made about your lack of
sympathy for Palestinian mothers.
Palestinian
mothers live their lives in total misery, pain and fear for their
children that are either hungry, in prison or may never return. They
endure occupation, poverty, humiliation and the killing of their
children and husbands, but they continue on. All of this pain is more
bearable than the outright negation of their motherhood by comments
like yours and those of our media.
You say it is “so easy to empathize with Israeli families” that
are afraid to send their children to a grocery store or bowling alley.
What about innocent Palestinian children who are starved, humiliated
or killed under the only occupation remaining on earth? Aren’t
children all worthy of love, happiness, and sympathy regardless of
their religion or ethnic background?
How
can you then say, “Can I empathize with a mother who sends her child
out to kill herself and others? No.”? Were your eyes not filled with
tears, and your heart filled with agony at the pictures and stories of
Palestinian children buried alive under the rubble of their homes in
Jenin and Nablus? Were you not as outraged as the rest of world at
Israel’s success at defying the international community by blocking
the inquiry into what Amnesty International called “clear evidence
of war crimes”?
Why
could 462 Israeli reservists, who are career Israeli soldiers,
sympathize with the suffering of Palestinians, but you can’t? Did
their courageous statement “We shall not continue to fight beyond
the 1967 borders in order to dominate, expel, starve and humiliate an
entire people” not compel you to think: What makes teenagers, who
are supposed to be full of adolescent self absorption, shallow egos
and worries about the next pimple appearing before the prom, decide to
kill themselves and others in such a painful and horrific way?
The
answer, Mrs. Bush, is a ruthless 35-year-old occupation that continues
to rob people of their dignity and denies them their basic human
rights. The vast majority of Palestinian mothers - and I - do not by
any means condone the killing of innocent people on either side. But
to stop these desperate acts we must address the human rights and
security of Palestinians and Israelis.
I
am sure that, in your days as an educator, you taught children that
stereotyping and collective characterization of an entire people as
being faceless statistics is a very dangerous thing that leads to
horrific acts like the Nazi Holocaust. Mrs. Bush, you too handed out
the collective punishment of marginalizing and dehumanizing all
Palestinian mothers for the actions of a few desperate people.
For
Palestinian American mothers, it is especially painful when the First
Mother of the United States of America dismisses our ability to be
loving and nurturing mothers. I want to tell you about Palestinian
mothers, for I speak from experience.
I
am a Palestinian American mother, my mom was a Palestinian mother, and
so was her mom and so on. I know first hand the amount of love and
caring that Palestinian mothers try to give their children under the
most extreme of circumstances.
My
mother and several others in our town took all of the children to
caves in the mountains during the 1967 war to protect us from
potential massacres like Deir Yassin. My mother stayed up all night
when one of us was sick. She cried when we were late from school for
fear that soldiers had arrested us. She panicked when one got hurt
playing outside. She stopped her social life completely when we had
exams, she stayed up making tea and snacks as long as we were
studying, and gave us hell when our grades were not up to her
standards.
My
mother dressed us in our best clothes to visit our Palestinian
Christian friends to wish them a happy Easter or Christmas, carrying
all kinds of gifts and goodies. Christian Palestinian mothers did the
same during our holidays. Our Christian friends complained about their
Palestinian Christian mothers not allowing them to eat ice cream cones
in front of us during the month of Ramadan, because we were fasting.
My
mother taught us by example the duty and honor of respecting and
caring for our elders. She took excellent care of her immobile
mother-in-law; our Palestinian grandmother. She fed and bathed her;
she put arthritis cream on her aching body; she stayed up with my
grandmother all night when she was too scared to sleep during the war.
My
mother fell into a deep depression and her health spiraled downwards
when her oldest daughter married an Arab American and moved far, far
away to America. She swore she would never let me do the same, but
then she willingly broke her own heart to allow me the opportunity of
a good education in a safe environment. She was willing to cry over my
departure every day until we reunited, to save me from going to a
Palestinian university where soldiers attack on a regular basis
whenever there was a student protest against the occupation.
My
mother lived a horrible childhood, she and her family became refugees,
fleeing their home in Jaffa in 1948. She went back with us some twenty
years later as a tourist from the West Bank and knocked on the door of
her old home asking if she could go in and take a quick look. The man
that opened the door said no, but the Israeli mother said yes. Mom
sobbed the whole time we were there, and so did we.
On
the way out, as my little brother reached for a lemon from an old
lemon tree, the man yelled at him. My mother shouted back “How dare
you yell at him for picking a single lemon from a tree that was
planted by his grandfather?” The Jewish mother seemed embarrassed by
her husband’s actions. My mom signaled “thank you” with her red
teary eyes and a nod of her head.
I
did not understand at the time why the Israeli mother allowed Arab
strangers in her home, nor why my mother was thanking her for allowing
us into our grandfather’s house. I was not a mother then, which is
why I did not understand. The lady did not speak Arabic and my mom did
not speak Hebrew, they both spoke a Universal Motherly Language that
goes straight from the heart, bypassing vocal cords and lips. Now I
speak the Universal Motherly Language, so I understand!
My
mother sounds great, doesn’t she? She certainly does not fit the
profile of a mother raising her children to blow themselves up and
kill other civilians. If she did, why bother with education or good
grades? The truth is, she is very ordinary and typical of the vast
majority of Palestinian mothers, who dedicate their entire lives to
their children’s health, education and safety. If you ever get the
chance to go and visit them in their homes you will have nothing but
admiration and respect for their miraculous dedication and
perseverance, much like mothers all over the world.
The
author encourages your comments. Please e-mail her at nahed4peace@yahoo.com
This
article was originally published in YellowTimes.org. For a complete version, please view source www.yellowtimes.org
