War Dream

I dreamt war last night. I have never been in a real war situation, but now I still know a little bit what it feels like. Strange how dreams can teach you about feelings you've never had.

There were bombs everywhere. I saw houses get hit by rockets. They burnt. People ran. I wondered how many were inside the burning houses. I had an amazingly clear understanding of the fact that it could as well have been me inside those houses. I ran. Everybody ran, and there was nowhere to go. This all-consuming feeling: imminent and unavoidable danger and no escape. The one thing I knew for sure was that there was not a single safe place around. Nowhere to hide. You could only run, and hope and pray that nothing hit you.

I can still vividly recall the feeling, that desperate and inescapable fear.
I read the news, 18 civilian Lebanese killed today as they fled their village (on the command of Israel, who said the whole village would be demolished unless they left immediately), southern suburbs of Beirut bombed (what about the Palestinian refugee camps in the area? Bourj el-Barajne? Sabra and Chatila? Are they ok?), a gas station near the Palestininan refugee camp Ein el-Helwe in Saida set on fire, and so forth and so on, I read the news, I see the pictures of unimaginable destruction, the videos of rockets falling and setting things on fire, and I remember all too well that nightmare feeling of desperate and inescapable fear.

I can cope with that fear - I could just wake up. Easy as that. Wake up, and realize you are safe and sound in a peaceful European city full of tapas and music. And then you go to a fancy conference, drink your coffee with Important Scholars who talk enthusiastically and in a way too happy voice about the Psychology of Terrorism even though they have never set their foot anywhere near the hell the Palestinians are living through. "I have some interesting contacts, I even know a man who went to Gaza once! And the Shin Bet will maybe help us finance the project! This kind of research has never been done before, it's so great!" Well fuck you, go there yourself and maybe you will understand some of the Psychology you pretend to know so well, and then maybe you will stop talk about Terrorism and instead start concentrate on justice.
(I wish I had said that to this completely ignorant American professor - who even explicitly admitted he was completely ignorant after I told him some facts about Palestinian life - "Oh you are so knowledgable, I had no idea! It's so great meeting people like you who know about these things!" - and then he ended the conversation and was not the least interested to know more.)

I woke up, and I'm safe. It tears me apart knowing that millions of people cannot wake up, that they just have to life through it, if they stay alive at all.

I talked to my friend Mohammed in Rashedie on MSN yesterday, and I asked him how things were.
"We are listening to the music of shooting," he said.
And I cried.


(Photos from Rashedie, taken by me in March 2005)