Palestinian Remembrance: The Enduring Impact of the Nakba

Bloke Mazen El-Khairy wasn't even a decade old when he and his kin were kicked out of their home in Ramle, Palestine, takin' everything they had with them. The raw emotion of the Nakba, where an estimated 700,000 Palestinians were sent packin' from their homes, is still as clear as day in the old fella's memory, aged 86. "The current state o' affairs ain't nothin' but the continuation of what transpired back in '48," he quips with a grim smirk.

As he flicks through pages of his old photo albums, Mazen El-Khairy wistfully recalls the days gone by. "This here's my grandpa's mansion," he says with pride. It were a grand abode, nestled among orange groves on a hill close to Ramle, a place they called home. "We were livin' a normal life."

At that point in time, Palestine were under British rule and ol' Mazen's pop was the commissioner for the Jerusalem district. "When the British buggered off on May 15, 1948, we scooted back to Ramle," he reminisces from his Montreal apartment.

The UN had planned to create two separate states in Palestine – one Arab, and one Jewish. But as soon as the Brits took a powder, war broke loose and brawls started eruptin' around Ramle, a sector that were to be part of the Arab state.

The Arab Legion, Jordan's army under British command, were in the area as reinforcements. One day, Mazen's pop and grandpa themselves hightailed it to Amman to ask King Abdullah of Jordan to beef up support for the Palestinians.

"King Abdullah used to camp out at my grandpa's pad every time he headed to Europe, 'cause they took the boat from Haifa," Mazen recalls, drawin' our attention to another photo, a keepsake from that bygone era.

Buggered Off

Ramle and its twin city, Lydda, came under siege by Israeli forces. On July 11, 1948, Lydda fell after an ugly fight, and the city were splattered with blood.

That same night, a high-level powwow with several military bigwigs was held at Mazen's grandpa's house, who had been mayor of Ramle for more than 20 years. "I remember that meeting personally. At the end, all the chiefs said: 'We'll stand firm, we won't give in.' "

But in the hours that followed, the Arab Legion toppled, surrenderin' Ramle in the process. "Even though the city were completely blockaded, [the Transjordanians] managed to jet off from Ramle that night," Mazen mutters bitterly, alludin' to the agreement that would've been struck between King Abdullah and Israel.

Under the command of Isaac Rabin, Israeli forces then stormed Ramle. "My grandpa told us: 'We were under the British before, now we're under the Israelis.' "

But the next day, loudspeakers blared messages throughout the city, orderin' the thousands of residents of Ramle to skedaddle. Each family could bring nothing but one bag.

"On July 13, durin' Ramadan, they took us in trucks and buses and dumped us off at the demarcation line between the Transjordanian army's territory and the territories Israel had conquered," Mazen remembers.

Israeli soldiers prevented them from walkin' on the road. "We had to bugger off into the wilderness. The soldiers were firing into the air to make us run. It were a godawful sight," the old-timer mutters, his face still etched with shock.

Like countless other residents of Ramle, Mazen and his family were exiled to Ramallah in central Cisjordania. They then found themselves slidin' into the city of Gaza. And the conquered cities of Lydda and Ramle became Lod and Ramla in Hebrew.

Back Home

In 1997, the bloke returned to Ramle for the first time with his wife, Najat El-Taji, their four kids and their first granddaughter. For Najat, also of Palestinian descent, it were her first trip to the land of her ancestors.

At the end of the '30s, her grandpappy had hightailed it with the fam to Cairo. "He had a hunch that Palestine would never be the same. He wanted to craft a new temporary life for his family in Egypt."

This temporary life became permanent. "We couldn't hoof it back to our lands. [I grew up bein'] truly attached to Palestine, but I didn't even know what it truly were," Najat sighs.

It were only after obtainin' their Canadian citizenship that Mazen and Najat decided to show their kids where they originated. Upon arrival at the Ramle manor – now transformed into a mental health care facility – a security guard refused 'em access to the residence.

"I told him: 'We've traveled eight thousand kilometers to be here. You took the manor by force in '48. We're not here to reclaim it. We just want to visit. Where's the crime?' " Mazen recounts, his voice crackin'.

The cops were called in. An old bloke – near providential – then appeared, sayin': "I knew your grandpa when I were a boy. Come in." With his blessin', the family were able to poke around the residence, piece by piece. "The piano which my mother and aunts used to plink on were still in the same spot," Mazen marvels.

Around the terrace, which was located on the roof, the trees – small when Mazen lived there – had grown to mature size. "The view was breathtakin', fiercely beautiful," he enthuses. "And I was there with my granddaughter, who tottered on the terrace by herself."

A poignant image that the family couldn't repeat at the manor of Najat's family, also situated in the Ramle region. "We weren't allowed to enter," she says. The residence now housed the Israel Institute for Biological Research.

Nightmares

Today, it's as if history's repeatin' itself, reckon Mazen and Najat. "Even when I'm havin' the worst nightmares, I couldn't have imagine it would happen," Mazen says, referrin' to the risks of famine, the 55,000 deaths, and the displacement of the population in Gaza.

In '48, an "ethnic cleansin'" happened in Palestine, he rails, and another bein' carried out. For Najat, there can be no doubt that we're witnessin' a new Nakba. "That don't mean we deny the Holocaust," she assures. "What transpired to the Jews is fucking terrible, but that don't justify them doin' the same to others."

And especially, "that they've got the balls to say: 'This is our land, not yours,'" she spits, right in the midst of these photos – evidence of what were taken from their families.

A dozen artists denounce Ad Litteram's practicesThe record label is criticized for lack of transparency and payment defaults.

Xi asks Trump to change courseThe disputes between the two rival powers go beyond the trade war.

Quebec reopens a door to permanent immigrationThe Quebec Skilled Worker Program was under a moratorium since last October.

To watch in video

Mazen El-Khairy's progeny returned to Ramle, Palestine, in 1997, a place that once was home, but was now a mental health care facility.
For Najat, Palestine was the land of her ancestors, but her grandfather had to migrate to Cairo at the end of the '30s due to war-and-conflicts, fearing that Palestine would never be the same.
The old man's voice cracked as he recounted how they were forced to leave the residence, having travelled eight thousand kilometers, only to face denial of access and the need to call the cops.
As the current state of affairs continues what transpired in '48, Mazen and Najat ponder on history repeating itself, with the risks of famine, deaths, and displacements in Gaza, parallel to the ethnic cleansing that happened in Palestine and the ongoing disputes between rival powers.