About a year ago, Hamas militants attacked the Re’im music festival, causing the death of 364 people. In addition, Hamas took 40 hostages. Since this tragic day, the Israeli Defense Forces (IDF) have killed 42,612 Palestinians.
There is no doubt that Oct. 7 was a tragedy. There is no reason as to why Hamas targeted a music festival. There is also, however, no reason as to why the IDF has killed such a large number of Palestinians in revenge. Nor is there a justification as to the 9,440 Palestinian hostages that Israel took, either.
Both the IDF and Hamas commit atrocities every day. The IDF blames Hamas for the destruction and Hamas blames the IDF. It is a blame game on people’s lives, and this constant shifting of the message is preventing the progression towards a ceasefire and peace.
This conflict has recently worsened for civilians in the area with Iran’s barrage on Israel and the IDF’s invasion of Lebanon. The more people getting involved, the more destruction that occurs, the more pain civilians have to suffer through and the more that my ancestral land is destroyed.
A common argument used against the establishment of a Palestinian state is that there was a ceasefire on Oct. 6, which is not true. In fact, 3 days before the massacre on Oct. 7, 3 Palestinians in the West Bank were killed by the IDF.
The true story behind this bloody conflict actually starts 76 years ago, with the Nakba. What is the Nakba? The Nakba is essentially the Israeli version of the Trail of Tears, forcing Palestinians out of their homes so that settlers could instead live on those lands. The British government touted this land as being a land without people, which was not true.
I asked 100 LSU students if they knew anything about the Nakba, and to my surprise, 5 students knew about the Nakba, with 2 of those students being able to explain to me what happened on that day. Unfortunately, it isn’t surprising that this isn’t taught in American schools. These are the same schools that still teach that Christopher Columbus was merely an explorer and not a genocidal conqueror.
With that in mind, this article exists to educate others on the events of the Nakba. Many survivors of the Nakba had their whole culture erased, hence why some describe the Nakba as an ethnic cleansing. However, the Nakba was more than that. It was a genocide.
Unfortunately, since the Nakba was in 1948, most of the survivors have died. I pondered how to approach this subject for some time until I called my father, who informed me that my grandmother was alive during the Nakba. He told me some of the basic facts of her experience, but I decided to interview her about her experiences and what her parents had to go through.
My sito (grandmother), Nadia Essa, 78, was born in Jerusalem, Palestine. She was just 2 years old during the Nakba and her whole family was forcibly removed from their home in Jerusalem.
“Initially, my family welcomed the Israelis with Arab hospitality,” she said. “They broke bread together, drank tea together, and we were at peace.” Then, in 1948, an Israeli gang came to her family’s house. “My mother told me that a gun was put on my father’s head, threatening to shoot if we did not leave.” she said. She then later explained that they evacuated to Jericho, Palestine.
Six years later in 1954, the Israelis further settled the area, including the city of Jericho. She was 8 years old at the time, and was again, forced out of her home. The difference this time was that she remembered what happened. They were given only one hour to move all of their belongings out of their home. One hour, to uproot their entire life, everything they had built and worked for.
After this exodus from Jericho, she and her family fled to the country of Jordan, where she was given refugee status. Eventually, she became a citizen of Jordan, and according to her, the Palestinians who were forced to leave their homes in Palestine and fled to Jordan were given Jordanian citizenship. And with that, their culture and the title of their home was erased. That day, an entire family of Palestinians became Jordanians, and their former selves, erased.
In Middle Eastern politics, Palestine is being used as a pawn, because despite Arab culture emphasizing brotherly love, and the Arab nations claiming to support greater Arab unity, these principles rarely apply to Palestine. This is particularly visible in Egypt, which has consistently refused to open its borders to Palestinian refugees, even refusing them refuge in the Egyptian city of Rafah, which is directly adjacent to the Palestinian city of the same name.
My grandmother’s case, wherein she obtained citizenship from Jordan, is rare. Jordan no longer offers citizenship to fleeing Palestinians. Jordan ceased to offer citizenship to Gazan refugees in 1967, citing a litany of logistics and political reasons. One of the primary reasons cited is the economic impact of allowing in new Palestinian refugees, as Jordan is a relatively poor country by international standards. However, the economic argument falls apart in the case of Saudi Arabia, which is ranked 18th globally in terms of GDP. Saudi Arabia has the ability to accept these refugees, and yet, they don’t.
A clear example of the hypocrisy of the Arab world’s proclaimed support for Palestine is visible in the Manama Declaration. Passed at the 2024 Arab League Summit, it calls on a UN peacekeeping mission to be deployed to occupied Palestinian lands, an immediate ceasefire and a lasting resolution to the conflict. These reasonable ideals are fantastic on paper, and yet when Palestinians inevitably require aid in fleeing genocide and oppression, their “brothers” are nowhere to be found.
Writing this article was a significant labor, one of the greatest labors I have undertaken for a piece of writing. I struggled to interview my grandmother, separated by language. I grappled with my own perspective, my passionate support for my family and their homeland, which conflicts with my pragmatism and desire to see a realistic and achievable peace. And, just a few days before completing this article, I shattered my wrist. And yet, despite each setback, I felt a deep desire to keep pushing, to ensure that this story could be heard.
For decades, the Palestinian people have been an endangered nation, perpetually at risk of being wiped off the map. Yet they persist. They persist for their homes, land and the opportunity to live their lives in peace and prosper.
So what is the point of this article? This article is my plea for peace in the region. To end Israeli apartheid, for reparations to the Palestinians who were displaced to be made, and eventually Israeli and Palestinian people to come together, hand in hand, and develop a working society together, instead of separated.
“We are the children of all the survivors, justice will shine on,” Armenian-American activist and musician Serj Tankian sang in his song, Justice Will Shine On.
Andrew Sarhan is an 18-year-old mass communication freshman from Baton Rouge, LA.