When the declaration of the Palestinian independence was announced in 15 November 1988 in Algeria, the dream of liberation became a step closer. We were in the middle of the first Intifada and the stories of of our heroic resilience were impressive even to us. We really believed that it was time for liberation. After living a whole life, (I was fifteen back then) under occupation, only commemorating one misery after another, it was time that we have a good Palestinian day.
With its good and worse, this day became a symbol.
However, independence never came even though a state has been declared in a similar symbolic empty setting, this time in the UN.
As I am looking at myself , three times older than that day when the independence was first declared , I bow down my head with disappointment that continued to impose itself on the Palestinian living hood since Oslo.
Sometimes I try to justify what took place ,that resulted in Oslo , sometimes I think it is ok that we ,the people who never left this country ,neither voluntarily or by force, where always privileged in the sense that we never tasted the sour feeling of diaspora . But apparently, the diaspora we imagined was not the diaspora that the people in what became the Palestinian authority lived in. it is not the poor people of the refugee camps , whose lives only became more and more miserable and intolerable with time .
It sounds like gangsters in the disguise of a national movement hijacked us, as a nation. No matter how I try to make things look normal, adjustable to our lives. No matter how I try to make this process of the so-called Oslo anything that can give a Palestinian statehood. Anything that can make us a nation … a nation that was lost since Oslo.
Before the “Independence”, our life had a shape of a life of people who struggled for liberation, but we were one nation, one people. Even the relationship with the Israelis was better. Our worst nightmares were flying checkpoints who became permanent. And we were so spoilt we were throwing stones and burning wheels and going in demonstrations ,and the Israelis only hit us and smashed urn legs and occasionally killed some .
Our life was a life of a people who sincerely strived from existence. A life of people whose cause is the cause that is so just it split the world and no power was able to diminish it or its people ….
All these years later …
We are still under occupation …
Killing became a way of living … children are sentenced to jail …if lucky not to be killed …. Oppression continues… colonial settlement is inside our neighborhoods.
Our leadership struggle to keep its own existence. All about certain people.
The homeland became each one’s own house and family.
Religion, political affiliation became the cause …
On this day, we are celebrating the defeat of our own cause ….deliberately …………
In addition, at this moment in life…. We are all partners in this crime. Because there are no more secrets hidden, and there is no more unknown to be discovered…. Just our continuous defeat