An attempt to make you read Ghassan Kanafani

I've been thinking a lot about the Palestinian genocide this year, and I began reading the works of Kanafani a couple of months ago.

For some background, Ghassan Kanafani was a Palestinian writer, teacher and activist. He experienced the Nakba (mass expulsion of Palestinians from their homes in 1948) firsthand at the age of 12, and this defining event of his lifetime informed much of his work. His family found refuge in Syria, where he studied Arabic literature before beginning his career as a writer.
In 1972, whilst turning on the ignition of his car, a bomb planted by the Israeli intelligence agency Mossad exploded. He died at the age of 36, alongside his 17 year-old niece, who was accompanying him at the time.

Kanafani's voice is incredibly precious to me. He's one of the few literary remnants we have from one of the most significant events in contemporary history, and I find his writing is the embodiment of the inherent grief and melancholy of postcolonial literature. He writes with pain and emotional weight, but this passion is tempered by his appreciation for the importance of subtlety in writing fiction that is of heavy political weight.

I think his works, particularly Return to Haifa and The Land of Sad Oranges are testament to the importance of postcolonial fiction; it helps honour and even resurrect the voice, identity, and culture lost to imperialism.

Before I finish this post, I'd like to leave you with an insight from Pulitzer-winning Hisham Matar:

“It is difficult not to see the assassination of Kanafani as yet another attempt to obliterate the Palestinian narrative, to make true the claim, made by the Israeli politician Yigal Allon after 1967, that Palestinians no longer exist, for if they did, they would have produced literature.”

Yes, you read that right.

"Palestinians no longer exist, for if they did, they would have produced literature.”

So, if you have some time, I implore you to read some of Kanafani's work. Read his work, and, in doing so, you will serve to remember, preserve and honour the voices lost to imperialism. Read his work, and gain a deeper appreciation for the importance of literature and the weight of words.