The West Bank and Gaza

The West Bank. Gaza. No, it’s not a country—that’s part of the point, right? Both are claimed as part of the Palestinian territories, but their political status has been the subject of constant back-and-forth. Nonetheless, today marks the anniversary of the day 1988 when the Palestine National Council declared the independent state of Palestine—and it’s a holiday in Gaza and the West Bank. 15 November. While an official status has yes to be decided, let’s mark it.

These days the administration of the territories is split—Hamas controls Gaza, and the Palestinian National Authority is still administering the West Bank. This of course complicates this situation further, as neither recognizes the authority of the other. In the mean time, there’s also the question of whether or not Israel can annex sections of the territories.

Know the Green Line? That’s the generally accepted boundary between the West Bank and the Gaza Strip, and the State of Israel. Where does it come from? From the 1949 Armistice Agreements, which ended the 1948 Arab-Israeli War. At that time they were specifically labelled armistice lines and not international borders.

Oh—and the flag? In 1967 Israel banned the Palestinian flag. Since 1993 the ban has been relaxed, but that doesn’t mean it’s gone.

And human history? I feel like I can’t even go there! Remembering is so long.

Instead I’m going to get straight to the poem. By Waleed Khazendar. “A needle and angels.”


A needle and angels

Not only this evening
but usually, about this time, the trees slacken:
when we come closer to the waves
and the lights are lost in darkness
and the sun becomes a red island at the end of the sea.

It is not only when you reach a hand to me
and adjust—at about this time—my collar,
that I remember I am distracted and distant
and that I still keep the lights on
afraid of my grandmother’s ghoul,
but also when I stray in your hands
as you line demons on my pillow
and mend my buttons
with thread and needle and angels.

—Waleed Khazendar
from A Crack in the Wall: New Arab Poetry (2001)
translated by Khaled Mattawa