Develop An Essay Which Reconsiders The Notion Of The Postcolonial.

Elias Khoury's Gate of the Sun: Reconsidering the Post-Colonial.

'I'm scared of a history that only has one version. History has dozens of versions, and for it to ossify into one leads to death.You haven't ossified into one story. You're dying, but you're free, free of everything'. These words, spoken by Khaleel to his comatose mentor Yunis encapsulate the struggle at the heart of Gate of the Sun (1998); the struggle simultaneously to come to terms with the history of the Palestinian people while resisting the temptation to distil that history into one universal narrative. The solution to this challenge that the novel suggests lies in the process of storytelling, through which Elias Khoury allows his narrator to assimilate a multitude of Palestinian narratives; not with the goal of creating one grand history, but in order to try and write into the spaces that a universal narrative cannot provide. This essay will seek first to define the type of colonialism present in Israel and the Occupied Palestinian Territories (OPT), and then to interrogate the ways in which Khoury's novel interacts with these definitions and how it examines the consequences for the Palestinian people. 'We discovered our nation when it nearly was no more.' Israel, Palestine and the History of Colonialism. Gate of the Sun is a novel in which Khoury demands a detailed knowledge of the history of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and its repercussions for countries such as Lebanon. In general critical discussion three types of colonialism appear frequently, with important differences. These are: colonialism, post-colonialism and neo-colonialism, and are defined as follows: Colonialism: 'The colonial system, now frequently used in a derogatory sense of an alleged policy of exploitation of weak peoples by a large power, the settlement of people in a new location.' Post-colonialism : 'The fact or state of having formerly been a colony; the cultural condition of a post-colonial society. Neo-colonialism: 'The use of economic, political, cultural or other pressures to control or influence another country, especially the retention of influence over a developing country by a former colonial power.' However, in examining the three definitions above, it is clear that the situation facing the people of Israel and Palestine does not truly match any of them due to the unique socio-political situation in the region, and the complex history of the conflict. This is because the Palestinian people find themselves in an exceptional colonial situation in which they are colonised, experience the effects of post-colonialism, and live under a partially neo-colonial system simultaneously. It would seem therefore that any writing about the Palestinian people will necessarily involve a reconsideration of the notion of post-colonial, and what this reconsideration tends to lean towards is a type of occupational totalitarianism, combined with a settler colonialism that is different to the traditional European model. Crucial to the discussion is Giorgio Agamben's theory of the 'State of Exception'; this concept, Agamben argues, allows for: A modern kind of totalitarianism, established through a state of exception in which civil war is given legal grounding, aimed at allowing the state the power to respond to perceived threats with inhumane force in the name of the "public good". The state of exception is not a special kind of law, but is in fact the suspension of juridical order itself.

This "state of exception" is used by the Israelis to, in Stephen Morton's words, 'normalise the abuses of power', abuses which relocate Palestinians and suffocate their political voice. There are two major side-effects to the state of exception and Israeli normalisation of its status as occupier: violence and the domination of space, both of which are discussed in Khoury's novel and explain his fear of Palestinian eradication. This fear is described by Khoury as the driving impetus for writing Gate of the Sun, as he said that: 'We live in an oral society that doesn't write things down, my fear has been that our present and past are facing extinction'. Violence is the most obvious threat to Palestinians, and the setting of the novel in Shatila is no coincidence, as it was here that one of the most heinous examples of Israeli- sponsored massacres took place. Yet the more subtle threat to a Palestinian future is the Israeli domination of land. Here, a quote from a former Israeli head of state Ariel Sharon can perhaps best encapsulate the threat to the characters in Gate of the Sun. Sharon, who was proven to be the architect for the Sabra and Shatila massacres by the Kahan Commission , said during his tenure as Minister of Defence that: 'when you know every hill and orchard, when your family is there, and your children go to school there, that is when you have power'. This quote shows that while the reality of Israeli intention is a colonial one, determined by what Godi Algazi refers to as: 'facts on the ground; people occupying and conquering space', the intentions of this Israeli form of colonialism are radically different from the traditional model. This is because Israeli action is not based in economic exploitation or the extension of an ideology, but is instead concerned with marginalisation, moving Palestinians out of land to the fringes in order to conduct a cartographic restructuring that supplants Palestinians with Israelis. Gate of the Sun can be viewed as an attempt to resist this normalisation of abuse and domination of space, and the remainder of this essay will focus on the ways in which Khoury speaks to the marginalised Palestinian population, without falling into the common traps of belligerent nationalism or over-generalisation. 'The victorious write history and the defeated tell stories'. The Contest Between Affirmation and Denial in Palestine. In 1917, the Balfour declaration saw one nation guarantee the territory of another to a third party. Since this moment, as Edward Said puts it, the 'question of Palestine becomes the contest between an affirmation and a denial'. Gate of the Sun is littered with such affirmations and denials of Palestinian existence and attempts to expose the denials from the Israeli side while simultaneously affirming Palestinian identity in order to alleviate the collective burden of the "Nakba". Denials of Palestinian history and existence in Gate of the Sun tend to focus primarily on the loss of property and land. When considering this denial, it seems that one character in particular, Umm Hassan, is of exceptional importance. This is because of Umm Hassan's representational status, first hinted at by the fact that "Umm" in Arabic literally means mother. Frederic Jameson said of "third-world (sic)" texts that: 'the story of the private individual destiny is always an allegory of the embattled situation of the public third world culture and society'. While Gate of the Sun resists the idea of "one history", Umm Hassan, a midwife, does seem to acquire status as the representative matriarch of a country that the children she delivers may never know. On the first page we are told: 'we called her mother because everyone born in Shatila camp fell from their mother's guts into hers.no-one doubted Umm Hassan because she always told the truth' (3-4). Here, Umm Hassan takes on a parental status as she combines both honesty and care, and we come to see her as representative of pre-Nakba Palestine, proven when Khaleel confirms that: 'Umm Hassan taught me everything about Palestine' (22). Umm Hassan's story is important to Gate of the Sun as she symbolises a lost past which survives only through her stories, and her experiences reflect the traumatic denial of Palestinian existence. In the text there is one particularly crucial denial of Palestinian existence that happens to Umm Hassan and which develops the idea that colonial Israel is a place of unusual cruelty, spawning a confusing and at times farcical reality. In one of the book's memorable passages, Umm Hassan returns to her ruined village of El Kweikat to find it largely destroyed. What property does remain lies in the hands of another, and life continues as normal for the new Israeli inhabitants. Initially we are told: 'my father used to grow watermelons, after the Israelis moved in, the watermelons belonged to Israel' (94), yet the expropriation of property does not end there, as Umm Hassan returns to her home to find an Israeli woman living inside. This experience is a Palestinian literary trope, expressed by poets such as Walid Khazender, who communicates the hideous invasiveness of the law of absentees. In his poem 'Belongings', we see the lines: So who came into my room? Who And who'll put the vase back exactly As it was? (ll. 11-13).

These lines are eerily similar to Umm Hassan's experience of returning to her house to find that an Israeli woman is in possession of her jug, sleeping in the bed she had lain in with her husband for many years and using the house which she had built from the ground up. The emotional impact of this is evident at the end of the passage, as: 'Umm Hassan wept. She sat in the sitting room and wept. Nothing was left of El Kweikat' (100). Here, the phrase 'nothing was left' is resounding as it shows that while Umm Hassan's house may still be there, the world that she used to inhabit has vanished, and all that is left is small mementos of a lost existence. Gate of the Sun is a novel in which small objects acquire huge significance; such as the jug, a set of keys to a house you no longer own, or flowers with the scent of a country that is no longer yours. Flora is a key signifier of the lost Palestine, and the text contains many images of decaying and rotting flowers that show difficulty of preserving the past. Khaleel speaks of his grandmother stuffing pillows with flowers to try and preserve old Palestine, yet he tells us how 'the pillow turned into a heap of thorns.I'd lay my head on the pillow and smell decay' (33). This, paralleled with Umm Hassan weeping at the loss of her village, shows the painful and dreadful consequences of loss as the Palestine fades away and those who knew it die off, leaving a young refugee population whose only inheritance is the pain of loss. To combat the dissolution of Palestine through Israeli denials Gate of the Sun asserts Palestinian existence, and in the novel this assertion comes about through storytelling and the creation of new Palestinian spaces free from totalitarian occupation. Khoury's novel makes clear allusion to the legend of Scheherazade, the celebrated storyteller from One Thousand and One Nights who kept herself alive for a thousand and one nights through her enchanting storytelling. In Gate of the Sun, this process is replicated, as Khaleel tells stories of the Palestinian people in order to preserve an eroding past and keep Yunis alive. Khoury himself spent years in camps such as Shatila, collecting stories all of which flow into the complex network of vignettes that make up the novel. The effect that this collation of Palestinian experience has is a clear affirmation of Palestinian existence. Lital Levy describes the novel's obsession with stories as a: 'suggestion that the "real" Palestine is perpetuated through the multiple, fallible, but irreplaceable memories of those who were present, imparting an enhanced urgency to their recording'. Levy's use of the word 'urgency' is especially poignant, as throughout the novel there is the fear, shared by both narrator and author, that without expressing the multitude of Palestinian narratives, without affirming their identity, all may soon be lost. Khaleel vocalises this idea, saying: 'Memory, master, is the process of organising what to forget. Don't you dare die now! You have to finish organising your forgetting first, so that I can remember afterwards' (149-50). Here he exposes Khoury's fear of Palestinian eradication, suggesting that the most effective way to maintain Palestinian existence is through refusing to forget the past. Important to in the affirmation of Palestinian existence in Gate of the Sun is the creation of spaces in which Palestinians are able to interact free from occupying forces. Khoury focuses on various locations in which united Palestinian memory and experience can be expressed and shelter from occupation can be provided. The best example of one such place is the hospital, as it is here where the exchange of stories takes place, a process through which healing can begin. Khoury introduces the importance of the private hospital room early on in the novel, as we see Khaleel, in disciple-like fashion attend to Yunis every day: I spend most of my time in your room; I sit by your side, bathe you, put scent on you, sprinkle powder on you and rub your body with ointment. I cover you and make sure you're asleep, and I talk to you. With you I've discovered many selves of myself, selves with whom I maintain an eternal dialogue. (13-14).

Here, the hospital room is a safe space for Khaleel's care regimen, which enables him to reflect, to find himself in a world where Palestinian self- discovery is made difficult. We begin to understand that the reason behind Khaleel's devotion to Yunis lies in the fact that it affords him an identity beyond that of a refugee, a way of interacting with himself beyond the necessities of survival, creating a space of reflection in which the fragile history of pre- 1948 Palestine is protected. However, while both storytelling and the creation of spaces allow for positive affirmations of Palestine in Gate of the Sun, Khoury is eager to expose the traps of nationalism or any other phenomena that act to reduce the individuality of the vignettes or promote violence and misunderstanding of the Palestinian condition. The Dangers of Palestinian Nationalism and the Need to Understand the Other Side. The refugee camp is a contentious and contradictory literary space, a site of paradoxically temporary-permanence excluded from mainstream society. Predicated on ideas of victimisation, it can easily become a hotbed for idealised nationalism and overly emotional rhetoric. In Gate of the Sun, Khoury interacts with the refugee camp frequently, yet without the single-mindedness of vision that could leave the book feeling like a piece of irresponsible propaganda. In an honest and controversial piece of writing, Sari Harafi describes this issue in Palestinian refugee camps as follows: Many people, in the name of supporting the Palestinian nationalist movement, are unaware of the form of totalitarian nationalism being cultivated in the camps. The lyric image of the camp as a symbol of the struggle should not hide the reality that this same weapon has been used for corruption, violence and contradiction.

Gate of the Sun speaks to many of Harafi's concerns, and attempts to debunk the myth of benign nationalism in a number of interesting ways. One memorable example of how Palestinian nationalist narratives can exert a negative force is the story of Abu Arif, who is cheated by his cousin out of some buffaloes and then says that the Israelis killed them to hide his shame. This prompts one of the most memorable lines in the book, as Khaleel's grandmother says: 'Everything stupid we do we blame on the Jews.' (332). These lines show the ease with which nationalism can reduce a complex situation to good and evil, an act which only furthers differences and inhibits the possibility of resolution. What this resistance to nationalism achieves is an interrogation of the ideas of heroism and martyrdom, principles which often inform Palestinian narratives and which inhibit honesty about the reality of the situation on both sides. This idea is furthered by the significant detail that Yunis, the Fedayeen hero of Shatila: 'fought for the sake of the woman I loved' (19) and not out of duty to the greater Palestinian cause. Yunis's admission that he fought for Naheeleh is not treated as shameful, but simply as a natural human response. He continues to say that: 'what was worth dying for was what we wanted to live for' (19), and in his case, the love of a woman was the catalyst for resistance over the idealised notions of martyrdom, demystifying the mythology surrounding the Fedayeen and Palestinian nationalism. Hand in hand with this view of nationalism is the necessity to try and understand the other side, as failure to comprehend the colonial other leads only to violence and further misunderstanding. The clearest example of the need to reach an understanding lies in the story of Dunya, a resident of Shatila who tells the story of gang rape to the international press. Here, Khaleel's narration departs from what one would expect in the tale of a Palestinian woman's rape, moving beyond the pictures of horror to interrogate the motivation behind the story, and the consequences of presenting this narrative to the foreign media. Accusing Dunya of lying about the incident, Khaleel speaks of rape as 'a symbol' (265), saying that 'man connects war with rape.Dunya said she was raped to please the psychologists and the journalists. She said it, and they relaxed.' (265). This takes the reader aback, perhaps proving that Khaleel's opinion of war and its expectations are correct, as the reader becomes complicit in the network of associations and expectations of conflict. These expectations lead to the expectation of horrors such as gang rape that fit in with nationalist views of the enemy. Khaleel says of the Lebanese war that it: 'entered the world's imagination pre-packaged as insanity' (265), making Dunya's story dangerous due to its performative nature. Even if Dunya was not raped, the suggestion here is that the world expected her to be, and this implies that nationalism, combined with the inability of foreigners to understand the intricacies of conflict, leads only to an unhelpful simplification of the struggle, and a reduction of Palestinians to performing the role of victim. This idea is augmented by the presence of foreign actors hoping to dramatise the Sabra and Shatila massacre, as Khaleel leads them around Shatila, he says reflectively that 'voyeurism is one of the human race's greatest pleasures.We don't tell these tales to one another, so why should we talk to foreigners?' (240-41). This is crucial to Khoury's views on conflict and understanding, as he unequivocally suggests that voyeurism in conflict only leads to further separation between rival factions, and the expectation of brutality which, in situations like Dunya's story, causes words to lose their meaning as all conflict becomes "pre-packaged" and monolithic. 'Doing Away with Tired Dualities'.