Mahmoud Darwish: As the Land is the Language

Identity Card

Record!

I am an Arab

And my identity card is number fifty thousand

I have eight children

And the ninth is coming after a summer

Will you be angry?

Record!

I am an Arab

Employed with fellow workers at a quarry

I have eight children

I get them bread

Garments and books

from the rocks...

I do not supplicate charity at your doors

Nor do I belittle myself

at the footsteps of your chamber

So will you be angry?

Record!

I am an Arab

I have a name without a title

Patient in a country

Where people are enraged

My roots

Were entrenched before the birth of time

And before the opening of the eras

Before the pines, and the olive trees

And before the grass grew.

My father..

descends from the family of the plow

Not from a privileged class

And my grandfather..was a farmer

Neither well-bred, nor well-born!

Teaches me the pride of the sun

Before teaching me how to read

And my house

is like a watchman's hut

Made of branches and cane

Are you satisfied with my status?

I have a name without a title !

Record!

I am an Arab

You have stolen the orchards

of my ancestors

And the land

which I cultivated

Along with my children

And you left nothing for us

Except for these rocks..

So will the State take them

As it has been said?!

Therefore!

Record on the top of the first page:

I do not hate peopleNor do I encroach

But if I become hungry

The usurper's flesh will be my food

Beware..

Beware..Of my hunger

And my anger !

You could be mistaken for thinking that the author of this poem is yelling at his listener. No, he is not, he is merely stating staunchingly what sets him apart from the rest. He is reclaiming his space on this planet in the same way oppressed people have always done, firmly and looking into the oppressor's eyes as they talk to them. Far from agreeing to be treated like a native of Lilliput, Mahmoud grows in stature and cadence and as the poem reaches its finale, we are under no suspicion that the writer is not only proud to be an Arab but that his interlocutor would be out of his mind to think that Mr Darwish could ever consider another denouement. The questions he asks in the first two stanzas serve to reinforce the idea of him as a run-of-the-mill human being and yet why is his interrogator so angry? Is he angry at him for being human or for being an Arab? If it is the former, that means that the anonymous person hates us all, and that means to me that Mahmoud does not so much have a specific nationality or religion in mind (Jewish or Christian) but a specific status: power. If it is the latter, then, he reminds his tormentor that you can only repress for so long before anger swells up and explodes. He uses the old Gandhian gambit of showing the oppressor their own humanity so that they feel embarrassed of their own excesses should they ever set out to annihilate others. Sometimes it works. Sometimes, it doesn't. Like in Bosnia, or Palestine.

Thanks Mahmoud for giving the oppressed's voice a poem.

Mahmud Darwish: As the Land is the Language. Dir: Simone Bitton & Elias Sanbar. 60 mins, Israel/France 1998. Documentary on the famous Palestinian poet, his life and works. Q&A after the screening with a panel of specialists.
The ArtsZone,
54 - 56 Market Square,
London,
N9 0TZ
Wednesday 27th February

This film is part of "Women's Cinema from Tangiers to Tehran" festival.

7pm (doors will open at 6.30pm)

Box office number 020 8 887 9500

E-mail: info@enfieldartspartnership.org

Admission: £5/£4 concs

(OAPs, students, people on benefits and disabled people, proof of ID required).

Early Bird Discount: Book before Wednesday 13th February and pay only £3

For more info click here