*<\/p>\n
![\"Men](\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/11\/Men-in-the-Sun-202x300.jpeg\")
<\/p>\n
Men in the Sun<\/em><\/a> by Ghassan Kanafani (trans. Hilary Kilpatrick)<\/strong><\/p>\n I found this slim volume of short stories in the American University Cairo bookshop when I was 22. I had never heard of Kanafani. Whenever someone asks me about the transformative power of literature, I retreat back to the moment of reading this collection. “Men in The Sun,” the titular story of a deathly journey of Palestinian migrants to Kuwait in the back of a water tanker, and “Land of Sad Oranges,” articulated my heritage in a way I had never experienced previously. To explain: my father is from Jaffa, Palestine, and Kanafani is from Acre. Kanafani was two years older. Both of their families were expelled in 1948 and, together with almost a million other Palestinians, they both became refugees as children. My father once saw Kanafani, who was then an unpublished teenager, in a cinema in Damascus. He was, my father relates, serious for his age and incredibly keen on writing, but neither as good looking, nor as tall as my father was. My father, who was going through a phase of disaffection at the time, was envious of Kanafani\u2019s notebook, his dedication, and his beautiful handwriting.<\/p>\n Thirty years later, as a disaffected teenager in Kuwait, literature was always my portal of escape. My preferences were for 19th century French and Russian literature, most notably Emile Zola, Ivan Turgenev, and Fyodor Dostoyevsky. To me, literature was Great, but it was also European, Male, and Past. What Kanafani did was to communicate the immediate, emotional pulse of personal and political trauma, love and family bonds that ran through our lives, whilst also creating a collective sense of resistance in his work. He was assassinated in 1972 by a car bomb in Beirut. His niece died with him. Some of his more experimental works are less powerful, in my view, but this volume set me on my life journey, which sometimes I wish I could get off, but can’t.<\/p>\n \u2013Selma Dabbagh<\/em><\/p>\n A collection of short stories about the plight of displaced Palestinians. The titular story, and the longest in the collection, follows three men as they make their way to Kuwait. There are also shorter stories that all illustrate some aspect of the hardship of displacement and dispossession. The translation from the Arabic original does full justice to Kanafani’s beautiful prose, and the introduction is extremely valuable for readers unfamiliar with the context of the stories.<\/p>\n \u2013Nada Elia<\/em><\/p>\n The Tiny Journalist<\/a>\u00a0<\/em>by Naomi Shihab Nye<\/strong><\/p>\n Every day for the past several weeks, I\u2019ve been reading poetry by Palestinian and Palestinian American writers. I turn to these poems for solace in the early morning, at my office at work, in bed at night. I read verses that celebrate the richness of Palestinian history and culture, and verses that demand justice and freedom for Palestine. Naomi Shihab Nye\u2019s fiercely political collection The Tiny Journalist<\/em> captures daily life under Israeli occupation: the unlawful incarceration of Palestinians; the terrifying airstrikes; the massive barrier wall that cuts through Palestinian land. The poem \u201cISRAELIS LET BULLDOZERS GRIND TO HALT\u201d dramatizes the deliberate misuse of language in American reporting on the Arab-Israeli conflict, language \u201ccovering the pain\/big bandage\/masking the wound\u201d of Palestinians.<\/p>\n There are heartrending poems about Gaza, such as one told from the point of view of the moon, who looks down on the narrow strip of land and sees \u201cno reason for the sorrows humans make\u201d and dislikes \u201cthe scuffle of bombs blasting.\u201d There are others about Jerusalem, \u201ceveryone\u2019s city.\u201d These unflinching poems aren\u2019t told from the voices of the defeated. They\u2019re voices that, despite their pain, speak out against Israeli occupation and violence. They\u2019re human voices that refuse to be silenced.<\/p>\n \u2013Ghassan Zeineddine<\/em><\/p>\n Memory for Forgetfulness<\/em><\/a> by Mahmoud Darwish (trans. Ibrahim Muhawi)<\/strong><\/p>\n This prose poem memoir bears witness to the ravages of the Israeli siege of Beirut in 1982 while simultaneously interrogating the role of memory. In this beautiful book, Darwish asks, what is the role of the poet in wartime? How do we save the soul beneath the deafening sound of rockets? Darwish writes in one passage: “Why am I looking for the paper when buildings are falling in all directions? Is that not writing enough?”<\/p>\n \u2013Hannah Lillith Assadi<\/em><\/p>\n His poetic prose reflection of the bloody 1982 Israeli invasion of Beirut. The surreal precarity of life under siege and bombardment is captured in a dreamlike web of ideas and memories and observations by the masterful poet laureate of Palestine.<\/p>\n \u2013Ismail Khalidi<\/em><\/p>\n Salt Houses<\/em><\/a> by Hala Alyan<\/strong><\/p>\n Hala Alyan\u2019s debut novel, Salt Houses<\/em>, is a beautiful, heartwrenching remedy to the rampant dehumanization of Palestinians. Telling the story of a single family over three generations, Alyan maps their lives, displacements, and migrations from Palestine to Kuwait and America to France. It is a poignant reminder of the way the Nakba and colonialism more broadly has shaped the histories, present(s), and futures of Palestinian people. Simply a must read.<\/p>\n \u2013Nicki Kattoura<\/em><\/p>\n Read an excerpt from <\/em>Salt Houses here<\/em><\/a><\/p>\n Palestinian Walks: Forays Into a Vanishing Landscape<\/em><\/a>\u00a0by Raja Shehadeh<\/strong><\/p>\n Because of course you want to scream. You want to shout. But as a writer, you know that the Screaming\/Shouting Section of the bookstore is filled to overflowing, that none of the books are particularly interesting, and that customers never visit that section anyway. And so, in Palestinian Walks<\/em>, Raja Shehadeh doesn\u2019t scream. He delivers instead a love letter to a place of natural beauty that is disappearing beneath his feet. He recounts six different sarhat\u2014like a hike, but more delightfully aimless\u2014that he has taken over the past twenty-six years in the Central Highlands around his home of Ramallah, where flora and fauna are increasingly displaced by checkpoints and guns. No screams, no shouts, just love and loss and longing: for a home, for nature, for a life of normalcy in this place of astounding beauty that has been torn through by an ever-widening river of tears. It\u2019s enough to make you want to scream.<\/p>\n \u2013Shalom Auslander<\/em><\/p>\n Freud and the Non-European<\/em><\/a> by Edward Said\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n At a time when tribal affinities tend to solidify and harden, this rich and surprising lecture by Edward Said reminds us that there is no such thing as pure identity, and that identity is inherently mixed and unresolved. Applying this non-exclusionary understanding of identity to today’s politics, Said proposes an exit from the duel, and hints at a possible future where Jews and Palestinians are parts of each other, rather than antagonists.<\/p>\n \u2013Yasmin Zaher<\/em><\/p>\n Bab al-Saha<\/em> or Passage to the Plaza<\/em><\/a> by Sahar Khalifeh (trans. Sawad Hussain)<\/strong><\/p>\n I recommend Bab al-Saha<\/em> or The Passage to the Plaza<\/em> by Sahar Khalifeh, which is set in the city of Nablus during the Intifada of 1987. This novel is a lively, rich, clear-eyed, and unsentimental portrait of the plight, struggle, and strength of Palestinian women living under a violent military occupation.<\/p>\n I’d also recommend everyone to read Ghassan Kanafani’s “Letter from Gaza<\/a>,” written in 1956. Israel assassinated Kanafani in 1972 with a car bomb when he was only 36, and yet during his short life he produced some of the most vivid and significant literary and non-fiction writings on the Palestinian experience.<\/p>\n \u2013Isabella Hammad<\/em><\/p>\n Palestine +100: Stories From a Century After the Nakba<\/em><\/a> edited by Basma Ghayalini<\/strong><\/p>\n The Palestinian-British editor of this futurist collection asked 12 writers to imagine the world a hundred years from the 1948 Nabka or catastrophe that befell the Palestinian people. As of 2023, we still don’t know what the future portends, but the present moment continues to serve up more of the same oppression from Palestine’s overlords.<\/p>\n \u2013Jordan Elgrably<\/em><\/p>\n Read a story from <\/em>Palestine +100 here<\/em><\/a><\/p>\n Gate of the Sun<\/em><\/a> by Elias Khoury (trans. Humphrey Davies)<\/strong><\/p>\n Elias Khoury is Lebanese, but his finest novel, 1998\u2019s Gate of the Sun<\/em>, draws on years of interviews with Palestinian refugees. It is a dizzying, masterfully spun epic about the Nakba, exile, memory, and loss. At its core is a massacre\u2014the one that occurred in 1982 in Beirut\u2019s Sabra and Shatila camps\u2014but also a refuge, a cave where a resistance fighter secretly meets his beloved, a hidden space of love and tenderness that is both inside and outside of history, and without which history cannot be understood.<\/p>\n \u2013Ben Ehrenreich<\/em><\/p>\n It completely changed my perspective while I was writing The New Earth<\/em>. The focus is Palestinian refugees and resistance fighters\u2014fedayeen\u2014in Lebanon at the time of the Sabra and Shatila massacre in 1982, but it opens up a history that goes back to the 1948 Nakba and the lives of Palestinians in the Galilee many generations before that.<\/p>\n \u2013Jess Row<\/em><\/p>\n Born Palestinian, Born Black<\/em><\/a> by Suheir Hammad<\/strong><\/p>\n The first collection from the brilliant, boundary-breaking poet Suheir Hammad. Since she burst onto the scene in the late 1990s and early 2000s, she has been a trailblazer for younger Palestinian and Arab American poets and spoken word artists. Suheir’s work is fire, at once profoundly Palestinian and perfectly Brooklyn.<\/p>\n I would argue that besides being an excellent poet in her own right, Hammad also foreshadowed the intersectional moment of today, articulating anew for second generation\u00a0immigrants (and beyond) the Palestinian-Black solidarity that they felt in their bones but which\u2014despite having existed previously\u2014had never quite been conjured in such an organically hybridized form.<\/p>\n \u2013Ismail Khalidi<\/em><\/p>\n Hollow Land: Israel’s Architecture of Occupation<\/em><\/a>\u00a0by Eyal Weizman<\/strong><\/p>\n This book by Eyal Weizman, an Israeli architect who teaches at Goldsmiths in London and is the founder of Forensic Architecture, is indispensable to understanding the spatial violence of the Israeli occupation. From the illegal checkpoints and settlements, to the apartheid wall and siege on Gaza, he highlights the way that Palestinian land has been transformed into a militarized zone that controls every facet of Palestinian life. Reading this book truly exemplifies how the slow, invisibilized, daily violence Palestinians face is structural in nature and literally built into the occupation’s architecture.<\/p>\n \u2013Nicki Kattoura<\/em><\/p>\n The Book of Disappearance<\/em><\/a> by Ibtisam Azem (trans. Sinan Antoon)<\/strong><\/p>\n When I first read The Book of Disappearance<\/em> by Ibtisam Azem in 2014, I was haunted for days. The novel\u2019s premise is the mass vanishing of Palestinians\u2014tragically, a notion not so far-fetched as we bear witness to Gaza\u2019s ethnic cleansing in real time. But this, along with seventy-five years of recorded displacement and death, does not diminish the profound effect of this contemporary work. Azem examines the inheritance and burden of memory, and how deeply it is rooted in our collective Palestinian psyche.<\/p>\n A main character named Alaa\u2014in conversation with his dead grandmother, a survivor of the Nakba\u2014bemoans: \u201cI firmly believe now that all those who stayed in Palestine are mad. Otherwise how would they be able to bear the memory of those who survived, and those who didn\u2019t? How can they live with this pain in the memory of the survivors.\u201d Interspersed with Alaa\u2019s story is Ariel, his Israeli friend, who must find ways to reconcile the sudden disappearance of his Palestinian neighbors. This raises a difficult, yet inevitable question: how might complacency turn into complicity? For its arrestingly layered storytelling of generational trauma and systematic erasure, Azem\u2019s novel is an essential read. Now more than ever.<\/p>\n \u2013Sahar Mustafah<\/em><\/p>\n Life in a Country Album<\/em><\/a> by Nathalie Handal<\/strong><\/p>\n Nathalie Handal\u2019s facility with language is the stuff of legend. She is fluent in Arabic, French, Italian, Spanish, and English, and her poetry has the feel of rare music; as though the native instruments from each one of the countries in which those languages are spoken, have come together to create a single symphony for the world. It is the world that she inhabits in Life in a Country Album<\/em>, a collection that addresses all of our human fervencies as they are kept alive across borders: our citizenship, our foothold identities that straddle nations, our desire for each other, for belonging, and for freedom.<\/p>\n What is nation and what is identity when we are, above all else, who raised us and whom and what we love? Teju Cole wrote, of an earlier work (The Republics<\/em>) that her poems are \u201cfull of hard truths, of things seen in extremis, and yet they do not leave us comfortless.\u201d In a time when so many are awakening to the realization that change cannot come without acknowledging our present reality, and when so many of us also feel a wild despair, Handal\u2019s poems are both crucible and balm.<\/p>\n \u2013Ru Freeman<\/em><\/p>\n Read a poem from <\/em>Life in a Country Album here<\/em><\/a><\/p>\n Speak Bird, Speak Again: Palestinian Arab Folktales<\/strong><\/em><\/a><\/p>\n A collection of Palestinian folktales that is also a rich compendium of details about traditional pre-1948 Palestinian life and culture. At this moment when Zionist lies about the nonexistence of Palestine and Palestinians are everywhere in the media, this work of anthropology and folklore is more important than ever.<\/p>\n \u2013Jess Row<\/em><\/p>\n Minor Detail<\/em><\/a> by Adania Shibli (trans. Elisabeth Jaquette)<\/strong><\/p>\n Kuwaiti novelist Layla AlAmmar published a laudatory review<\/a> of the English translation of Shibli’s novel\u00a0in 2020, and even three years later, this slim volume continues to stack up accolades and awards, justly deserved.<\/p>\n \u2013Jordan Elgrably<\/em><\/p>\n Read an excerpt from <\/em>Minor Detail here<\/em><\/a><\/p>\n Velvet<\/em><\/a> by Huzama Habayeb (trans. Kay Heikkinen)<\/strong><\/p>\n Velvet<\/em> is the story of a life. Hawwa, the novel’s central character, lives in a refugee camp in Jordan, and through an immense capacity for both sensory and emotional detail, Habayeb invites the reader into the contours of Hawwa’s daily life, the kindnesses and cruelties that in one way or another upend it. This is a deeply human book, concerned with the often-dangerous workings of want.<\/p>\n It’s not particularly political in any overt way, and yet it is deeply political. In this moment of outright genocide, when so many of the most powerful people on the planet seem more than happy to cheer on mass slaughter, the very act of protrayting those on the recieving end of such barbarism as human, as made of life, as capable of desire and joy and resilience, is sadly still a radical thing. Even if it wasn’t, Velvet<\/em> would still be a masterwork.<\/p>\n \u2013Omar El Akkad<\/em><\/p>\n Arabesques<\/em><\/a> by Anton Shammas (trans. Vivian Eden)<\/strong><\/p>\n Originally published in Hebrew in 1986, Shammas brings the story of his family and his Galilean village into the Hebrew language. Chosen by The New York Times<\/em> as one of the best books of 1988, Arabesques<\/em> remains an intricate and poetic Palestinian tale which through the revelation of family secrets tie together the trajectories of various Palestinian characters. Translated into several languages (but yet to be translated into Arabic), Arabesques<\/em> is a unique masterpiece that\u2014as the latest edition published by the New York Review of Books<\/em> testifies to\u2014continues to belong the canon of world literature.<\/p>\n \u2013Maurice Ebileeni<\/em><\/p>\n Read an excerpt from <\/em>Arabesques here<\/em><\/a><\/p>\n The Sea Cloak and Other Stories<\/em><\/a> by Nayrouz Qarmout<\/strong><\/p>\n What I appreciate the most about The Sea Cloak and Other Stories <\/em>is the way it introduces us to the full spectrum of life in Gaza, dragging us by the hand to feel for ourselves the beating of the enclave\u2019s heart. Reading these stories is like spending a day passing from one gracious home to another, being ordered to rest awhile and offered endless cups of tea while everyday tales are relayed to us by the bustling families we encounter. Thanks to the extraordinary sensory detail of Qarmout\u2019s storytelling, we experience the political complexity of life in the Strip, but we also get to experience friendship and romance, parenting and childhood, in a context so colored by conflict.<\/p>\n In “Pen and Notebook,” we read about the young siblings who have to work to make ends meet after their father is shot through the spine\u2014just one of the stories of survival in the \u201cworld\u2019s largest open-air prison.\u201d \u00adStill, nothing is more haunting than the constant reminders of the frailty of existence. In the book\u2019s titular story, “The Sea Cloak,” a young girl is nearly pulled to her death by the dark waters, her billowing black dress a metaphor for the myriad burdens put upon Palestinians, burdens that threaten to suffocate them. \u201cMaybe I wanted to die,\u201d she thinks out loud to her rescuer, her voice echoing even more eerily today.<\/p>\n \u2013Nashwa Nasreldin<\/em><\/p>\n “Revenge<\/a>” by Taha Muhammad Ali (trans. Peter Cole)<\/strong><\/p>\n It is hard to think of a work of literature that speaks more to this moment than the poem “Revenge” by Taha Muhammad Ali. It was written too late to be included in Taha’s final collection of poems, So What: New and Selected Poems, 1971-2005<\/em>, translated by Peter Cole, Yahya Hijazi, and Gabriel Levin. But it can be found in Hymns & Qualms: New and Selected Poems and Translations<\/em>, a beautiful collection of poems and translations by Taha’s close friend and translator, Peter Cole:<\/p>\n Revenge<\/strong><\/p>\n At times \u2026 I wish […]<\/p>\n But if he turned \u2013Nathan Thrall<\/em><\/p>\n The Secret Life of Saeed the Pessoptimist<\/em><\/a> by Emile Habibi (trans. Salma Khadra Jayyusi & Trevor Le Gassick)<\/strong><\/p>\n From one of the great Palestinian-Israeli writers, this is one of the foundational pieces of fiction to understand the maddening (sur)reality of 2nd or 3rd class Palestinian citizens of Israel\u00a0navigating impossible\u00a0life choices in a country built on top of their own but not for them.<\/p>\n \u2013Ismail Khalidi<\/em><\/p>\n The Parisian<\/em><\/a> by Isabella Hammad<\/strong><\/p>\n The young British-Palestinian’s debut novel provides a panoramic account of Palestinian lives across much of the 20th century, with stints in Montpellier, Paris, and Palestine.<\/p>\n \u2013Jordan Elgrably<\/em><\/p>\n Read an excerpt from <\/em>The Parisian here<\/em><\/a><\/p>\n Palestine as Metaphor<\/em><\/a> by Mahmoud Darwish (trans. Amira El-Zein and Carolyn Forch\u00e9)<\/strong><\/p>\n It is impossible to choose just one work by Darwish, but Palestine as Metaphor<\/em> serves as a doorway to them all. The book is a series of long interviews with Darwish: conversations with a Lebanese poet, a Syrian literary critic, three Palestinian writers, and an Israeli journalist. Each took place in a different city and each discussion contains universes: political theory, history, memoir, criticism, and poetry\u2014as well as Darwish\u2019s personal history and relationship to his readers.<\/p>\n \u2013M. Lynx Qualey<\/em><\/p>\n They Dare to Speak Out: People and Institutions Confront Israel’s Lobby<\/em><\/a> by Paul Findley<\/strong><\/p>\n As a Palestinian-American author, I recommend former US Representative Paul Findley<\/a>\u2019s 1985 book,\u00a0They Dare to Speak Out: People and Institutions Confront Israel’s Lobby<\/em>. I don\u2019t know Mr. Findley personally, and I am not a politician, but I am an author who grew up in Palestine under Israeli occupation (about which I have written two memoirs) and I have experienced the effects that pro Israel groups in the US have had on Palestinian voices. I’ve seen efforts to\u00a0deter or block Palestinian stories from reaching readers, as well as the creation of\u00a0dedicated watch groups on US campuses to guard against any education that includes Palestinian perspectives. I could write an entire memoir about those experiences in my own life. What inspires me daily, however, in spite of the attempted erasure of our stories, are the many Palestinians, and many other fellow humans, who do dare to speak out with integrity regarding Palestine, and who work toward healing humanity’s collective voice through their words.<\/p>\n \u2013Ibtisam Barakat<\/em><\/p>\n![\"The](\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/11\/The-Tiny-Journalist-200x300.jpg\")
<\/p>\n![\"Memory](\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/11\/Memory-for-Forgetfulness-200x300.jpg\")
<\/a><\/p>\n![\"salt-houses\"](\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/04\/salt-houses-199x300.jpg\")
<\/a><\/p>\n![\"Palestinian](\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/11\/Palestinian-Walks-192x300.jpg\")
<\/a><\/p>\n![\"Freud](\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/11\/Freud-and-the-Non-European-196x300.png\")
<\/p>\n![\"Passage](\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/11\/Passage-to-the-Plaza-187x300.jpg\")
<\/a><\/p>\n![\"Palestine](\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/11\/Palestine-100-193x300.jpg\")
<\/p>\n![\"Gate](\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/11\/Gate-of-the-Sun-1-227x300.jpg\")
<\/p>\n![\"Born](\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/11\/Born-Palestinian-Born-Black-193x300.jpg\")
<\/a><\/p>\n![\"Hollow](\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/11\/Hollow-Land-196x300.jpeg\")
<\/a><\/p>\n![\"The](\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/11\/The-Book-of-Disappearance-188x300.jpg\")
<\/p>\n![\"Life](\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/11\/Life-in-a-Country-Album-200x300.jpg\")
<\/p>\n![\"Speak](\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/11\/Speak-Bird-Speak-Again-cover-194x300.jpg\")
<\/a><\/p>\n![\"Adania](\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/81OpqPFxgoL-187x300.jpg\")
<\/a><\/p>\n![\"Velvet](\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/11\/Velvet-Huzama-Habayeb-191x300.jpg\")
<\/a><\/p>\n![\"Anton](\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/11\/Anton-Shammas-Arabesques-188x300.png\")
<\/a><\/p>\n![\"The](\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/11\/The-Sea-Cloak-and-Other-Stories-by-Nayrouz-Qarmout-197x300.jpg\")
<\/p>\n![\"Hymns](\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/11\/Hymns-and-Qualms-199x300.jpg\")
<\/a><\/p>\n
\nI could meet in a duel
\nthe man who killed my father
\nand razed our home,
\nexpelling me
\ninto
\na narrow country.
\nAnd if he killed me,
\nI\u2019d rest at last,
\nand if I were ready\u2014
\nI would take my revenge!<\/p>\n
\nout to be on his own\u2014
\ncut off like a branch from a tree\u2014
\nwithout a mother or father,
\nwith neither a brother nor sister,
\nwifeless, without a child,
\nand without kin or neighbors or friends,
\ncolleagues or companions,
\nthen I\u2019d add not a thing to his pain
\nwithin that aloneness\u2014
\nnot the torment of death,
\nand not the sorrow of passing away.
\nInstead I\u2019d be content
\nto ignore him when I passed him by
\non the street\u2014as I
\nconvinced myself
\nthat paying him no attention
\nin itself was a kind of revenge.<\/p>\n![\"The](\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/11\/The-Secret-Life-of-Saeed-the-Pessoptimist-197x300.jpg\")
<\/a><\/p>\n![\"Parisian\"](\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/12\/ParisianHC_catalog-340x509-200x300.jpg\")
<\/a><\/p>\n![\"Palestine](\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/11\/Palestine-as-Metaphor-200x300.jpg\")
<\/a><\/p>\n![\"They](\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/11\/They-Dare-to-Speak-Out-198x300.jpg\")
<\/a><\/p>\n![\"The](\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/11\/The-Beauty-of-Your-Face-199x300.jpg\")
<\/p>\n