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	<title>Ceasefire Magazine &#187; Palestine</title>
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		<title>Remembering Mahmoud Darwish &#8211; How the revolution was written</title>
		<link>http://ceasefiremagazine.co.uk/2010/08/remembering-mahmoud-darwish-how-the-revolution-was-written/</link>
		<comments>http://ceasefiremagazine.co.uk/2010/08/remembering-mahmoud-darwish-how-the-revolution-was-written/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 09 Aug 2010 16:46:45 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>hich</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Features]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[News]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Profiles]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[ahmed masoud]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[darwish]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[mahmoud]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Palestine]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[poetry]]></category>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://ceasefiremagazine.co.uk/?p=584</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[<a href="http://ceasefiremagazine.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/darwish.jpg"><img class="alignleft size-full wp-image-366" title="Raoul" src="http://ceasefiremagazine.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/darwish.jpg" alt="" width="1236" height="816" /></a><strong> <size=4> Two years ago today Palestine’s National Poet, Mahmoud Darwish passed away after a 6-month battle with cancer. He was 67. The ensuing reverberations, of loss and mourning and a sense of things left unsaid continue to resonate to this day. On this second anniversary, Ahmed Masoud, Palestinian academic, writer and theatre director, revisits the astonishing achievements of a literary giant. In particular, he guides us through a crucial period in Darwish’s intellectual journey, namely the years 1950-1971 when he was still living in Israel. It's a fitting homage, celebrating the life of a true humanist and the fighting conscience of a nation.</a><strong> <size=4></strong></size>]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><a href="http://ceasefiremagazine.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/darwish3.gif"><img class="size-full wp-image-587 alignleft" title="darwish3" src="http://ceasefiremagazine.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/darwish3.gif" alt="" width="607" height="456" /></a></p>
<p>By <strong>Ahmed Masoud</strong></p>
<p>On 09 August 2008, Palestinians were distraught and shocked at the news of the departure of their beloved national poet Mahmoud Darwish. Although his health had been deteriorating for over six months, Darwish’s death was received with grief across the Palestinian nation and the Arab world. The Palestinian National Authority (PNA) declared three days of national mourning across the West Bank and the Gaza Strip. This article aims to explore Darwish’s contribution in building modern Palestinian literature which is considered to be at the core of post 1950 modern Arab literary movement. The focus here will be on his life in Israel between 1950 and 1971.</p>
<p>Born in 1942, in the village of Barwa near Acre, Darwish was one of the 800,000 Palestinians deported during the Palestinian Nakba# of 1948. He lived in Lebanon for eight years until he went back to look for the rest of his family. He discovered that his village was one of the 450 villages razed to the ground by Israelis in 1948. Darwish left Palestine in 1971 to study in the USSR for a year and decided to join the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO) in 1973, when he was banned from re-entering Israel. He lived in Cairo between 1975 and 1981where he worked for Al-Ahram newspaper. Darwish moved to Beirut in 1980 where he became the editor of the journal “Palestinian Issues” and was the director of the Palestinian Research Centre. He returned to Palestine in 1996 after the PNA was born as a result of the Oslo agreement which gave Palestinians self-rule over parts of Gaza and small parts of the West Bank.</p>
<p>Darwish is considered to be the founder of the literature of resistance which was born as a reaction to the loss of the Palestinian homeland and identity. The literature of resistance was developed by Palestinians who remained in Palestine after 1948. Their writing came to express their rejection of the new political climate which branded their national aspirations a form of anti-state terrorism. The enthusiasm and anger of some young poets, like Mahmoud Darwish, developed into a unified and structured literary movement which aimed to encourage resistance of the occupation. No one has described the literature of resistance clearer than Moshe Dayan (1915-1981, Israeli defense minister during the Six Day War in 1967) who said in an interview with Ma’areef newspaper (Israeli daily paper) that “only one poem of Fadwa Tuqan# is enough to create ten Palestinian terrorists” (Quoted from Al-Ayyam, 1997).</p>
<p>This statement was a reflection of the fact that, in the mid-twentieth century, Palestinian poets focused their anger on the Israeli government and the West, describing their countrymen as victims of history and heroes fighting to redeem their people. The main themes in the literary writings of that period, therefore, had been resistance as well as the continuous faith in victory and the right of return. Literature, particularly poetry, took a leadership position in inviting people to start a resistance movement after 1948. The nationalist movement was almost destroyed after the Nakba, Also, there was no national media to discuss national issues. All the small newspapers which operated before the establishment of the state of Israel were destroyed. This left the remaining Palestinian community, almost 200,000 people, unorganized and not represented in the new society. In this context, poetry and the spoken word started taking the lead in representing Palestinian issues.</p>
<p>Mahmoud Darwish is always introduced in his poetry readings as Al-Munadil (the freedom fighter). He was seen not only as a man of letters but also as a leader who was able to eloquently express what his people needed, against any attempts of cultural appropriation.</p>
<p>I will say myself that Palestinians are not merciful to their men of letters. This is because of their faith in the effectiveness of literature which has been to them a compensation for all the humiliations when they lost everything (referring to 1948) except words. Literature then took strength from the people to create a relationship between them and the lost home. A Palestinian writer is often asked: Are you a writer or a freedom fighter? (Kanafani, 1998)</p>
<p>Post 1948 Palestinians were treated as second class citizens in Israel. There were not, for example, any unions for Palestinian workers and Palestinians were not allowed to work in any other job than handy work, mainly building and construction. It is indeed his ability to draw attention to national themes while talking about ordinary human matters like love which brought fame to Mahmoud Darwish. In his first anthology Lover From Palestine (1967), he clearly talks about emotional matters which concerned any young man of his age (25), but his ability to incorporate the young man’s emotional concerns within his national outlook is what makes the anthology unique. At the time of its publication, the Israeli government imposed onerous rules on Arabic-language literary production. Publishing was limited and went through Israeli censorship channels; those who did manage to publish sometimes received funding from Zionist organizations which imposed their own ideological imperatives on the context of the writing. In fact, most publications were not allowed to talk about Palestine and the theme of homeland.</p>
<p>Zionist organizations also encouraged Palestinian writers who were desperate to publish their works in Arabic to promote Zionism as an acceptable social phenomenon. In this political environment, poetry was the medium to express the feelings of resentment because it could spread easier than any other printed literature.</p>
<p>Love poetry was a key element in creating the literature of resistance. Post 1948 Palestinians were disconnected from their own community; the majority left Palestine and the remaining minority felt fragmented because a lot of their family members were either killed or deported. Love poetry became a key element in bridging the gaps between those fragmented communities and created a feeling of security amongst those who remained in Palestine. This form of poetry came to compensate for the inability to express the feelings of oppression which were not allowed to be published. Ten years after the Nakba, love poetry was transformed into a new genre which had the aim of connecting social and national issues in one form. While writers talked about love in order to bring communities together, the sense of homeland was re-established in images, memories and most importantly, hopes of civil and national rights. Poets, then, adopted a resistance mentality whereby the enemy was challenged.</p>
<p>To the rest of the world, however, it still seemed that the Palestinian people did not exist, except as remote statistics. Mahmoud Darwish became the main exponent of the literature of resistance in the sixties, and was, like many fellow poets, often imprisoned by Israeli authorities. He earned international acclaim for his poetry on the Palestine experience, etching with the details of human moments rather than ideology, but constantly imbued with a drive for his people’s dignity.When his poem &#8220;A Lover from Palestine&#8221; was going to be published, he presented it to the Israeli censor, who crossed out the word `Palestine’ and replaced it with `Eretz Israel (Gabriel, 1998)</p>
<address>Like grass growing among the joints of a rock</address>
<address>We existed as strangers one day</address>
<address>The Spring Sky was composing a star…and a star</address>
<address>And I was composing a love verse</address>
<address>To your eyes I will sing.</address>
<address>Do your eyes know that I have waited very long</address>
<address>Like summer waiting for a bird</address>
<address>And I slept like an immigrant</address>
<address>With one eye awake and the other crying</address>
<address>We are two lovers until the moon falls asleep</address>
<address>And know that hugging and kissing</address>
<address>Are the food of love nights</address>
<address>And that morning is calling for my footsteps to continue</address>
<address>On the path!</address>
<address>We are friends, so walk next to me hand in hand</address>
<address>Together we make bread and songs</address>
<address>Why do we ask this path which fate we are facing?</address>
<address>Let’s just walk for ever</address>
<address>Why do we look for songs of crying</address>
<address>In an old poetry anthology?</address>
<address>And we ask: our love, are you going to be for ever?</address>
<address>I love you like Bedouin tribes love the oasis of grass and water</address>
<address>Like a hungry man’s love to a loaf of bread</address>
<address>Like grass growing among the joints of a rock</address>
<address>We existed as strangers one day (Darwish, 1996)</address>
<p>In this poem, entitled “The Most Beautiful Love”, Mahmoud Darwish is clearly writing to his beloved about his love to her and their future together. He expresses his anxiety about her concern regarding the future, claiming that lovers should not worry about what is to come. However, the political references are hidden among the lines and metaphors of this poem. The first line of the poem expresses how Palestinians have become strangers in their own land. The metaphor of the grass and rock suggests the abnormal situation Palestinians in Israel live in where one, the rock, is more aggressive and hostile and the other, the grass, is more passive and powerless. The writer shows how the birth of the state of Israel destroyed the Palestinian nation and prevented it from growing. “I slept like an immigrant” (Darwish, 1996) is another simile of the situation in Palestine at the time. Post-1948 Palestinians have not enjoyed full civil rights and lived like immigrants in their own country. After the mass deportation/exodus of Palestinians, Israeli government worked on ethnically cleansing those who remained in their homes. They delayed registering them as citizens of the new state and did not grant them residency permits which eventually led to their deportation. The majority of Palestinians after 1948 did not have such a permit and therefore had to move around their own country like immigrants. In response to this idea of the immigrant, the poet continues his poem with reference to Palestinian and Arabic culture which is deeply rooted in the land, he talks of the “old poetry anthologies” and how the Arabs used to cherish poetry and the craft of language from the pre-Islamic era. He also refers to Bedouin tribes travelling in the desert. Darwish connects love with the suffering and hunger of Palestinians when he refers to his love as a “hungry man’s love to a loaf of bread”.</p>
<p>Adopting resistance was not an easy choice for Mahmoud Darwish given there was a political crisis at the time in Israel which was centred on Arabs and their involvement in Israeli political life. Many Israeli parties considered Palestinians to be a dangerous enemy accusing them of not abiding by Israeli civil laws and trying to avenge what happened in 1948. This political crisis led to the creation of a new Arab party, Jabhat Al Ard (The Land Front), which evolved from the Israeli Communist Party. Al-Ard was born out of the need to defend Palestinian identity. Many Palestinians had joined the ICP after the establishment of the state of Israel due to the party’s non sectarian ideology which Palestinians thought might be key to counter the Jewish Zionist ideology. In 1959 Jabhat Al Ard published its first journal, benefiting from an Israeli law which allowed individuals to publish one journal a year. In the same year, Al-Ard published twelve more journals using different names. The last of which was after Nasser’s victory in the Suez crisis (1956). Al-Ard published details of the Israeli defeat and pictures of the Egyptian leader. This journal shocked Israeli officials who did not expect Al-Ard to find such a loophole in the Israeli law. But Israeli officials arrested Al-Ard’s writers and deported its editors.</p>
<p>During that time, love poetry developed to express Palestinian nationalism in a more metaphorical way. One of the important themes which developed out of the love theme was the motherhood topic and its symbolic reference to home. This celebration of land and referring to it as a mother was a necessity in Palestine in the twenty years following the Nakba; it provided an easier connection between social and national themes. This is demonstrated in one of Mahmoud Darwish’s poem Ila Ommi “To Mother”. This poem, published in the same anthology A Lover from Palestine, is considered to be a core pamphlet in the building of the literature of resistance. This is because of the writer’s ability to connect both the theme of motherhood and nationhood at times when writing about the latter could lead to imprisonment.</p>
<address>I yearn for my mother’s bread</address>
<address>My mother’s coffee,</address>
<address>My mother’s touch</address>
<address>And childhood grows inside me</address>
<address>Day upon breast of day</address>
<address>And I love my life because</address>
<address>If I died</address>
<address>I’d feel ashamed because of my mother’s tears</address>
<address>Take me (mother), if one day I return,</address>
<address>As a veil for your lashes</address>
<address>And cover my bones with grass</address>
<address>Baptised by the purity of your heel</address>
<address>And fasten my bonds</address>
<address>With a lock made of your hair</address>
<address>With a piece of thread that trails in the train of your dress</address>
<address>Maybe I’d become a god</address>
<address>A god I’d become</address>
<address>If I touched the depths of your heart</address>
<address>Put me, if I return,</address>
<address>As fuel in your cooking stove,</address>
<address>As a clothes line on your rooftop</address>
<address>For I have lost resolve</address>
<address>Without your daily prayer</address>
<address>I have grown decrepit: Give me back the stars of childhood</address>
<address>That I may join</address>
<address>The young birds</address>
<address>On the return route</address>
<address>To the nest of your waiting (Darwish, 1996)</address>
<p>Referring to the bread and coffee being emblematic of Palestinian daily culture, it gives a picture of a peasant woman waking up early to prepare bread for her children. Bread is eaten in almost every meal or at least for breakfast and dinner. Therefore, to start a poem talking about mothers with a reference to bread making is to highlight the existence of different people who cherish their own cultural norms, which are different from the new majority in the new Israeli state. Even coffee is more of an Arabic drink than a European one (indeed, the English word &#8216;coffee&#8217; comes from the Arabic &#8216;Qahwa&#8217;.)</p>
<p>By connecting Palestinians and motherhood, Darwish was able to present Palestinian cultural identity in a way which Israelis would not be able to punish him for. The poem continues into stronger images of both motherhood and “Palestinianism” or “Arabism” when the poet talks about the beauty of the Arabic woman while veiling her face. The image of a woman veiling her face has recently been connected with extremism, however, in the Arabic culture veiling the face is a way of flirting between men and women. When a woman wants to flirt with a man in the Arab world, she often veils her face to show the beauty of her eyes. It is these images of Arabic culture that the poet is focusing on to bypass Israeli rules. “Put me as a cloth line on your roof top” is a powerful image of how children should be obedient to their mothers and tolerate their mistakes. This image brings to Palestinians their Muslim culture when highlighting the same orders of the Quran which stress the importance of obedience to one’s parents.</p>
<p><a href="http://ceasefiremagazine.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/darwish2.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-586" title="LEBANON-PALESTINAIN-DARWISH" src="http://ceasefiremagazine.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/darwish2.jpg" alt="" width="619" height="390" /></a></p>
<p>The more Darwish renewed the call for resistance, the wider his readership grew and spread across the Arab world. His efforts brought the attention to Palestinian suffering which started to become less important and restricted to refugees and the political divisions between Arab countries. It was in these circumstances that the Al-Hadatha# literary school was born in Palestine. Darwish along with other writers such as Emile Habebi (1992-1996) looked for a form of literature that would communicate the national struggle to a wide audience. He found that writing in traditional poetry was too vague and did not deal with the details of the Palestinian catastrophe. Traditional poetry, in the school’s opinion, focused more on the aesthetics of language and the craft of writing poetry, and did not give writers the freedom to express the changes in their new environment.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;">Al-Hadatha developed more in Palestine as the struggle for civil rights continued after 1948. Its development came as a result of the Israeli government imposing censorship on Arabic publications particularly on those discussing Palestine and the theme of homeland. This was not only done through close watching of publications but also through creating an uneducated Palestinian population by preventing the establishment of any Arabic school. Even in Jewish/Israeli schools the number of Arab students was restricted. Between 1955 and 1965 the number of Arab students in secondary schools was three per cent . There was only one hundred Palestinian students in higher education institutions. In this period, the Israeli government opened a few elementary schools for Palestinian students but the school curriculum was censored and restricted. The Israeli government banned anything that mentioned Palestine or its history. It also banned Islamic studies which present Jerusalem as an important part of Muslim identity – a subject highly relevant to the Zionist case for creating the state of Israel. In order to bring more Jewish immigrants from across the world, “an imagined community” idea was formulated. The Zionist narrative insisted that Jews were the legal heirs to Palestine and that they had were deported from it two thousand years ago by the Romans. It also claimed that Muslims, seen as subsequent invaders of the land, should therefore be thrown out.</p>
<p>In secondary schools, Palestinian students were treated with negligence. Teachers did not check whether they did their homework and reviews on the development of Arab students were not conducted. This is in addition to the fact that Palestinian students were learning in a new foreign language. About ninety per cent# of Palestinian students at the time left their studies before reaching secondary school in order to support their families and because teaching standards were low. Only the remaining ten per cent succeeded in their studies and not all of them could afford to go to University. Those who managed to reach universities were faced with serious harassment by their colleagues and teachers. Even after this very small minority graduated from university, they faced the challenges of finding a job of their interest within a government which considered them as second class citizens. This situation led to a dearth of education in Palestine and therefore a lack of literary production amongst both the intelligentsia and the public: both were more concerned about living than writing.</p>
<p>Darwish and other writers had to devise a form of literature which would be free of the restriction of the traditional way of writing poetry. This new form had to be easy but sophisticated enough to address the issues that the Nakba created. These issues were mainly represented in the loss of identity as Palestinians were no longer recognized as citizens of any country (to this day, most Palestinians are regarded as stateless). Therefore, Palestinian writers used Al-Hadatha to help them revive the literary movement in Palestine which allowed writers to express their views freely without following any particular method. While the literature of resistance laid down the basis of the new school, other themes became influenced by the new writing style allowing Al-Hadatha to be the dominant literary movement in the region.</p>
<p>In 1969 Mahmoud Darwish was the first to announce his joining of the new resistance ideology, rebelling against all Israeli censorship, when he wrote his famous poem “Write Down, I am an Arab”. This poem became a manifesto for the resistance movement for years to follow and has been read widely and sung by many generations in Palestine and the Diaspora. The strength of the poem comes from both celebrating Arabism and showing the pain involved in being an Arab.</p>
<address>Identity Card</address>
<address>Register me</address>
<address>I am an Arab</address>
<address>Card No. fifty thousand</address>
<address>Children, eight</address>
<address>The ninth will be born next summer</address>
<address>Are you upset?</address>
<address>Register me</address>
<address>I am an Arab</address>
<address>Vocation: cutting stone with comrades</address>
<address>Must cut bread, clothes and books</address>
<address>For the children, you know</address>
<address>I will never stand at your door a beggar</address>
<address>I am an Arab.</address>
<address>Are you angry?</address>
<address>I am nameless</address>
<address>Patient where everything boils with anger</address>
<address>I struck roots here</address>
<address>Before the olive trees and the poplars</address>
<address>A descendent of the plow-pushers</address>
<address>My ancestors, a mere peasant</address>
<address>No family tree</address>
<address>My home, a cottage of reeds</address>
<address>How is that for a man?</address>
<address>Register me</address>
<address>I am an Arab</address>
<address>Colour of hair, jet black</address>
<address>Eyes, brown</address>
<address>Distinguishing features:</address>
<address>A kuffia and Iqal on my head</address>
<address>Hands rock hard and scratchy</address>
<address>Favourite food: olive oil and thime</address>
<address>Address: a forgotten harmless village</address>
<address>Where streets have no names</address>
<address>And all men are in the fields and quarries</address>
<address>Is that good enough?</address>
<address>You have stolen my vineyard</address>
<address>And the land I used to till</address>
<address>You haven’t left anything for my children</address>
<address>Except the rocks</address>
<address>And I hear it said</address>
<address>That your government will expropriate</address>
<address>Event the rocks</address>
<address>Well then</address>
<address>Register first;</address>
<address>I hate nobody</address>
<address>Neither do I steal</address>
<address>But when I am made hungry</address>
<address>Then I will eat the flesh of my oppressor</address>
<address>Beware of my hunger and my anger</address>
<p>This poem comes as a turning point in the development of the Palestinian literature of resistance. It was the first poem to announce a challenge to and a refusal of the political environment that Palestinians had been living under since 1948. The poem talked not only about Arabism as a subject to be proud of, but also ended with a strong political message that encouraged people to resist. “But when I am made hungry, then I will eat the flesh of my oppressor, beware of hunger and anger” is a line which announces that Palestinian patience had run out. The poem was celebrated in Palestine but also across the entire Arab world, mainly for its celebration of Arabism before Palestinianism &#8211; a concept cherished by Arab nationalists who stressed on the primacy of pan-Arabism over regional nationalisms. The poem celebrates Arabic culture and puts it forward as being ideal regardless of the hardships Arabs face.</p>
<p>While the poem celebrates Arabic traditions and love of children, it highlights the poor economic situation created by imperialism, mainly Israeli. The poem also comes to assert Arab and Palestinian identity in a state where denial of such identity was dominant. The poet does this by highlighting even the physical characteristics of Arabs/Palestinians, different from those of the European newcomers. He talks about the colour of hair and the colour of eyes, and how identity is imperishable.</p>
<address>You have stolen my vineyard</address>
<address>And the land I used to till</address>
<address>“You haven’t left anything for my children</address>
<address>Except the rocks</address>
<address>And I hear it said</address>
<address>That your government will expropriate</address>
<address>Even the rocks”</address>
<p>This stanza also brings to the surface the main reason behind Palestinian suffering, and thus an explanation of the anger. He is telling the Israeli government that they are making it difficult for Palestinians to live anymore, and that death is their only choice. Therefore, Palestinians have to choose between resisting and trying to change this situation or waiting for their death. This is why the poem ends with a warning: be careful from pushing Palestinians towards death.</p>
<p>The literature of resistance has been the drive of many revolutions in Palestine, the latest of which is the second intifada which broke out in 2000. As well as poetry, the literature of resistance continued to grow in other genres such as novels. With more Diaspora writers, like Ghassan Kanafani (1936-1972), the literature of resistance grew and spread across to become a school attended by those have suffered the Nakba and its consequences, and who believe in the right of Palestinians for national independence.</p>
<p>Darwish continued to develop this literature of resistance even when he moved outside of Palestine. His ability to reach all sectors of Palestinian society made him Palestine’s national poet. His poems brought more sympathy towards the Palestinian cause and people through the imagery he provided of the suffering of Palestinians. His works have been translated into several languages including English, French, Spanish and Dutch and he won many international awards. In 2001, he won the Lannan prize for cultural freedom. This prize recognizes people “whose extraordinary and courageous work celebrates the human right to freedom of imagination, inquiry, and expression“. As defined by the foundation, cultural freedom is “the right of individuals and communities to define and protect valued and diverse ways of life currently threatened by globalisation”. And so, two years after his death, Mahmoud Darwish continues to be a byword for freedom, and an undying symbol of resistance, courage and sacrifice.</p>
<p><strong>Ahmed Masoud</strong> is a Palestinian academic and writer. He grew up in Gaza before moving to the U.K to study for an MA and PhD in comparative literature. He is now working as an educational consultant as well as a freelance theatre director. Ahmed has published a number of articles, book chapters and journals in various academic and mainstream publications. He also directed a number of sell-out theatre productions, including the acclaimed <em><a href="http://gotogaza.wordpress.com/go-to-gaza-drink-the-sea/">Go to Gaza, Drink the Sea</a> </em>which premièred both in London and Edinburgh, and more recently<a href="http://www.alzaytouna.org/"> </a><em><a href="http://www.alzaytouna.org/">Between the Fleeting Words</a>, </em>a tribute to Mahmoud Darwish. Masoud has also recently been commissioned to write a play for BBC Radio 4 to be broadcast in January 2011.</p>
<p><em>Notes:</em></p>
<p>1  The term Nakba means catastrophe in Arabic and it refers to the events of 1948 when 800,000 Palestinian were deported and the state of Israel was declared.</p>
<p>2  Palestinian poetess born in 1917, Tuqan is considered to be the founder of the Palestinian feminist nationalist movement which will be discussed in later chapters.</p>
<p>3  Nearest translation is modernism</p>
<p>4  Statistical Databases http://millenniumindicators.un.org/unsd/databases.htm</p>
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		<title>Sowing the Seeds &#8211; Gaza 2009</title>
		<link>http://ceasefiremagazine.co.uk/2009/02/sowing-the-seeds-in-gaza/</link>
		<comments>http://ceasefiremagazine.co.uk/2009/02/sowing-the-seeds-in-gaza/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 23 Feb 2009 06:32:04 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Musab</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Features]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Gaza]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Hamas]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Israel]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Middle East]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Palestine]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2009]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://ceasefiremagazine.co.uk/?p=76</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[<p style="text-align: center;"><img class="aligncenter" src="http://www.populistamerica.com/images/gaza-woman.jpg" alt="A woman in Gaza" width="638" height="480" /></p>'Not surprisingly,' writes Rowan Lubbock, 'the anger and rage that is slowly sprouting form this latest sowing of violence is already visible. As with all episodes in the great chess-game of Middle East power politics, it is the weak that suffer the consequences.'
]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><span style="color: #800000;"><strong>Rowan Lubbock</strong></span></p>
<p><strong>&#8220;Not surprisingly, the anger and rage that is slowly sprouting form this latest sowing of violence is already visible.&#8221;</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em>The children walking in the streets, bitter with tears will be the fedayin in nineteen years, in the next round. Today we lose our victory.</em><br />
Amos Kenan, 1967<sup class='footnote'><a href='#fn-76-1' id='fnref-76-1'>1</a></sup></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><img class="aligncenter" src="http://www.populistamerica.com/images/gaza-woman.jpg" alt="A woman in Gaza" width="638" height="480" /></p>
<p>Israel&#8217;s latest military assault on Gaza that has killed, at the time of writing, over 1000 Palestinians has re-awoken the world to what could reasonably be called a fate worse than death. The strangulation of Gaza&#8217;s 1.5 million residents, enforced since Hamas&#8217;s election victory in 2006, has clearly shown the Palestinians that their choices are worthless, unless they coincide with Israel&#8217;s political and strategic goals. The latest bloodshed is (according to the official Israeli line) a direct response to the homemade rockets launched into southern Israel by militant groups. During the proceeding carnage, the Israeli leadership have also let slip on more than a few occasions their intense interest in ousting the Hamas government altogether in an effort to rebalance the political allegiances of the Occupied Territories more to their favour. But while Israel claims to be protecting its citizens, it is far more likely that ‘Operation Cast Lead&#8217; is merely sowing the seeds for the next round of violence &#8211; a narrative that is all to familiar in this tortured strip of land.</p>
<p>The latest horrors unleashed in the Gaza strip are, according to conservative columnist Charles Krauthammer, to be blamed on Hamas, &#8220;which started this conflict with unrelenting rocket and mortar attacks on unarmed Israelis&#8221;. Given the available evidence to the contrary, it is surprising how often this chain of events in peddled in the mainstream media. The realities of the situation were soon after uncomfortably ingested by the guardians of truth, most notably this example from CNN <sup class='footnote'><a href='#fn-76-2' id='fnref-76-2'>2</a></sup> ,  and has since been cited on an infrequent basis. One Israeli commentator to have recalled the source of the conflict before most others noted that, &#8220;the lull between Israel and Hamas, which lasted about five months, was violated in the wake of Israeli military activity within the Gaza Strip [on 4 November] that prompted Qassam barrages&#8221;<sup class='footnote'><a href='#fn-76-3' id='fnref-76-3'>3</a></sup></p>
<p>Those who follow developments in the Middle East will no doubt be wondering what made Hamas&#8217;s retaliatory rocket fire so provocative this time round. The fall out from the 2006 Lebanon War has undeniably played a crucial role in this regard.</p>
<p>Hezbollah&#8217;s ‘victory&#8217; in Lebanon (insofar as the group has survived to fight another day) over Israel&#8217;s overwhelming military superiority became at once a reminder of Robert McNamara&#8217;s retrospective reasoning as to the resilience of indigenous guerrilla movements <sup class='footnote'><a href='#fn-76-4' id='fnref-76-4'>4</a></sup>, and a stark example of how politically valuable the idea of armed resistance could be in this fragile country. As Charles Harb observes, &#8220;Lebanese dignitaries from across the political and religious spectrum, Muslims and Christians alike, were lined up to welcome the freed prisoners, in a display of unity not seen since the earlier prisoner exchange of 2004. While many had previously lamented the cost of war and resistance, they now seemed eager to share in the glory of welcoming the last Lebanese prisoners of war&#8221;. <sup class='footnote'><a href='#fn-76-5' id='fnref-76-5'>5</a></sup></p>
<p>While Israel has stuck loyally to its 2006 alibi (responding to the abduction of two Israeli soldiers), we soon discovered during the deliberations of the Winograd Commission that such an operation had been planned months before the two IDF soldiers were abducted <sup class='footnote'><a href='#fn-76-6' id='fnref-76-6'>6</a></sup>.  Israel&#8217;s military brass considered the war&#8217;s outcome as a slap in the face, as their &#8220;deterrent&#8221; capacity to terrorise the region had been seemingly destroyed. As New York Times&#8217; Thomas Friedman, notes: &#8220;[Israel's] only long-term source of deterrence was to exact enough pain on the civilians &#8211; the families and employers of the militants &#8211; to restrain Hezbollah in the future&#8221; <sup class='footnote'><a href='#fn-76-7' id='fnref-76-7'>7</a></sup>.  &#8220;There is&#8221;, therefore, according to former head of Israel&#8217;s National Security Council, Giora Eiland, &#8220;one lesson here for Israel&#8230;&#8221;: [the next] war, should it break out, would bring about Lebanon&#8217;s destruction&#8230; This is the almost [<em>sic</em>] only way to create deterrence vis-à-vis an organization that attaches such great importance to its domestic Lebanese legitimacy&#8221;. <sup class='footnote'><a href='#fn-76-8' id='fnref-76-8'>8</a></sup></p>
<p>Thus, as the cheerleaders of state-sponsored terrorism convey the strategic rationale driving the policy of the Middle East&#8217;s only democracy, the overall picture in Gaza comes into sharper focus. True to form, we now know that Operation Cast Lead was similarly planned months in advance of Israel&#8217;s November 4 attack, utilizing techniques of disinformation to gain the upper hand with Hamas that &#8220;served to significantly increase the number of its casualties in the strike&#8221; <sup class='footnote'><a href='#fn-76-9' id='fnref-76-9'>9</a></sup>.  Thus, the latest round of violence in Gaza is directly descended from the lessons learned from the 2006 Lebanon war. As Deputy Chief of staff Brigadier General Dan Harel explained a few days after the start of the bombing campaign: &#8220;After this operation there will not be a single Hamas building left standing in Gaza, and we plan to change the rules of the game&#8221; <sup class='footnote'><a href='#fn-76-10' id='fnref-76-10'>10</a></sup>.  But Israel has not changed the rules of the game &#8211; it has merely entrenched the age-old orientalist adage: Arabs only understand the language of force. &#8220;&#8230;[T]his is the most aggressive line that we have ever taken towards fighting the Palestinians&#8221;, said one IDF liutenant, &#8220;As you say in English, the gloves were off&#8221;. <sup class='footnote'><a href='#fn-76-11' id='fnref-76-11'>11</a></sup></p>
<p>It is clear why Israel chooses to speak in such a language. As long as the PLO presented itself as merely a security threat, so the logic went, Israel could confidently rely on its one trump card: a terrifyingly effective military machine. One of the great crises of Israel&#8217;s occupation came during one of Palestine&#8217;s only peaceful mass-resistance movements (Intifada) aimed directly at the Zionist regime in the territories, beginning in December 1987. But if the PLO and the people they represented were to turn away from violence, then the entire military equation would be altered. As the prominent Israeli intellectual, Shlomo Avineri, noted at the time, &#8220;[a]n army can beat an army, but an army cannot beat a people&#8221; <sup class='footnote'><a href='#fn-76-12' id='fnref-76-12'>12</a></sup>.  As the Intifada proceeded, the US State Department noted that by January 1989 a total of 11 Israelis and 366 Palestinians had been killed during the Intifada <sup class='footnote'><a href='#fn-76-13' id='fnref-76-13'>13</a></sup>.  Yet Israel&#8217;s iron fisted approach to popular (and non-violent) resistance was proving fruitless.</p>
<p>It was at this point that the classic occupier&#8217;s game of divide and rule would prove so useful. Never before faced with a truly popular political movement, Israel&#8217;s only option was to divide the movement itself. But, as the Scottish poet Robert Burns so momentously wrote, &#8220;The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry&#8221;. Or, to put a more contemporary twist on this turn of phrase, as Israel&#8217;s Defence Minister Ehud Barak recently told Yediot Ahronot, &#8220;One of the lessons learned in the Middle East is to never try to anticipate the other side&#8217;s moves. I hate to remind you that 20 years ago we supported the induction of Hamas&#8221; <sup class='footnote'><a href='#fn-76-14' id='fnref-76-14'>14</a></sup>.</p>
<p>The rationale behind supporting an Islamist group in the Occupied Territories since the early 80&#8217;s, as described by then US Ambassador Daniel Kurtzer in 2001, was that &#8220;Israel perceived it to be better to have people turning toward religion rather than toward a nationalistic cause&#8221;, such that the PLO and the Intifada represented <sup class='footnote'><a href='#fn-76-15' id='fnref-76-15'>15</a></sup>. But these &#8220;nationalistic&#8221; groups were not quite as easy to mollify as they once were. The problem, as clearly spelled out in a 1988 report form the Washington Institute for Near East Policy, was that &#8220;the pragmatic element &#8211; the traditional, middle class elites in the West Bank who accommodated themselves to the Israeli occupation &#8211; [had] been undermined&#8221; by the Intifada <sup class='footnote'><a href='#fn-76-16' id='fnref-76-16'>16</a></sup>.</p>
<p>It was therefore hoped that Hamas could similarly undermine the PLO&#8217;s base of support by becoming a counter-weight to the forces of secular nationalism. But Hamas&#8217;s very legitimacy rested on its decision either to continue its acquiescence (albeit a reactionary one) to the status quo, or to support the Intifada. Not surprisingly, it eventually chose the latter. After its requests for political inclusion were shunned by the PLO (believing the group, justifiably, to be a pawn of Israeli-US rejectionism), Hamas now started to see its political future in standing opposed to Israel&#8217;s vacuous &#8220;peace process&#8221;.</p>
<p>As the PLO inched ever closer to the US-Israeli sponsored plan for Palestinian &#8220;autonomy&#8221;, which was more of a euphemism for &#8220;self-occupation&#8221;, Hamas began to conduct a series of worker strikes in the Gaza strip, eventually leading to fatal clashes between itself and Fatah. By December 1992, Hamas had irreversibly turned to violent resistance, partly driven by its insistence on freeing all of historic Palestine, but mostly due to its drive to regain some political ground from the PLO by presenting itself to a weary and frustrated Palestinian population as the only credible resistance movement in the territories. The flame of the Intifada had now been extinguished.<sup class='footnote'><a href='#fn-76-17' id='fnref-76-17'>17</a></sup></p>
<p>Since announcing the Israeli-Palestinian Declaration of Principles in 1993 the situation facing ordinary Palestinians has steadily deteriorated. According to Israeli historian Ilan Pappe, the source of Israel&#8217;s continued oppression derives from the fact that the Palestinians could only &#8220;get to the final status negotiations to the extent that it safeguard[ed] Israel&#8217;s security concerns during the interim ["autonomy"] period&#8221; <sup class='footnote'><a href='#fn-76-18' id='fnref-76-18'>18</a></sup>. The Israeli foil was therefore complete; the people were divided, and Israel&#8217;s occupation continued.</p>
<p>While this period has been amply covered elsewhere <sup class='footnote'><a href='#fn-76-19' id='fnref-76-19'>19</a></sup>,  the legacy of the &#8220;peace process&#8221; came under sharp scrutiny soon after Hamas&#8217;s surprise victory in 2006. According to the New York Times, US officials assigned &#8220;most of the blame on Mr. Abbas for not offering a positive alternative to Hamas&#8221;, despite the glaring fact that Abbas has consistently failed to elicit &#8220;American help in persuading Israel to curb settlement growth, release prisoners and lift the checkpoints and roadblocks choking off livelihoods in the West Bank&#8221; <sup class='footnote'><a href='#fn-76-20' id='fnref-76-20'>20</a></sup></p>
<p>Now that the Palestinians have broken with what they perceive as Fatah&#8217;s collaboration with Israel, they have been feeling the full force of Israel&#8217;s disapproval. Having placed all their bets on Mahmoud Abbas&#8217;s Palestinian Authority (PA), US and Israeli officials were shocked to learn of the widespread disillusionment among the Palestinian electorate. Immediately, plans were drawn up to oust Hamas in a US-Israeli sponsored coup, and to be carried out by the PA forces in Gaza. After achieving a legitimate political victory through the ballot box, however, one could only expect Hamas to harbour a few sour grapes over this attempted putsch. As one of Dick Cheney&#8217;s ex-neocon underlings, David Wurmser, said closer to the time, &#8220;It looks to me that what happened wasn&#8217;t so much a coup by Hamas but an attempted coup by Fatah that was pre-empted before it could happen&#8221;.<sup class='footnote'><a href='#fn-76-21' id='fnref-76-21'>21</a></sup>.</p>
<p>The current bloodletting is, therefore, merely the expression of Israel&#8217;s frustration with Hamas&#8217;s intransigence in refusing to accommodate itself with the continued (albeit &#8220;remote&#8221;) occupation of Gaza <sup class='footnote'><a href='#fn-76-22' id='fnref-76-22'>22</a></sup>.  While there has been a great deal of talk concerning the new &#8220;security environment&#8221; at the border, or the supposed success in destroying the Hamas &#8220;infrastructure&#8221; (meaning the party itself), more sober-headed prognoses have recently started to emerge. As one New York Times editorial notes:</p>
<p style="padding-left: 30px;">Israeli officials acknowledge that the 20-day offensive has not permanently crippled Hamas&#8217;s military wing or ended its ability to launch rocket attacks. It is unlikely that Israel can achieve those aims militarily any time soon. The cost in human life and anti-Israeli fury would be enormous. Already more than 1,000 Palestinians have died in the densely populated Gaza Strip, where an always miserable life has become unbearable.<sup class='footnote'><a href='#fn-76-23' id='fnref-76-23'>23</a></sup></p>
<p>Not surprisingly, the anger and rage that is slowly sprouting form this latest sowing of violence is already visible. As one Gazan resident told the Washington Post soon after the IDF&#8217;s disengagement, &#8220;My house used to be here&#8230; The only reason people don&#8217;t blow themselves up against the Israeli army&#8230; is that they can&#8217;t find explosives&#8221; <sup class='footnote'><a href='#fn-76-24' id='fnref-76-24'>24</a></sup> Despite the lunacy in creating such a state of affairs, Israeli leaders can expect to accrue additional strategic benefits from the complete destruction of Gaza. The political revival of Labor&#8217;s Ehud Barak has certainly played a major part, not to mention the prospect of sowing divisions throughout the wider Middle East that ultimately helps Israel to isolate the region&#8217;s undesirables, namely Iran. <sup class='footnote'><a href='#fn-76-25' id='fnref-76-25'>25</a></sup></p>
<p>But as with all episodes in the great chess-game of Middle East power politics, it is the weak that suffer the consequences. Now that the Palestinian people have been effectively abandoned by the great powers for exercising their &#8220;freedom to choose&#8221;, they are being systematically punished for having the courage to live on under the most extreme military occupation for the last 40 years. After the dust has settled, we must not forget their cries for recognition, their calls for independence, or their right to resist those who would seek to dismantle the very fabric of their future homeland.
<div class='footnotes'>
<div class='footnotedivider'></div>
<ol>
<li id='fn-76-1'><em>Israel, Palestinians and the Intifada </em>(1990), p.19.&gt; <span class='footnotereverse'><a href='#fnref-76-1'>&#8617;</a></span></li>
<li id='fn-76-2'>http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KntmpoRXFX4 <span class='footnotereverse'><a href='#fnref-76-2'>&#8617;</a></span></li>
<li id='fn-76-3'><a href="http://www.ynet.co.il/english/articles/0,7340,L-3631698,00.html.">Orly Noy, “Will hunger stop rockets?”, <em>Yediot Ahronoth</em>, December 1 2008.</a>
<p>See also <a href="http://icga.blogspot.com/2009/01/end-game-in-gaza-war.html">this piece</a> by Augustus Richard Norton and Sara Roy, “End Game in the Gaza War?”, in which the authors note that: &#8220;the Israel-Hamas truce was working—a fact fully acknowledged in a recent intelligence report released by Israel’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs (MFA). According to that report, &#8216;Hamas was careful to maintain the ceasefire.’ Furthermore, ‘the lull was sporadically violated by rocket and mortar shell fire carried out by rogue terrorist organizations in some instances in defiance of Hamas&#8217;.&#8221; <span class='footnotereverse'><a href='#fnref-76-3'>&#8617;</a></span></li>
<li id='fn-76-4'>As McNamara notes in his autobiography of the Vietnam War, In Retrospect, US policymakers “underestimated the power of nationalism to motivate a people… to fight and die for their beliefs and values”. Cited in, Robert McMahon, The Limits of Empire (1999), p.131. <span class='footnotereverse'><a href='#fnref-76-4'>&#8617;</a></span></li>
<li id='fn-76-5'><a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2008/jul/18/israelandthepalestinians.lebanon"> Charles Harb, “The secret of Hizbullah’s success”, the Guardian, July 18 2008 </a> <span class='footnotereverse'><a href='#fnref-76-5'>&#8617;</a></span></li>
<li id='fn-76-6'>For a summary of the report, see, http://www.nytimes.com/2008/01/30/world/middleeast/31winograd-web.html?_r=1&amp;pagewanted=print <span class='footnotereverse'><a href='#fnref-76-6'>&#8617;</a></span></li>
<li id='fn-76-7'><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2009/01/14/opinion/14friedman.html?pagewanted=print"> Thomas L. Friedman, “Israel’s Goals in Gaza”, New York Times, January 14 2009 </a><a> <span class='footnotereverse'><a href='#fnref-76-7'>&#8617;</a></span></li>
<li id='fn-76-8'></a><a href="http://www.ynetnews.com/articles/0,7340,L-3543998,00.html">Giora Eiland, “Lebanon isn’t a spectator”, Yediot Ahronoth, May 16 2008</a> <span class='footnotereverse'><a href='#fnref-76-8'>&#8617;</a></span></li>
<li id='fn-76-9'><a href="http://www.haaretz.com/hasen/spages/1050426.html"> Barak Ravid, “Disinformation, secrecy and lies: How the Gaza offensive came about”, Haaretz, December 31 2008 </a><a> <span class='footnotereverse'><a href='#fnref-76-9'>&#8617;</a></span></li>
<li id='fn-76-10'></a><a href="http://www.abc.net.au/news/stories/2008/12/30/2456334.htm">Matt Brown, “Israel vows to destroy Hamas brick by brick”, December 30 2008</a> <span class='footnotereverse'><a href='#fnref-76-10'>&#8617;</a></span></li>
<li id='fn-76-11'><a href="http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/world/middle_east/article5512123.ece">Sheera Frenkel, “Gaza: Israeli troops reveal ruthless tactics against Hamas”, The Times, January 14 2009</a> <span class='footnotereverse'><a href='#fnref-76-11'>&#8617;</a></span></li>
<li id='fn-76-12'>Avi Shlaim, The Iron Wall (2001), p.454 <span class='footnotereverse'><a href='#fnref-76-12'>&#8617;</a></span></li>
<li id='fn-76-13'>Mike Berry and Greg Philo, Israel and Palestine: Competing Histories (2006), 85-6. <span class='footnotereverse'><a href='#fnref-76-13'>&#8617;</a></span></li>
<li id='fn-76-14'><a href="http://www.ynet.co.il/english/articles/0,7340,L-3539301,00.html"> Sima Kadmon and Alex Fishman, &#8220;Barak: Nothing can destroy Israel&#8221;, Yediot Ahronoth, May 7 2008</a> <span class='footnotereverse'><a href='#fnref-76-14'>&#8617;</a></span></li>
<li id='fn-76-15'><a href="http://www.larouchepub.com/other/2002/2902isr_hamas.html">Dean Andromidas, “Israeli Roots of Hamas Are Being Exposed”, Executive Intelligence Review, January 18 2002</a> <span class='footnotereverse'><a href='#fnref-76-15'>&#8617;</a></span></li>
<li id='fn-76-16'>Kathleen Christison, Perceptions of Palestine (1999), p.248. <span class='footnotereverse'><a href='#fnref-76-16'>&#8617;</a></span></li>
<li id='fn-76-17'>For a fuller account, see Graham Usher, Dispatches from Palestine (1999), ch. 2. <span class='footnotereverse'><a href='#fnref-76-17'>&#8617;</a></span></li>
<li id='fn-76-18'>Usher, p.36 <span class='footnotereverse'><a href='#fnref-76-18'>&#8617;</a></span></li>
<li id='fn-76-19'>See, for example, Edward Said, <em>Peace and Its Discontents </em>(1995); George Giacaman and Dag Jørund Lønning (eds.), <em>After Oslo </em>(1998); “Five Years After the Oslo Agreement: Human Rights Sacrificed for Security” <em>Amnesty International </em>(1998); Avi Shlaim, <em>The Iron Wall </em>(2001), pp.502-96. For a good, concise account of the ‘Oslo’ years, see also Naseer H. Aruri, <em>Dishonest Broker: The U.S. Role in Israel and Palestine </em>(2003), pp. 74-126 and 167-89. <span class='footnotereverse'><a href='#fnref-76-19'>&#8617;</a></span></li>
<li id='fn-76-20'><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2006/01/30/international/middleeast/30diplo.html?pagewanted=print">Steven R. Weisman, “Rice Admits U.S. Underestimated Hamas Strength”, New York Times, January 30 2006</a>. On the issue of settlements, Haaretz’s Danny Rubenstein has noted that during the Oslo period, &#8220;as before, the great momentum of settlement continued. The population of settlers grew from 100,000 to over 200,000 during the 1990s.” (Haaretz, 25 September 2006). <span class='footnotereverse'><a href='#fnref-76-20'>&#8617;</a></span></li>
<li id='fn-76-21'><a href="http://www.vanityfair.com/politics/features/2008/04/gaza200804">David Rose, “The Gaza bombshell”, Vanity Fair, April 2008</a> <span class='footnotereverse'><a href='#fnref-76-21'>&#8617;</a></span></li>
<li id='fn-76-22'><a href="http://electronicintifada.net/v2/article3032.shtml">See, Linh Truong, “Gaza Disengagement: Palestinian concerns ignored”, August 24 2004</a> <span class='footnotereverse'><a href='#fnref-76-22'>&#8617;</a></span></li>
<li id='fn-76-23'><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2009/01/16/opinion/16fri1.html?pagewanted=print">Editorial, “A Way out of Gaza?”, New York Times,  January 16 2009</a> <span class='footnotereverse'><a href='#fnref-76-23'>&#8617;</a></span></li>
<li id='fn-76-24'><a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/01/19/AR2009011902998.html?hpid=topnews">Theodore May, “Slow Steps Toward Normalcy”, The Washington Post, January 20 2009</a>. <span class='footnotereverse'><a href='#fnref-76-24'>&#8617;</a></span></li>
<li id='fn-76-25'>See <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2009/01/08/world/middleeast/08barak.html?ref=middleeast&amp;pagewanted=print">Ethan Bronner, “Gaza War Role Is Political Lift for Ex-Premier”, New York Times, January 8 2009</a> and Steven Lee Myers, “The New Meaning of an Old Battle”, New York Times, January 3 2009 <span class='footnotereverse'><a href='#fnref-76-25'>&#8617;</a></span></li>
</ol>
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