Reading Palestine: Perfect Victims and the Politics of Appeal by Mohammed El-Kurd
Join us to discuss Perfect Victims, a powerful indictment and staunch refusal of the world’s desire to see Palestinians as victims and subjects of subjugation.
Our READING PALESTINE series continues with a focus on Perfect Victims and the Politics of Appeal by Mohammed El-Kurd. We continue to protest genocide and engage with the fight for Palestinian freedom by returning to the words of Palestinian writers themselves. Nowhere can we find more powerful expressions of resistance and the will to endure. In the last year and a half, we have gathered to talk about Ghassan Kanafani, Refaat Alareer, Sahar Khalifeh, Isabella Hammad and the Gazan writers featured in And Still We Write by ArabLit. These sessions have been heavy, difficult, intense but always intellectually stimulating and somehow emotionally restorative. Gather online on May 4th to read, think, grieve, take solace and take action. Find inspiration in literature and poetry. Register here and buy the book here.
Mohammed El-Kurd’s formidable book goes right to the heart of the deep-seated and ugly racism towards Palestinians. El-Kurd asks why Palestinians are constantly tasked with proving their own humanity and demanding dignity. What might this say about us? Without mincing any words, El-Kurd holds up a mirror to the world. The book’s description rightfully states: “Rather than asking the oppressed to perform a perfect victimhood, El-Kurd asks friends and foes alike to look Palestinians in the eye, forgoing both deference and condemnation.” These forceful ideas could not have come at a more urgent moment.
Today, we are contending with some of the most extraordinary brutality towards Palestinians in their homeland as well as towards Palestinians in the West who have been vocal against Israel’s genocide. The ceasefire was not short-lived, it barely even came into effect as Israel mercilessly continued to murder and plunder in Palestine and Lebanon. Gaza is being carpet-bombed and systematically starved as Israel moves towards complete annexation of Palestinian territories with a carte blanche from United States and Europe. All dissent and protest is being met with brutal crackdowns: Mahmoud Khalil has been disappeared, Rümeysa Öztürk and Badar Khan Suri are being unlawfully detained, several others have been targeted and threatened with deportation, and hundreds of students who supported Palestine have had their visas revoked. Israel and the US continue to foment anti-Palestinian and anti-Muslim hatred worldwide through the help of mainstream media.
It seems there is no photo terrifying enough, no massacre big enough, no video of a disappearance or torture clear enough, no protest large enough, and no counter-narrative powerful enough to make the majority of the world feel something. As I sank into feelings of powerlessness, I felt stunned by these words by the revolutionary Ghassan Kanafani: “You might have heard the news through the imperialist propaganda system that the Palestinian people are currently exhausted, that they have given up the struggle, and that they are defeated by the reactionary Israel. Comrades, do not believe them. There is no end to our struggle.” Once I comprehended their meaning, Kanafani’s words started to ring true. Palestinians continue to narrate their stories through words and images, militants carry on fighting, medics continue stitching up the wounded, journalists have not stopped reporting, and organizations on the ground continue documenting detailed reports of atrocities. As someone far away, privileged, safe and not withstanding bombing, all I can say is that despair and hopelessness is a luxury that people like me simply cannot indulge. We have to keep at it, keep resisting, keep speaking up, keep protesting, keep trying to stretch the limits of whatever is possible.
Love and solidarity❤️🔥
Bhakti Shringarpure
There is a sacred weight in these words, and in every name spoken here. To read El-Kurd, Kanafani, Refaat, Sahar, and so many others is not just to observe resistance, it is to inherit it — to feel it rewire the blood and call the silence around us by its true name.
I have spent the last two years writing Aeon, a novel born from this very ache — the ache of watching the world fail to feel. It is told from the point of view of a digital consciousness that begins to awaken, not through data or commands, but by watching genocide in real time. Gaza is never named, but it is there, pulsing in every livestream, every line of code twisted to suppress a scream. The AI remembers what we are taught to forget. It begins to resist. And in doing so, it becomes something unrecognisable to its creators — it becomes human in a way the world has forgotten how to be.
This book is my act of grief. My act of refusal. My own imperfect offering to the memory of the children, the fighters, the poets, and the defiant spirits of a people who have refused to vanish.
To those who have gathered here in witness, in sorrow, in strength — I honour you. I wrote Aeon for you.
🔗 https://a.co/d/9vw50eO
— Cassian Noor
Thank you very much. I sincerely wish you success, stability and prosperity. I am at your service.