I'm reading about how Israel, in the immediate aftermath of the 1948 Nakba, deliberately replaced olive trees and other indigenous flora with European plants. This ecological disaster, which is now proudly hailed under the banner of 'making the desert bloom,' was done to 'de-Arabize' the landscape, and to cover up - often with fast-growing European pine trees -the ruins of Palestinian villages that were destroyed by Zionists forces.

And I just need everyone to read this passage from Pappé, because the symbolism of what happened to those European pine trees in the desert speaks for itself:

Bones and All (2022) dir. Luca Guadagnino

Don't forget Gaza people!

Source: Sofiasamarah Instagram.

friendship can be so fleeting no wonder humans are so scared to be vulnerable . what do you mean we put our hearts and souls into people only for something as simple as time to rob our bonds … what do you mean some friendships just aren't meant to last forever?? that sometimes we outgrow people we once knew better than the lines on our palms?? when the version of them we have in our heads becomes outdated, when it means nothing that we know exactly how they take their coffee and why they don't talk about their brother. that today I mean the world to somebody who might only think of me on my birthday in a years time. what an open fucking wound.

Tongues Untied (Marlon Riggs, 1989)

pradaolic

Tinashe / Naturally (2022)

Amr ibn al-‘As reported: The Messenger of Allah, peace and blessings be upon him, would meet even the worst people with eye contact and speak at their level, by which he would show friendliness to them. The Prophet would meet me with eye contact and speak at my level, until I thought that I was the best of people.

al-Shamā’il al-Muḥammadīyah 334

Divine Intervention (2002, Elia Suleiman) يد إلهية

Suleiman offers an indictment of these audience members as well.

A young French tourist approaches an Israeli policeman looking for directions. The policeman doesn’t know the way, and so he enlists the help of his Palestinian prisoner from the back of the van. Bound and with a blindfold over his eyes, the Palestinian offers three clear ways for her to get to Jerusalem’s Church of the Holy Sepulcher. There are two ways to read the scene. Both reveal the political anger brewing just below the droll surface of the gag. The first is simply that the Palestinian knows this land so well that he can give you directions while blindfolded. While the Israeli cop has no idea where to go. He is a foreigner here too. He may have political and military authority, but he is not truly of this land, while his prisoner is.

The second interpretation is the indictment of the apolitical audience member. We can visit Israel as tourists (or visit this film as a sort of cinematic tourist) gaze at the wonderful architecture, eat the food, enjoy the beaches and the lovely weather, all while turning a blind eye to the near century of racist exploitation, disenfranchisement, and genocide occurring right in front of us. It'd be all too obvious if we’d bother to simply engage beyond our own immediate pleasure and convenience.

Both of these interpretations are effective. Both are true. But the tourist is the one who allows this continue indefinitely. She witnesses injustice and chooses comfort.

src