Thursday, March 24, 2011

I am the embodiment of emotion. I am rage, anticipation, and intense sadness.

Libya and the State of Humanity

I am not a writer. At this very moment, I am the embodiment of emotion. I am rage, anticipation, and intense sadness.
In my encounters with politics I am told not to argue emotionally, but only logically. But I wonder if it is this exact advice that compels man to slaughter those who have not yet had the mental capacity to sin or to wrong. I wonder if it is this same advice that has allowed people to turn a blind eye to the bloodbaths in the desecrated streets of Libya. Or is it that it is easier to continue with our daily routines and muffle the desperate cries for help? Or is it that we have just forgotten? My strong emotion is due to the fact that my identity transcends beyond Palestinian and beyond American. The death of Mohammed Nabbous triggered in me such grief, yet it brought me to a great realization. I had been awake the morning before his death past 3am with my heart pounding. I watched the videos he had posted of the bullet-ridden homes, blood-splattered pillows, and skeletons of cars that had been hit by missiles. I had fallen asleep to the audio of him yelling to the driver to drive away and heard loud gunshots in the background. And I awoke the next morning, less than 6 hours later, to learn of his tragic death. I returned to the link to hear the quivering voice of his wife, announcing his death. And at that moment, the struggle became personal.

It dawned on me that the death toll at that point was somewhere around 8,000 civilians. I had attended protests calling for the liberty of the Libyan people. I posted and shared every link I had come across informing of Qaddafi’s tyranny. But why had it taken me so long to be this emotionally attached to the noble cause of the Libyan people? The numbers I had seen had meant just that: numbers. A cause does not become your own until you can connect with it on an emotional level. I feel that one might not embody a struggle until one feels the pain, until one is moved. Until then, it is just another struggle being fought on some far away land. I had to hear Mohammed Nabbous’ voice just hours before his death to feel the pain to move me to the point of tears. After that, every death had a story in my mind and the cause had become mine. The blood-splattered pillows were no longer visual effects, but I saw my blood on those pillows; my house became ridden with bullet holes; the cars in my driveway were nothing but skeletons. Embodying the cause allowed me to feel rage at the atrocities committed against the Libyans as I anticipated the drastic change to come for the better, and then settled the intense sadness at the realization of the cost of the change. Strong emotion allowed me to commit to devoting time and effort to my cause and to keep the remembrance of the Libyans alive throughout day.
The death toll is now well above 10,000. That’s over 10,000 families that mourn the loss of a loved one. That’s 10,000 stories. Once we understand the bond of humanity we share with these victims, we may be able to mourn as these losses are our own and we may be able to see these stories. We may be able to become emotional which will, in turn, drive us to further our efforts in the cause. It is our cause. We have the right, more-so the obligation, to argue emotionally. We can argue emotionally because we are enraged that our people are being slaughtered, imprisoned, and threatened. We are distraught at the sub-human treatment of our people.
Mohammed Nabbous was killed pleading to the world to listen to the stories of the people. When we begin to believe that these numbers are merely numbers and disregard these stories, we forget that this is our collective struggle, ultimately ignoring his desperate plea.
Hadeel K. is a Palestinian-American student at Benedictine University. At Benedictine, she co-founded Students for Justice in Palestine (SJP). Hadeel is also on the executive board of the Chicago chapter of American Association for Equal Rights (AAPER).

7 Responses to “Libya and the State of Humanity”

  1. CherzMarch 21, 2011 at 6:28 pm
    Beautifully written, thank you.
    I believe the Libyans have successfully made this an issue for all people, not just “our people”. Maybe I’m naive in believing this, but it is simply a human issue for me.
  2. @carolv27March 21, 2011 at 6:37 pm
    I felt the same way Hadeel, I was also online until almost 3:00 am here in Chicagoland watching Mo’s broadcast and woke up to the news of his assassination. Perditta’s audio was absolutely heartbreaking.
    I’m not Libyan either, but I am human and I emotionally too. Weeks ago I caught myself sobbing in a public library in total shock when I first got the news that Gaddafi loyalists were throwing tear gas inside hospitals and killing doctors, nurses, patients, even throwing hand grenades at ambulances in Tripoli a couple days before Internet was cut off (march 3rd).
    I’ve been to the rallies in Grant Park and I’ve been twitting “furiously” since then. Yet, I was not prepared to hear the news of Mo’s death. He used to say he was “too much of a devil to end up killed” and I tried to believe, but every time he was out that door all I could think of was “go back, please, go back!”
    I heard someone on twitter say that he had finally turned into an angel. What I know is that I too felt like I lost a friend.
    (hug!)
    Carol
  3. Kathleen Mc Kenna-CooperMarch 21, 2011 at 7:17 pm
    Hello & Carol,
    I live in Chicago also. I was touched by Mo as well. Knowing him, even if so briefly, he has made me want to be a better person. I left the following tribute to him on his memorial fb page. The loss of him is so, so sad, but somehow he has lighten many, many candles in his passing. That little light of his, he has sure let it shine.
    KMcCoop98
    Facebook tribute – Lost a new friend in almost the same moment I met him
    I had been following the news from Libya mostly from AJE, US media, fb & Twitter. I just started following Libya Alhurra’s livestream yesterday. I was so impressed by Mo’s bravery and integrity, I couldn’t stop watching. Before, I knew it, it was 3:00 in the morning (Chicago time). I continued to watch as Mo reported the atrocities in the Dollar area, and then I listened as he reported from the front lines. I worried along with others, after his phone went out and began to pray for him. I was so saddened some hours later, when his wife, Perditta reported on his death. I will pray for Mo’s soul, Perditta’s spirit, their child’s future, and all of Libya. I never spoke directly to Mo, nor did I join the chat room, until after his death to give my condolences. This man brushed across my life, as quickly and as lightly as the wind, but his memory will be forever in my heart, as if it has been scared. Mohamed Nabbous’s child WILL know of his/her father, as the history books cannot be written with out his story
    • Kathleen Mc Kenna-CooperMarch 21, 2011 at 7:21 pm
      Sorry, I meant to say Hello Hadeel & Carol. I Apologizes for the omission. It was truly just a typo.
      KMcCoop98
  4. IanMarch 21, 2011 at 7:34 pm
    wonderful and wonder-filled. how astounding the shifts that personal involvment in individualized incidents & people. I cried today @ the ppl, children, cats and puppy dogs, and all the other creatures. how little we love our wondrous earth.
    You must help to create a more caring, loving, compassionate better Libya, which can be a Light for the world.
    a permanent way will hv 2 b found 2 honour all those souls pure enough to hv given their lives for freedom.
    many many blessings.
  5. FreeArabia(@Legz66)March 24, 2011 at 6:42 am
    Hi, Hadeel
    To me it felt like losing a close friend. I try and remember what Perditta’s said when i get realy sad. Mo is Jaheed, there is no reason for tears. Sometimes it helps, sometimes it doesnt. I’m an atheist so i’m left with “He died for a better Libya, and freedom for his ppl.”
    To me it doesnt make up for losing him, i saw a bright future for this tall charming young guy.
    I hope new broadcasting stations in a liberated free Libya remeber and honor his name.