For artists, it is difficult to reflect on the past year without thinking of the Israeli genocide in Gaza that killed more than 45,000 Palestinians by the official count or more than 220,000 by realistic estimates.
While art is something to be enjoyed, as it enriches every aspect of our lives, our identities and our culture, it is also at the heart of the struggle. Art is powerful, it allows us to share emotions and stories with people around the world even if we don’t share a common language. Israel knows this, and that is why it targets anyone who has the talent and passion to convey messages about the horrible reality in Gaza.
Indeed, Israel appears to be using it as a tactic in its broader strategy of ethnic cleansing aimed at eliminating Palestinians who inspire not only their own people, but all those who fight against injustice.
Painters, illustrators, poets, photographers, writers, designers… so many talented Palestinians have already been killed. It is our responsibility to ensure that they are not forgotten. They are not numbers and their work should always be remembered.
We need to talk about Heba Zagout, a 39-year-old painter, poet and novelist, killed with two of her children during an Israeli airstrike. Her rich paintings of Palestinian women and the holy sites of Jerusalem were her way of speaking to the “outside world.”
We must mention the name of the famous painter and art teacher Fathi Ghaben, whose beautiful works that captured the Palestinian resistance should be seen by all.
We must teach the words of Refaat Alareer, one of Gaza’s most brilliant writers and teachers, who taught at the Islamic University of Gaza.
We need to talk about the beauty of the art of Mahasen al-Khatib, killed by an Israeli airstrike on the Jabalia refugee camp. In her latest illustration, she pays tribute to Shaban al-Dalou, 19, who was burned to death during the Israeli attack on the Al-Aqsa hospital compound.
We must also remind the world of the writer Yousef Dawwas, the novelist Noor al-din Hajjaj, the poet Muhamed Ahmed, the cartoonist Walaa al-Faranji and the photographer Majd Arandas.
However, ensuring that their stories and works are not erased also means that we must take action, wherever we are. Honoring these martyrs and celebrating their art requires going beyond words.
Some players in the art world already know this. They joined the resistance within art spaces and ensured that Israel’s crimes were exposed on their platforms. Many acts of solidarity and courage have been committed over the past year.
When London’s Barbican Center canceled Indian writer Pankaj Mishra’s lecture on the Palestinian genocide in February, art collectors Lorenzo Legarda Leviste and Fahad Mayet removed works by Loretta Pettway from the centre’s gallery.
“It is up to us all to resist institutional violence and demand transparency and accountability in its wake…We will never accept censorship, repression and racism within its walls,” they wrote.
In March, Egyptian visual artist Mohamed Abla returned his Goethe Medal, awarded for outstanding artistic achievement by Germany’s Goethe Institute, to protest the German government’s complicity in the Israeli genocide.
Before the Venice Biennale opened in April, more than 24,000 artists from around the world – including former Biennale participants and winners of prestigious prizes – signed an open letter calling on organizers to exclude Israel from the ‘event. An Israeli artist finally decided not to open her exhibition.
In September, Pulitzer Prize-winning author Jhumpa Lahiri refused to accept an award from New York’s Noguchi Museum after it fired three employees for wearing Palestinian kaffiyehs.
Earlier this month, artist Jasleen Kaur, who received the prestigious Turner Prize, used her acceptance speech to condemn the genocide, calling for a free Palestine, an arms embargo and increased solidarity with the Palestinians. She stood in solidarity with all those who demonstrated outside the Tate Britain in London, where the event took place, calling on them to divest from funds and projects linked to the Israeli government.
“I want to echo the calls of the protesters outside. A protest made up of artists, cultural workers, Tate staff and students, with whom I stand firmly,” said Kaur. “This is not a radical demand, it should not endanger the career or safety of an artist.”
Despite these acts of solidarity, the brutal censorship, omission, repression and witch-hunting of art related to Palestine has not abated over the past 12 months.
In January, the Indiana University Art Museum canceled an exhibition by Palestinian artist Samia Halaby.
In May, the town of Vail, Colorado, canceled the artist residency of Danielle SeeWalker, a Native American artist who had compared the plight of Palestinians to that of Native Americans.
In July, the Royal Academy of Arts removed two artworks from its summer exhibition for young artists because they were linked to Israel’s war on Gaza. This happened after the pro-Israel Board of Deputies of British Jews sent him a letter regarding the artwork.
In November, Hamburg’s Altonale festival canceled an exhibition of artwork produced by Gaza children after social media posts attacking it.
These are just a few examples of the massive censorship that Palestinian art and Palestinian artists and creators who have expressed solidarity with Palestine have faced over the past year. The silencing and whitewashing of cultural spaces has also taken place at the institutional level.
In the UK, Arts Council England (ACE) has warned arts institutions that “political statements” could potentially have a negative impact on funding deals. This was revealed during union Equity’s Freedom of Information request, which also showed that ACE and the Department of Media, Culture and Sport (DMCS) even met over the ” reputational risk linked to the Israel-Gaza conflict”.
Some have pointed out the contradiction of the ACE’s actions given that it openly expressed solidarity with Ukraine in 2022 after the Russian invasion. But it is not only the ACE that has demonstrated a policy of double standards in the face of the massacre in Gaza.
Brilliant Palestinian artist Basma Alsharif expressed institutional hypocrisy perfectly in her letter to the Vapid Neoliberal Art World.
She wrote: “I hope this genocide suits you. What exactly are you doing these days? Why did it take you months to write a statement, if you did? Why didn’t you just close it? Why are you not able to boycott Israel like you did with Russia, like you did with South Africa during apartheid? Have you seen the number of declarations? Open letters? The call for a strike? How many hashtags have you all decided it will take to atone for your sins? »
There is no excuse for complacency regarding the genocide in Gaza. The Palestinian people face extermination and our responsibility to them is to ensure that our governments, our institutions and our industry are not left alone until they cut ties with Israel, stop silencing those who denounce his crimes and are committed to the liberation of Palestine.
I urge everyone in the art world – some of whom were so vividly represented at the protest outside the Tate when Kaur was awarded – to remember the words of American author James Baldwin:
“The precise role of the artist is therefore to illuminate this darkness, to trace routes through this vast forest, so that we do not lose sight, in all our actions, of his objective, which is, after all, to create the world. a more humane place to live.
States and their institutions can use the rush for funding and platforms to suppress our expression of solidarity, but ultimately they will not win. Those who concede their personal and professional gains may try to convince themselves that this movement will die out and the issue will be forgotten, but until Palestine is free – and it will be – we keep the receipts, we see absence, we hear the silence about the Israeli genocide in Gaza. It’s not too late to put yourself on the right side of history.
A good year will only be possible when Palestinians and all those facing oppression are free.
The opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial position of Tel Aviv Tribune.
