The “Wall” in Kufr Thulth, 2006
Palestinian-born Rehab Nazzal is exhibiting some profound, panoramic imagery at Gallery 101 until April 3 (301 Bank Street)—imagery that depicts, through broad-yet-restrictive views, the harrowing and divided experience of homeland occupation.
g-Gallery spoke with the artist about the personal and universal themes at work in her exhibition called Divide.
g-Gallery: The "divide" analogy is central to the work and to the modern Palestinian experience. Besides dividing Israel from Palestine, to what extent has the Israeli occupation divided Palestinians from each other and from their own culture and identity?
Rehab Nazzal: The Israeli Occupation has divided and continues to divide the Palestinians from one another since the Nakba. There are over six million refugees, most of them still living within refugee camps in the Arab countries, waiting to return to the homes and land from which they were expelled in 1947/1948. A million and a half Palestinians are in Gaza, imprisoned between walls in all directions, separated entirely from the West Bank. In the West Bank, Palestinians are suffering the consequences of land annexation for the purpose of building more illegal settlements, reserved for Jews only, and more recently, as a result of the segregation wall which has resulted in more and more divisions of the Palestinian community.
The segregation wall that Israel began constructing in 2002 is longer and higher than the Berlin Wall, standing at 7 to 9 meters high and over 700 kilometres long. It is described by Noam Chomsky as the “Annexation Wall.” The wall cuts deep inside the occupied territories, annexing over 50% of the fertile land, imprisoning tens of thousands between the wall and green line and dividing tens of thousands from their schools, fields, water resources and jobs.
The photographs in the exhibition almost entirely obscure or hide human faces. Subjects are shown from behind or in military masks. Was this purposeful on your part? I’m referring especially to The “Wall” in Kufr Thulth and The Weekly Protest Against the Wall, Ni’lin.
These two images speak strongly of the power relation under military occupation, not just the Israeli occupation but also any military occupation.
The juxtaposition of The “Wall” in Kufr Thulth and The Weekly Protest Against the Wall, Ni’lin in the gallery resonates with a hidden image in my memory from childhood. In the early years of occupation, the army would frequently enter my hometown, impose a curfew, and order through the loud speakers that all men over fifteen years old were to gather in the yard of the largest high school. The men would be told to face a wall for long hours; we did not know what they did to the men, and when my father and brothers would return they would avoid looking and speaking to us. You could feel that they had been humiliated and touted.
In The Weekly Protest Against the Wall, Ni’lin, I was standing in the back row with the unarmed civilians who are protesting the land confiscation in the village of Ni’lin. The soldiers who are enforcing the theft of land are masked to protect themselves from the tear gas that they themselves fire at the protesters, and carry shields to protect them from the stones the protesters throw at them as they are forced out of their land.
In the village of Ni’lin and Bil’in, as well as in many other Palestinian villages, activists from around the world, Israeli activists, and Palestinian villagers gather every Friday to protest land annexation in the West Bank. These protests have been ongoing since Israel began building the segregation wall.
The Weekly Protest Against the Wall, Ni’lin, 2008
As a student and artist, you have roamed fairly freely around the globe, yet in your home country freedom of movement is very restricted. Is this sense of restriction something that follows you wherever you are in the world?
Although I have traveled and lived in several countries, I have never felt free because my country is occupied. My childhood experience left scars on me for the rest of my life and the suffering and loss that my family and all Palestinians are enduring live within me.
What unites people around the world is a universal declaration of human rights. Israel with its occupation, over four decades long, and continuing destruction and annexation of Palestinian land, violates the basic human rights of the Palestinian people, including their freedom of movement.
Losing the freedom to move freely within your own space is devastating. My previous exhibition Walking Under Occupation dealt with this concept.
There are over five hundred checkpoints in the West Bank. Not just the movement of Palestinians is restricted, but the occupier controls time; people cannot plan their days. The soldiers at the checkpoints have the absolute power over the daily life of Palestinians.
Since the construction of the segregation wall, the movement of Palestinians has become even more restricted. The wall separates communities from each other. For example, in the past you needed fifteen minutes to reach Jerusalem from Bethlehem. Now you need a permit from the occupation authorities, which you may or may not get, then you have to go through a checkpoint/gate in the wall, which can take several hours.
Did you ever feel that you were at physical risk when taking these photographs?
I faced physical risk many times, including tear gas and live ammunition attacks, I was held at checkpoints, my images deleted, my photography equipment was always a target for confiscation. However, my experience is nothing in comparison to what Palestinians are experiencing daily under the Israeli occupation.
Have you encountered any negative reactions to the showing of such politically sensitive work
Absolutely not. My work is about my experience and that is what art is about, human experience. There were many questions asked at the opening, which is good. Art should engage people in dialogue and debates, as well as enlighten and educate.
Bethlehem 2009
Israeli Soldier Enforces Land Confiscation, Kufr Thulth, 2006
