My Book Thoughts:

Diving into My Father and I Could Have Been Friends: A Palestinian Memoir by Raja Shehadeh reveals a narrative that intricately intertwines the lives of the author and his father, Aziz. This memoir serves not only as a heartfelt homage to paternal bonds but also as an unraveling of the rich tapestry of Palestinian history.

Raja’s evocative storytelling draws poignant parallels between himself and his father, Aziz. The vivid descriptions of Aziz’s life, motivations, and unwavering commitment to the Palestinian cause paint a compelling portrait of an underdog who emerges as a hero. Despite Aziz’s unyielding efforts, his unresolved assassination and the Israeli government’s reluctance to investigate cast a lingering shadow of injustice over the narrative.

The denial of access to the case file, justified under the guise of “privacy and information secrecy,” hints at a more disturbing truth—the possibility that those in power know the killer’s identity, potentially implicating high-ranking officials. This revelation fuels a sense of frustration, echoing the broader theme of oppression faced by Aziz and his human rights activism, particularly post-Nakba.

Raja adeptly navigates the complexities of his father’s life, portraying him not only as a dedicated human rights advocate but also as a mentor and guide in law. The exploration of the stark generational differences between Raja and Aziz, initially perceived as indifference, gradually transforms into a bittersweet connection as Raja delves deeper into his father’s legacy.

The book unfolds the internal struggles within the Shehadeh family, reflecting broader societal shifts in Palestine. Raja’s depiction of his father’s stoic demeanor and unyielding pursuit of justice becomes a lens through which the political landscape and the challenges faced by Palestinians are viewed.

As the narrative progresses, Raja’s commitment to preserving his father’s legacy becomes increasingly apparent. The exploration of Aziz’s notes and unpublished articles provides profound insights into the Nakba and the tragic decisions that led to the illegal occupation of Palestine. The involvement of countries like the United States, Britain, and France, coupled with the betrayal of Arab states, adds a layer of political intrigue and anger that intensifies the gravity of the situation.

The memoir fearlessly exposes the unsettling truth about international complicity in the atrocities committed against the Palestinian people. Learning about the United States supplying weapons to Israeli colonizers and seeking Arab assistance in suppressing Palestinian resistance is a gut-wrenching revelation that elicits disgust and raises questions about the ongoing consequences of such actions.

While recounting Aziz’s life, from his upbringing to his career, the memoir offers glimpses of normalcy amid the turmoil. However, it is not without its criticisms, particularly regarding the depiction of women in Aziz’s life and Raja’s family. Acknowledging these women may not have been directly involved in the legal system, it seems unfair that their opinions and political views are overlooked, highlighting the broader issue of sexism.

Moreover, the tragedy of displacement and the loss of homes, wealth, citizenship, and generational history resonate deeply. The Nakba, a catastrophic event that forcibly uprooted Palestinians, becomes an unthinkable reality, underscoring the harsh consequences of political maneuvering and power struggles.

One of the most powerful aspects of the memoir is the parallel drawn between Raja and Aziz’s commitment to human rights. The title, “We could have been friends, my father and I,” takes on profound meaning as the narrative unfolds. Despite differing perspectives and generations, the shared values and goals emerge as a testament to the enduring legacy of Aziz.

While reflecting on the past, Raja grapples with the political machinations that have marred Palestinian history. Furthermore, the memoir sheds light on the plotting of powerful nations and their role in destabilizing Palestine, perpetuating a cycle of suffering that continues to this day.

Raja wrestles with the hindsight of these events, acknowledging the difficulty of foreseeing such monumental challenges. The Palestinian people, left in the dark, were blindsided by political schemes and land grabs that altered the course of their history.

In conclusion, My Father and I Could Have Been Friends is a compelling exploration of familial bonds, political upheaval, and the enduring quest for justice. Raja Shehadeh’s masterful storytelling not only pays homage to his father but serves as a poignant reminder of the ongoing struggles faced by the Palestinian people. As readers traverse the pages of this memoir, they are confronted with the harsh realities of injustice, political betrayal, and the resilient spirit that persists even in the face of seemingly insurmountable challenges.

About the Author: Raja Shehadeh is the author of A Rift in Time, When the Bulbul Stopped Singing, Strangers in the House, described by the Economist as “distinctive and truly impressive,” and Palestinian Walks, for which he won the 2008 Orwell Prize. Shehadeh trained as a barrister in London and is a founder of the human rights organization Al-Haq. He blogs regularly for the International Herald Tribune/New York Times and lives in Ramallah, on the West Bank.