Oh rascal children of Gaza,
You who constantly disturbed me with your screams under my window,
You who filled every morning with rush and chaos,
You who broke my vase and stole the lonely flower on my balcony,
Come back –
And scream as you want,
And break all the vases,
Steal all the flowers,
Come back,
Just come back…
Hello and welcome to Words That Burn, the podcast taking a closer look at poetry. At this stage in 2024, August at the time of recording, it’s hard to believe that poems like Oh Rascal Children of Gaza by Khaled Juma, are still so vital and accurate at portraying the genocide playing out in Palestine.
It could have been written yesterday, and yet it was actually created over 10 years ago (“Oh Rascal Children Of Gaza: – a Poem,” n.d.). Khaled Juma’s haunting words on the eerie silence left behind by children who are no longer there were written in response to the Israeli state’s military bombardment of Gaza, an event that would become known as Operation Protective Edge (The United Nations Independent Commission of Inquiry on the 2014 Gaza Conflict,” n.d.).
In 2014, 3 Israeli Teenagers went missing, assumed to have been kidnapped. The terrorist organisation Hamas would later claim responsibility for the action.(Khoury 2014) In response to the action taken by Hamas, the Israeli State and military responded in full force, with large-scale violence being the primary reaction.
he aftermath of that reaction was described by Amnesty International as follows:
It began just after four o’clock on a sunny Wednesday afternoon. Four young boys, all cousins from the same family, were playing football on a Gaza beach.
The shelling rained down, killing all four children.
The Israeli military offensive ‘Operation Protective Edge’ launched on 8 July 2014, killing and injuring scores of civilians.
This deadly seven-week battle wreaked further havoc, punishment and devastation on Gaza's already blockaded population, with Gaza’s children caught in the crossfire.(Amnesty International UK 2015)
Between July 8 and August 26, 2014, the Israeli military killed 2,251 Palestinians during its assault on Gaza, known as “Operation Protective Edge,” including 1,462 civilians. Among those killed, 551 children and 299 women. (Zonszein 2015)
At the time this was recognised as the largest death toll as a result of Israeli Military actions since the 1967 Nakba. To quote one source:
Israel’s activities in the Gaza Strip, West Bank and East Jerusalem resulted in the deaths of 2,314 Palestinians and 17,125 injuries, compared with 39 deaths and 3,964 injuries in 2013, according to the annual report (pdf) by the UN Office for the Co-ordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA).(Zonszein 2015)
It was also noted that this particular assault on the Palestinian people focused particularly on violence against children.(Operation Protective Edge: A War Waged on Gaza’s Children 2015))
Kaled Juma wrote this poem in direct response to that violence against children.
It may feel as though burying you with figures on this particular episode and that is not something you would normally hear on Words That Burn. I’m doing so with a purpose though as the figures quoted already, though horrific to the point of disbelief 10 years ago, pale in comparison to the latest figures from Gaza.
At the time of recording August 2024, the fatalities and casualties for Palestinians stands at:
Killed: at least 39,699 people, including more than:
More than 15,000 children killed
Injured: more than 91,722 people
Missing: more than 10,000 (AJLabs 2023)
I’ve made this appeal a few times on the podcast now, as a fair few poems by Palestinian poets have been covered on the podcast, but if you have any disposable income or spare money at the moment, please consider donating it to the Ireland Palestine Solidarity Campaign; an Irish-based organisation that is working tirelessly to provide aid and assistance to both those fleeing and trapped in Rafah. The donation link is below in the description and every little bit can go some way to helping.
Poetry, especially Palestinian poetry, has always been a way to give form to feeling. To find that one perfect sequence of language that encapsulates what another is feeling, then strike that chord in another.
As with much Palestinian Poetry, in a nation so utterly dispossessed of its roots and history, combined with an active attempt to eradicate their culture by the Israeli State, poetry has always been a form of vocal resistance.(Reigeluth 2005)
The style of Palestinian poetry differs greatly from the Western canon in that it has evolved to become very communal and also incredibly direct. It has a great sense of urgency arising from the political circumstances of its evolution and it’s deep entanglement with the personal.(Di Cintio 2018). To be Palestinian is to be political; they have not had the luxury of being able to ignore politics for 57 years.(“Israel’s Occupation: 50 Years of Dispossession” 2017).
That sense of urgency is on full display in this poem, For the purpose of analysis, I’ve split the poem into two parts. Though its worth noting, as with much of Palestinian poetry, the focus of the language used is on emotion and appeal as opposed to intricacy of language or clever literary devices. In terms of this poem, Khaled Juma has split his poem into two informal parts; the before and the after. The before is the tale of grumpy old man:
Oh rascal children of Gaza,
You who constantly disturbed me with your screams under my window,
You who filled every morning with rush and chaos,
You who broke my vase and stole the lonely flower on my balcony,
Juma wastes no time in creating an idyllic, every-day scene. One that’s filled with the innocent chaos that happy children leave in their wake. This is emphasised by the word rascal , a term that now feels outdated but was once perfectly common when used to describe a child who was a bit of a mischief maker. Though has a much deeper origin from French, referring to those who are members of the masses of the rabble(Shoppe, n.d.). Regardless of it’s true origin, all the language Juma is employing is a testament to innocence. He is building the case that, should anything awful happen here, it could never be justified.
The next three lines of the first verse kick off a refrain, where he describes the actions of those same children. Actions, that once, would have driven him to anger.
The refrain he builds, each line beginning with you who, accomplishes two things. Firstly, it acts as foreshadowing, a hint of things to come (Gottlieb, n.d.), for the horrific that will come later in the poem.
Words like screams, rush, chaos, broke and stole are very context dependent here. They are, on their own, generally considered to be words with a negative connotation, but here in the context of children playing, they should be harmless enough. Despite that, the refrain, makes us an audience a little uncomfortable, possibly because many of us reading or listening to this poem are already aware of the historical and contemporary context of what is occurring in Palestine
The second thing the refrain achieves is that it centres the poem at the heart of Palestinian resistance poetry. As I’ve previously mentioned in the episode, Palestinian poetry has become synonymous with politics, particularly the politics of identity and resistance. The reasons for this are clear; the Palestinian people are currently faced with an enemy that wants nothing more than to eradicate them and their culture from the face of the earth. This has led to fierce resistance not only physically and mentally but culturally as well. As a result of this, much of Palestinian art, especially contemporary Palestinain art, has refocused to assert both identity and resistance.
As academic Hanan Mikhail Ashrawi wrote:
Living under the occupation of a regime which is socially, culturally, and politically alien and hostile to the native population has created a defence mechanism reaction among the Palestinians, who insist on preserving their identity at all costs. (Ashrawi, 1978.)
This is not dissimilar to the way in which Irish language art or Art as Gaeilge was forced to undergo a similar reframing to preserve identity.(Ionnrachtaigh 2013)
The refrain used here and in countless other Palestinian resistance poems, some of which are linked below in the description, acts as an insistence, a declaration of permeance, and something that a community could easily take up the call for.(Ashrawi, 1978)
This repetition has occasionally been criticised as something that has stripped Palestinian verse of its intricacy and complexity (Ashrawi, 1978.), however, I would argue that it is very much a case of form following function and, as such, is vital in Palestinian poetry. Aside from such critiques wholly missing the point, they are also largely unfounded as modern Palestinian poets like Najwan Darwish, who create beautiful layered works of verse that still stand as full acts of resistance.
This first section by Khaled Juma, the before, is a scene teeming with life. There is a lot of noise and action everywhere. This Palestine is filled with people living their lives. It’s hustle and bustle makes the eerie silence of the next section; the after, all the more devastating:
Come back –
And scream as you want,
And break all the vases,
Steal all the flowers,
Come back,
Just come back…
The poet appeals to the now missing children, beseeching them to come back, the horrific silence has made him reconsider his previous impatience. He bargains with them futilely, telling them that they can scream as much as they like, break whatever they want, and steal as many flowers as they want. Unfortunately, it’s too late and all for nothing. Those final words just come back, really underscore the sense of desperation our poet is feeling. It must be a desperation that countless Palestinians feel as they are forced to undergo the inconceivable pain of losing a child. Khaled Juma has created a brief but devastating lament for Palestine’s children. The final ellipses, those three dots at the end, ensure that we, the reader, understand that his plea is left hanging there, impotent, like an echo in the ruins of a massacre.
Khaled Juma's "Oh Rascal Children of Gaza" stands as a heart-wrenching testament to the devastating loss of innocent lives amidst the conflict in Palestine. The poem captures the stark contrast between the once vibrant, chaotic life of Gaza's children and the unbearable silence left in their absence. Through simple yet poignant language, Juma conveys a universal grief, making an impassioned plea for the return of what has been irreparably lost.
As stated in the beginning of the episode, this poem was written in reaction to a horrific event know as Operation Protective Edge. This happened 10 years ago, and yet the poem is, tragically, as relevant as it has ever been. This work not only serves as a powerful expression of personal sorrow but also as a broader lament for a nation perpetually scarred by violence. It compels the reader to confront the human cost of this ongoing tragedy, leaving an indelible mark that echoes long after the final words are read.
It compels the reader to confront the human cost of the ongoing tragedy. These are not statistics, these are not figures on a spreadsheet, but rather what once were living, breathing children.
As I’ve already stated, the atrocities being committed against the Palestinian are only increasing, with no sign of stopping in sight. The survivors of the latest wave of anti-Palestine military action undertaken by the IDF are now facing starvation and are now in the midst of famine. I’ve placed a link in the description to donate to the Ireland Palestine Solidarity Campaign, a group working tirelessly to raise money for Palestinian relief. Please consider donating whatever you can.
What did you think of the poem? As always, this is my interpretation, and I’d love to hear yours. If you’d like to get in touch with me, there are a few ways to do so:
Citations:
AJLabs. 2023. “Israel-Gaza War in Maps and Charts: Live Tracker.” Al Jazeera. October 9, 2023. https://www.aljazeera.com/news/longform/2023/10/9/israel-hamas-war-in-maps-and-charts-live-tracker.
Amnesty International UK. 2015. “Gaza: Operation Protective Edge.” Amnesty International UK. January 13, 2015. https://www.amnesty.org.uk/gaza-operation-protective-edge.
Ashrawi, H. M. n.d. “The Contemporary Palestinian Poetry of Occupation.” Paperpile. Accessed August 13, 2024. https://paperpile.com/app/p/51f4be88-1602-0e65-90d4-a6c3b35ccb23.
Di Cintio, Marcello. 2018. “In Palestinian Poetry, the Long Transition from Political to Personal.” Literary Hub. September 7, 2018. https://lithub.com/in-palestinian-poetry-the-long-transition-from-political-to-personal/.
Gottlieb, E. n.d. “What Is Foreshadowing?” Paperpile. Accessed August 13, 2024. https://paperpile.com/app/p/33ae3f13-1397-0350-94e8-bb4001572443.
Ionnrachtaigh, Feargal Mac. 2013. Language, Resistance and Revival: Republican Prisoners and the Irish Language in the North of Ireland. Pluto Press.
“Israel’s Occupation: 50 Years of Dispossession.” 2017. Amnesty International. June 7, 2017. https://www.amnesty.org/en/latest/campaigns/2017/06/israel-occupation-50-years-of-dispossession/.
Khoury, Jack. 2014. “Hamas Claims Responsibility for Three Israeli Teens’ Kidnapping and Murder.” Haaretz. August 21, 2014. https://www.haaretz.com/2014-08-21/ty-article/hamas-admits-kidnap-murder-of-3-teens/0000017f-e6ef-df5f-a17f-ffff07e30000.
“Oh Rascal Children Of Gaza – a Poem.” n.d. Jewish Voice for Labour. Accessed August 7, 2024. https://www.jewishvoiceforlabour.org.uk/article/oh-rascal-children-of-gaza-a-poem/.
Operation Protective Edge: A War Waged on Gaza’s Children. 2015. Defense for Children International, Palestine Section.
Reigeluth, Stuart. 2005. Memory and Resistance: A Literary Perspective of Palestinian Existence. American University of Beirut, Center for Arab and Middle Eastern Studies.
Shoppe, Ye Olde Swag. n.d. “Rascal.” Accessed August 13, 2024. https://www.etymonline.com/word/rascal.
“The United Nations Independent Commission of Inquiry on the 2014 Gaza Conflict.” n.d. OHCHR. Accessed August 7, 2024. https://www.ohchr.org/en/hr-bodies/hrc/co-i-gaza-conflict/report-co-i-gaza.
Zonszein, Mairav. 2015. “Israel Killed More Palestinians in 2014 than in Any Other Year since 1967.” The Guardian, March 27, 2015. https://www.theguardian.com/world/2015/mar/27/israel-kills-more-palestinians-2014-than-any-other-year-since-1967.
This was an incredibly depressing but much needed read. Thank you for spreading awareness of this poem.