The Politics of Dabkeh

In Palestine, culture and politics are inseparable.  Al-Quds, that is Jerusalem in English and Yerushalaim in Hebrew, is the Arab capital of culture in 2009.  This award has led to extravaganzas of Dabkeh, ‘Oud’ (a middle eastern guitar) and ‘Qanun’(a middle eastern harp).  It has propagated the arts industry and it has made people proud.  It has also led to closures and protests.  The opening ceremony moved to Bethlehem in the occupied West Bank and proceeded regardless, demonstrating one clear aspect of Palestinian culture: persistence.

My first event in Jerusalem was to be a show of traditional singing and dancing in the Palestinian National Theatre in East Jerusalem.  We arrived 30 minutes late after being held up in queues at a checkpoint to pass from Ramallah into Jerusalem.  Walking towards the theatre, we thought we had the wrong place.  It looked dead.  At the door, we saw a sign.  The occupation forces for security reasons had shut down the event.  Later we learned that the spectators and performers, young people who had rehearsed for months had formed a spontaneous protest at this sign and had marched to a nearby youth centre.  On the way, police stopped and dispersed them.  The group of young people, local and foreign spectators who simply wanted to enjoy singing and dancing left and went home.

Today, as I write waiting to watch a Japanese film in a brand new theatre in An-Najah University in Nablus, a traditional music group is warming up on an outdoor stage. Palestinians have still continued the celebration of Al-Quds, Arab Capital of Culture, even though the majority of people cannot visit the capital.  The display was in full flow as I left the film.  The lights of Nablus are their backdrop, the dancers stamp and an instant later the crack of their feet reaches me, echoing around the outdoor theatre.  Then back to the coordinated and ebullient Dabkeh, Palestine’s answer to River Dance or American line-dancing.  This display is takes place at every wedding or major event and represents the unconstrained spirit of the people here.

It also reminds me of one of my favourite moments from the 9 months I’ve lived here. I was sitting with a group of good friends in the Ramallah Cultural Palace, flowing with the crowd enthralled by a young skilful Dabkeh group.  There were about 20 people, none of them stopped smiling, expressing a pure love for the dance they were performing.  Their energy was radiant and the audience could feel it too.

Moments like these recur over and over again.  Politics is still ever present but culture and the human spirit persist.

Article sent to GAC by Harry Roberts*.

*His name has been changed to protect his identity.