Standing on the soil where her family once lived in the village of Delhamiyya in Galilee, northern Palestine, Sarah Agha looks around â there is no trace of human life anymore.
Seventy-five years ago, her family and hundreds of others fled the area during the âNakbaâ, Arabic for âcatastropheâ, when 700,000 Palestinians escaped or were expelled from their homes and never returned ânot because they didnât want to,â Sarah says, âbut because they werenât allowed to.â
The scene is from a two-part BBC documentary in which the actor and writer, with co-presenter Rob Rinder, visit the Holy Land to learn about their respective familiesâ histories and examine the impact that the founding of Israel in 1948 had on peopleâs lives and in the region.
The first episode of , which aired last week on BBC Two, strikes a delicate balance between facts and emotions, exploring what happened during this historic period and who, to this day, is still affected by the events of that time.
Arabs are no strangers to war and the need to reflect on its legacy â this week Iraq marks , and Iraqis continue to grapple with the aftermath of an occupation that left devastation in its wake and from which the nation has not recovered. Yet crucially, this BBC documentary tackles a deeply contentious topic from a neutral standpoint.
While it seems questionable for a show about a region engulfed in geographic, racial and religious divisions to sidestep the political tensions between Israel and Palestine, its attempts at impartiality serve a purpose: this is not a series about occupation; instead it addresses the impact of the Zionist movement to found modern-day Israel through family stories and aims to uncover what happened to certain individuals as the Middle East was being radically reshaped.
The âboth sidesâ narrative follows Sarah, Rob and four British families â two of Jewish and two of Palestinian heritage â as they unravel key moments in their ancestorsâ lives connected to 1948.
Speaking to The New A, Sarah â who is half-Palestinian, half-Irish admits she was initially hesitant about taking on this project from a two-sided approach because of the portrayal, or lack thereof, of Palestinians and their adversity in mainstream media. âI was worried that people might assume itâs a normalisation project and maybe not give it a chance,â she says, adding that Palestinians have previously âbeen so disappointed by big western platformsâ for silencing or misrepresenting their perspectives. âThere is a lack of trust and wariness that I had to put aside.â
Yet the legacy stories told in The Holy Land and Us offer Palestinians more than a platform, they âvalidate our voicesâ, says Sarah. âSometimes our very existence and our place in the region is denied⊠but because this is about family lineage, [people] canât deny that we were there. Itâs much harder to deny tangible evidence, particularly if itâs presented on a western platform.â
Attempts to eradicate Palestine from the global narrative persist â just this week sparked outrage after claiming that âthere is no such thing as a Palestinian people,â weeks after calling for a Palestinian town to be âerasedâ.
For Arab audiences, the documentary may serve as a rare corrective to the imbalanced representation and exclusion of Palestinian voices from the conversation. Despite many âsleepless nightsâ, Sarah says she has âbeen relieved and really bolstered that [the show] has resonated with and meant so much to Palestinians that have reached out to me,â she says of the public reaction.
For the ânon-initiatedâ, as she puts it, itâs a chance to learn about a nation whose identity has either been politicised or omitted altogether. âI kept reminding myself how important this project is because weâre trying to get to the people who know nothing [about Palestine]. Itâs invisible to so many people, they donât have a clue about our stories.â
In both episodes, Britons of Palestinian descent have the chance to tell theirs and express the emotional effects of uncovering their forbearsâ history, using terms that have previously been too controversial to utter in western media coverage. âNakbaâ, for example, is a taboo term, one that explicitly highlights the devastation of 1948 on Palestinians, from which they continue to suffer; that itâs mentioned from the start of the show is a small victory for Sarah and many people of the region, a recognition of struggle and a step towards the truth.
During the first episode, a woman named Shireen learns while speaking to a historian that 22 members of her family were killed during an attack by two Zionist militia groups on , a village on the outskirts of Jerusalem, where her grandmother was from. While she weeps, he tells her that âwhat happened was not a clash, it was not a war, it was a massacre.â
To Palestinians, this is a statement of fact, but from a western lens, the word is provocative. Its use in the show is a âbig stepâ in pivoting the narrative on Palestine to one that acknowledges the peopleâs plight, then and now. Sarah adds: âLanguage is important. It feels monumental to have words like these used on a big mainstream platform.â Presented on a western stage, to British audiences these events will be validated as fact, she argues, while showcasing âthe Palestinian strength, resilience and steadfastnessâ.
By revisiting the Holy Land and the events of 1948, Sarah and other British Palestinians in the series are not merely retelling a historical account; they are sharing Palestineâs reality.
Its past and present sit under the shadow of 1948 because âthere has been no resolutionâ both for displaced people and those under occupation, she says.
The Nakba continues in different guises, the conflict is âabsolutely ongoingâ. âFor me everything comes back to 1948. Itâs not just a moment in history, itâs our ongoing story.â
The Holy Land and Us aired on BBC Two and both episodes are available on BBC iPlayer
Dalia Dawood is a British-Iraqi freelance journalist and editor based in London and a lecturer of journalism and publishing at the London College of Communication.
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