âFreedom of expression has since its inception been integral to settler colonialism.â â Darcy Leigh
Israelâs colonial forces recently offices of prominent Palestinian human rights organisations in the midst of night. Not only were the offices shut down and workers expelled, they sealed doors and they were âterroristâ bases.
Of course, this went unnoticed by the Western media, which was still entrenched by the on Salman Rushdie the week prior. From war criminals including Israeli prime minister and , to and the largest Marxist publications, we were told it was time for all to be defending Rushdie, a âmartyrâ of free speech.
Rushdie first came to prominence after the release of his second novel, Midnightâs Children, which was considered one of the 21st centuryâs most celebrated literary works. He was a voice of dissent; from his for the Palestinian cause to his anti-racism , which he noted needing to be purified from the âfilth of imperialismâ.
Certainly not considered a hero of free expression then, he was constantly in the media and dismissed as a radical. It was only when his political persuasion shifted, countering previous support for struggles against colonialism and racism, that he rose to such a title.
After being subject to the 1989 issued by Iranâs Ruhollah Khomeini following the release of his book The Satanic Verses, which was dismissed as an anti-Islam polemic, Rushdie was forced into years of hiding.
Rushdie would emerge as the Westâs latest intellectual in propagating orientalist, colonial fantasies. He would go on to US imperial interventions in Iraq and Afghanistan. In his infamous post-9/11 New York Times , âYes, Itâs About Islamâ, he wrote that the âworld of Islamâ could only attain âfreedomâ through adoption of âsecularist-humanist principles of which the modern is basedâ. The âOrientals,â we were told by Rushdie, could not be liberated by their own will but rather needed to be liberated.
Rushdie became a , though his dalliances were not limited to Hollywood stars but also war criminals such as Shimon Peres and Tony Blair, who were responsible for the murder of thousands.
Today, Rushdie continues to repeat one of the oldest orientalist mantras, reducing violent settler colonialism in Palestine to an âold quarrelâ between Jews and Arabs.
It begs the questionâespecially by those Iraqis, Afghans, Palestinians, Yugoslavs, Lebanese, Arabs and Muslims who he supported invasions and occupations againstâ to what cause, exactly, is Rushdie a martyr to?
On the colonised, the Fanonian maxim goes, âWe revolt, simply because we want to breathe.â
The four-fifths of humanity which Fanon writes as living under the yoke of imperialism, their concept of âfreedom of expressionâ is about a struggle that cannot be divorced from its relation to landâa completely unrecognised phenomenon in the .
Whilst Rushdie may have , those around the world fighting for a world in which they are allowed to breathe, such as Shireen Abu Akleh, the Palestinian American journalist who was by Israeli colonial forces, did not receive similar eulogisations as a martyr of free speech.
The entire world has seen the scenes of torture in Abu Ghraibâwhere Iraqis were hurled around on leashes during the invasion Rushdie championed. Yet, we are by the so-called Western âleftâ that âpeople have an understandable will to celebrate Rushdieâ. How easily we see principles of anti-racism, anti-war, and the lives of the colonised are cast aside whenever the liberal lamentation of free speech is on the table.
In 1994, Edward Said hastily lionised Rushdie as ââ. Today, we also see progressive voices disingenuously revive and reapply that title to Rushdie âa token orientalist celebrity, Zionist and right-wing zealotâideologies of which Said dedicated his life fighting against, and which he was not around to witness the full fruition of in his former friend.
Intifada, a sacred word in the Arabic language, cannot be divorced from its relation to the colonial condition; denoting a complete rejection of colonial subservience and an embrace of revolution.
Rather, it is Shireen Abu Akleh who is todayâs âintifada of the imaginationâ. Even in death, Shireen Abu Akleh was degraded, when Israeli bullets during her funeral, and the cause of her death, to this day, is pathetically contested.
This is echoed in the words of revolutionary Palestinian poet and writer Mohamed El-Kurd, who âWhat is a fact in Arabic, is debatable in Englishâ.
The same can be applied to the Rushdie situation today, where, rather than taking a view from the lived experiences of the colonised, the progressive joins the ranks of their supposed enemy in praising a man who was complicit in justifying the murder of millions. Whilst the progressive sees it appropriate to debate whether Rushdieâs past should be celebrated, the colonised already banished him to the dustbin of history long ago.
On this phenomenon, Fanon continues that the European peoples âmust wake up and shake themselves and stop playing the stupid game of the Sleeping Beautyââthat those in the imperial core, especially the progressive, must first realise and reject such , if we are to reach a more liberated world.
Shireen Abu Akleh noted âperhaps it is not easy to change reality, but at least I was able to convey its voice to the worldâ. The contrast is clear: the colonised and are murdered for attempting to merely convey reality, whilst the West labels the epitome of freedom in being able to vilify, in the most befouling of ways, the religion of more that one billion adherents within the domain of âliteratureâ, whilst also directly appeasing colonial, orientalist representations of Muslims and Arabs.
We must recognise the hypocrisy of media proliferation where colonial questions are concerned, and deeply examine for what cause is true âfreedom of expressionâ.
Today, it is Shireen Abu Akleh who is the intifada of the imagination. It is the Palestinian civil rights groups; it is , a Palestinian child detained by Israelâs colonial system since the age of fourteen; it is , who resisted detention with one of the longest hunger strikes in history. It is , the Saudi student and mother, who was sentenced to thirty-four years in prison merely for showing support of womenâs rights. It is the Black and African imprisoned in colonial jails for fighting for liberation.
It is they, as Fanon , in their struggles to breathe, who will set afoot a new human being.
Rida Jawad is an Iraqi writer. His research interests focus on examining political economy and role of imperialism in the Arab region, as well as exploring anti-colonial resistance movements in the wider regions of Asia and Africa, be that through art, literature, film, law, or militancy.
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