Book Review: Flying Home

Flying Home is a touching new children's story produced by youth from
Lajee Cultural Center in Aida refugee camp in Bethlehem, in
collaboration with Rich Wiles, a British artist.
Thirty pages in length and illustrated
with fifteen full-page photographs taken by the children
themselves, Flying Home is a complete package. It is exceptionally
well produced, an educational tool for young readers of both
English and Arabic, and combines a powerful, human message that is
neither culturally specific nor heavy-handed in its
delivery.
Though the story of the book’s
production might invite cynicism or paternalism, a fair reading
immediately rejects any tendency to belittle the final result. On
the contrary, Flying Home stands on its own as one of the best
children’s books to come out of Palestine in a long time, while
highlighting some of the best universal and emancipatory aspects of
the human condition and the Palestinian revolution
overall.
Flying Home tells the story of a child from Aida camp, whose youthful
curiosity leads him to have a series of discussions with his wise
grandfather. The child’s questions emerge from the boy’s growing
awareness of his surroundings marked by the densely populated,
concrete labyrinth of a 60-year old refugee camp, caged in by
Israel’s eight meter high Wall and its accompanying sniper towers.
Though the child’s questions are hardly political in nature, the
pair’s very existence in the refugee camp inevitably is. This puts
the grandfather in the complicated situation of needing to explain
aspects of the Palestinian reality in exile when the child himself
cannot understand the full aspects of his family’s history and the
Palestinian predicament in general. But rather than fall in the
trap of providing trite, clichéd answers, the grandfather
repeatedly responds by emphasizing simple yet important guiding
principles of humanity and dignity, including patience,
determination, the importance of freedom, and the need to preserve
one's dreams and rights.
At one point the grandfather decides to
teach the child how to build a kite from a flag, as a means to
illustrate how it can be made to fly. The pair build the kite
together with the child soon releasing it into the sky next to the
apartheid Wall. The child’s initial elation at the sight of his
creation soaring high is short lived however, as a large gust of
wind whisks the kite from his hands, eventually causing it to crash
on the other side of the Wall beyond the child’s reach. The boy
returns to his grandfather in tears, devastated by his loss of
possession of their creation.
In a final, consoling and moving
response, the grandfather responds:
You have given the kite and the flag, its freedom, and freedom is the most valuable thing in the whole world. We cannot see the kite right now but that does not mean it no longer exists. The kite has flown past the Wall to our homeland, for this is where it truly belongs….Tonight we will both dream happy dreams as we have worked together and helped the kite achieve its freedom. One day you will see the kite again, for it will wait for you in our homeland until you can fly it once more, when we also find our freedom…
Flying Home’s simple language, layout, and storyline are nonetheless
remarkably profound and sophisticated. Its secret lies in its
identification and portrayal of hidden tensions that lie beneath
the surface of Palestinian existence, and extend to humanity in
general: the tension between youthful ignorance and adult
consciousness; between a people (in this case Palestinians, and
particularly refugees) and the places they come from (the homeland
to which they are prevented from returning); between one's hopeful
dreams and an ever-present, caged-in reality; and the tension
between seeking to possess something materially, and the knowledge
that real possession is ephemeral, and in fact, that it is us who
are possessed by our idea, history, nature, and cause. These
tensions are magnificently symbolized in the analogy and image of
the boy’s hand holding the spool of string that controls the kite,
and the uncontrollable forces of the wind that make it
fly.
The grandfather’s final response is
profoundly orienting, emphasizing the need to set and uphold one’s
values and principles before all other seemingly more immediate
considerations. It is these principles that define us as
Palestinians, refugees, and human beings. Moreover, these can never
be taken away from us without our consent, and can achieve
realization through patient work, and not abandoning one's dreams
and rights. Palestinian refugees' aspirations for return to their
original villages are the obvious reference of the book’s message,
but it is also not limited to this. The story’s emphasis on freedom
being the most valuable thing in the world underlines how, though
freedom is a physical state of being, it is also a state of mind.
While Palestinians are denied its manifestation in the former, they
can never be denied its existence in the latter, as long as they
remain aware of this truth and exercise it in
practice.
The story shows exactly how this can be
done, by structuring itself through the grandfather-grandchild
relationship, which also contributes to the story’s power, effect
and universality. This kinship bond through which the transference
of wisdom and identity takes place, plays a crucial role in the
preservation and development of Palestinian refugees' rights and
struggle through living beings, and not just legal
conventions. Flying
Home’s exceptionalism is that this
transference is not of static or ossified knowledge, but that of
common values of dignity, freedom and justice. Its message beckons
Ghassan Kanafani’s words in Return
to Haifa, where the main character
declares that “man is a cause,” and that one’s humanity and its
realization must be the force at the base of the Palestinian
struggle. It not only distinguishes oneself from one’s oppressor,
but also provides the tools for victory and
liberation.
Seeing the continuity of this
liberationist stream within the writings and photographs of the
children of Lajee center is a beautiful testament of how these
ideas remain alive within the Palestinian body politic, despite the
overwhelming and seemingly never ending oppression it undergoes at
Israel’s hands, and the discouragement these ideas face within the
national movement from those who have abandoned or ignored
them.