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The Wire
30-05-2025
- Entertainment
- The Wire
The Art of Grief, Violence, Death and a Genocide
Menu हिंदी తెలుగు اردو Home Politics Economy World Security Law Science Society Culture Editor's Pick Opinion Support independent journalism. Donate Now Top Stories The Art of Grief, Violence, Death and a Genocide Pariplab Chakraborty 14 minutes ago Curated by Amit Mukhopadhyay and organised by SAHMAT, 'The Body Called Palestine' is an ongoing exhibition at Jawahar Bhawan, New Delhi. It features digital prints of Palestinian artists' works along with works from artists worldwide in solidarity with the Palestinian people. Sliman Mansour's work at the exhibition 'The Body Called Palestine'. Photo: Pariplab Chakraborty. Real journalism holds power accountable Since 2015, The Wire has done just that. But we can continue only with your support. Contribute now 'Here, where the hills slope before the sunset and the chasm of time near gardens whose shades have been cast aside we do what prisoners do we do what the jobless do we sow hope…' – Mahmoud Darwish, A State of Siege, 2002 Palestinian art, by existing, challenges the very foundation of Israeli-settler colonialism. Every occupation tries to destroy the idea of the people they occupy and in order to accomplish that, it inflicts violence on the occupied bodies. It tries to obliterate memories, truths and traces of genocidal violence. But can it omit the idea of the people resisting the occupation and defending their own land? Curated by Amit Mukhopadhyay and organised by SAHMAT, 'The Body Called Palestine' is an ongoing exhibition at Jawahar Bhawan, New Delhi. It features digital prints of Palestinian artists' works along with works from artists worldwide in solidarity with the Palestinian people. Primarily, the exhibition seeks to remember. It is an attempt to challenge our 'monocular vision' of seeing and to engage with a new artistic language that stems from Palestinian artists across fields who are living under and resisting a genocidal regime. 'The Body Called Palestine' showcases works of Palestinian artists and their expressions of living under a never ending system of occupation, ethnic cleansing, everyday violence and utter dehumanisation. It witnesses alienation, loss, grief, and anger. Malak Mattar, a young Palestinian artist, grew up in the Gaza strip witnessing occupation and military siege. She had created a series of monochrome and grayscale drawings and paintings – documenting the genocide in her homeland – during a residency programme. She later combined all of those images into this monumental grayscale painting titled 'No Words… (For Gaza)'. This work explicitly tells the horrors and devastation of occupation and a vicious cycle of displacement and ethnic cleansing of the people of Palestine. While working on this painting she said 'It needs to be completely horrific,' 'otherwise it will not accurately reflect the genocide.' Malak Mattar's 'No Words…(For Gaza)'. Photo: Pariplab Chakraborty. Malak Mattar's art. Photo: Pariplab Chakraborty. Maisara Baroud is a Palestinian artist from Gaza city. As a witness, his works evoke a sense of the unfathomable and the familiar, both. It is like a never-ending blur between the blacks and whites, like a nauseating fever – akin to the experience of a relentless cycle of atrocities. 'He consistently highlights topics such as war, immigration, political prisoners, illegal arrests, and occupation. Baroud's works reflect dramatic and tragic scenes, dominated by grief, death, violence, peace, hope, and freedom. His art mirrors how life is intertwined with a fresh, continuous scent of death that never seems to fade.' the artist's statement reads. Maisara Baroud's 'The Artistic Diary of Maisara Baroud'. Photo: Pariplab Chakraborty. The artworks show resilient acts of recording, embedded in personal and political experiences, ensuring that the grand sweep of historical injustice and the records of deafening silence from those in power are not erased. Digital prints of noted Palestinian artist and art historian Vera Tamari's works are also on display in the exhibition. Vera was only three years old during the first Nakba in 1948. She grew up seeing a perpetual state of occupation, war and violence inflicted upon the Palestinian lives. Her vast body of ceramic, sculpture and installation works intensively talk about seeing the Palestinian reality up front and with its innumerable layers of memories, the undaunting resilience Palestinian identity and its cultural heritage. Vera Tamari's 'Palestinian Women at Work' (ceramic relief). Photo: Pariplab Chakraborty. The exhibition also featured an excerpt of a presentation by Vera Tamari along with the digital prints of her works. Presented originally in a conference titled 'Art and War', organised by the Goethe Institute in Ramallah, in November 2004, it goes like this: Going for a Ride? (Installation, 2002) Cars are powerful icons in our society. Other than being urban household commodities, cars have become a metaphor of daily life. These inanimate objects even carry an emotional significance for most people. Not for me; I never owned a car nor learnt to drive one, but seeing my friend Liza's Volkswagen Beetle as I peeked from behind the shutters of my window one morning made me shudder. That quaint red car in which we often rode, was visibly smashed. It was lying on its hood wheels up, almost like a dead real beetle. In Going for a Ride? those inanimate objects, symbols of well-being, status, and freedom have in an act of vindictive violence, perpetrated by the Israeli military tanks in the 2002 invasion of Ramallah, taken on a new reality. They metamorphosed from once practical objects to become subjects of vengeful voodooism. Do we hurt the Palestinians more by destroying their cherished personal belongings? My idea in making this installation was not to merely to fashion junk as an art form or an anti-gesture as advocated by Nouveau Realiste or Dada artists such as Marcel Duchamp and Cesare in their crashed car compositions. Both artists challenged the conventional notion of art as an aesthetic exercise. I simply wanted to make a statement about how a mundane logical reality becomes totally illogical through the violence of the war machine. It is hard to see my installation of smashed cars as not carrying a political meaning. Seven hundred private and public cars were smashed in the military incursion of Ramallah alone. I wanted to give those cars a voice – an ironic reflection on the unnecessary nature of violence whose authors were the Israeli occupation forces. This act of destruction became like action art disturbing the status quo of matters. The soldiers in this case have become the artist creators. The soldiers the viewers. The soldiers as re-creators. The installation piece kept changing. It had a new energy each time – more violent than the previous one. I was merely the curator. Basma Al Sharif's work. Photo: Pariplab Chakraborty. Basma Alsharif is an artist and filmmaker of Palestine heritage. A series of Basma's six photographs are on display in this exhibition. Her works explore the cyclical political histories and confront the 'legacy of colonisation with satire, doubt and hope'. SAHMAT's continued solidarity with the Palestinian people finds a vivid expression in this exhibition, where, as the curator articulates 'the response to the Palestine question across the world has become a unifying force that creates new solidarities as an antidote to the atomising effects of a military-industrial complex'. 'The Body Called Palestine' aims to remember the history and presence of Israeli settler colonialism and its genocidal military offence as it is. This is valuable at a time when the larger mediascape peddles false narratives without any accountability and often erects a smokescreen of half-truths and lies, that help those in power obfuscate historical facts and cultivate public apathy. Aban Raza, a Delhi-based artist who also co-curated an art exhibition in solidarity with Palestine last year titled 'Fida-e-Filistine' and organised by SAHMAT, says, 'This exhibition is a testament to artists' solidarity from around the world with the Palestinian struggle and our collective resistance, despite all odds and silencing.' Labani Jangi's 'Even after a genocide, the rising moon doesn't burn our eyes'. Photo: Pariplab Chakraborty. This watercolour painting by artist and scholar Labani Jangi from Nadia, West Bengal, explores the difference in her perception of the moon between her childhood and the present, where there's a full scale massacre of Palestinian lives happening in every passing day. 'The moon that once used to bring Eid, festivals or fantastic stories from Naani now stands still – in silence like a representative of those who can afford to dwell in apathy. Those who remain silent even after seeing a genocide in front of their eyes – drenched in the propagandas of fascist regimes,' says Labani. The exhibition is on view until May 31, from 9.30 am to 7 pm at Jawahar Bhawan, New Delhi. Make a contribution to Independent Journalism Related News Why Israel's New Aid Delivery System for Gaza Is Sparking Outrage Concerns Expressed Over Gaza Situation, Modi Government Accused of 'Assisting Genocide' 'This Genocide Implicates Us All': 380 Writers, Organisations Call on Israel to Cease Fire in Gaza Humanitarian Crisis in Gaza: Families Forced to the Shore Amid Escalating Conflict For Your Own Sake, Please Care for Palestine From Colonial Loot to Cultural Genocide at the British Museum What the 'Cauliflower' in BJP Karnataka's X Post Means Judge's Order Frees Indian Scholar Detained in US Over Support for Palestine 'We've Killed So Many Children – It's Hard to Argue with That': Tel Aviv Protesters in Silent Vigil About Us Contact Us Support Us © Copyright. All Rights Reserved.
The Hindu
22-05-2025
- Entertainment
- The Hindu
‘The Body Called Palestine': an exhibition at Jawahar Bhavan that exposes the raw anger and the unmitigated pain of Palestinian artists
The more things change the more they stay the same. More than 20 years ago, Palestinian author Rana Barakati was quoted in Seeking Palestine, 'Palestine-in-exile is an idea, a love, a goal, a movement…a poem, a thesis, and yes, a people scattered, displaced, dispossessed and determined.' Not much has changed since then. The Palestinians, if anything, are devastated today. But as Barkati said, it is a movement, a poem, an art. Lending Palestinian art some space in New Delhi is Jawahar Bhawan which is hosting 'The Body Called Palestine' exhibition, featuring 140 works by Palestinian, Indian, and few other international artists. Curated by Kolkata-based Amit Mukhopadhyay and organised by SAHMAT, the exhibition which has digital prints of some of the best Palestinian works explores the impact of the Israeli occupation on Palestinian life. It talks of love and loss, anguish and unmitigated pain. Says Aban Raza, a New Delhi-based artist, 'It's an attempt to show solidarity with Palestine. We are living in times when taking the name of Palestine is not always safe. There is an attempt at suppression; at times people are not allowed to show solidarity. That makes the exhibition even more important. It's an effort to channel our anguish.' 'The works on display express the spirit of protest, solidarity on the question of unity besides anger and pain in the context of settler colonialism which is destroying the very fabric of Palestinian life and culture,' Amit corroborates. The works are a reminder of the long struggle to be free from oppression and cruelty unprecedented in our time, he adds. Most are just black and white, lending a unique appeal to the show. 'It reminds us of the holocaust,' says Amit. We have heard of people being arrested for unfurling the Palestinian flag, and much of social media is either silent on Israel's atrocities, or even in support. Wasn't putting together this exhibition where artists talk of displacement, denial, even death, a matter more of guts than an artist's brush? 'If you are searching for truth then the question of guts does not matter. What guides you is to find the reality and the truth of life lived by the Palestinian people for so many years. Yes, there were difficulties but one needs to be patient, especially for those artists from Gaza who have lost everything. If you are sincere and honest, you get the honest response from the artists even though it may take some time. But finally, it was quite satisfying and fulfilling,' Amit says. The exhibition features digital prints of Palestine artists' works as most could not travel or send their original works due to unending violence in Gaza. 'It was important to speak up. As we could not have hoped to get the original works due to constant killings and bombing of the innocent people in Palestine, we got digital prints of many of the works,' says Raza. The idea was to communicate, to awaken, to arouse and understand the plight of Palestine and Palestinians. Delhi's date with Palestine could not have been better timed. At Jawahar Bhavan, Dr Rajendra Prasad Road, Opposite Shastri Bhawan, Windsor Place; Till May 31; 9.30am to 7pm
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Business Standard
07-05-2025
- Politics
- Business Standard
The SITA factor: Yechury's essays defend socialism as real choice
This posthumous volume distils Sitaram Yechury's lifelong case for socialism as a path to dignity and justice Aditi Phadnis THE FIGHT FOR THEREPUBLIC Author: Sitaram Yechury Publisher: TulikaBooks; SAHMAT Pages:120 Price: ₹250 At least since 1996, when India got its first Communist home minister, the Indian Left has been trying to establish that there is something beyond TINA (There Is No Alternative) in Indian politics — and that it could be SITA (Socialism Is The Alternative). Till he was taken from us far too soon, strengthening the foundations of this premise was the burden of CPI (M) General Secretary, Sitaram Yechury. And this is the case he makes in a collection of his essays, put together after his death in a slim volume with an extensive and scholarly introduction by respected Left economist Prabhat Patnaik. Dr Patnaik's essay provides the theoretical underpinning for Yechury's articles. He explains that India's anti-colonial struggle was inclusive and sought to unite everyone in a common struggle. This was the vision that was the basis for the Constitution and the idea that India was a secular democracy committed to social justice and federalism. But to defend this edifice, India needed an economic trajectory that would break asset concentration, especially land. Dr Patnaik concedes that this line of thought could not acquire dominance both during and after the Independence movement. So, India remained semi-feudal, with capital asset concentration in the hands of a few — a process that accelerated after 1991 in a form of neoliberalism. This in turn led to deepening income inequality, a slower rate of job creation as the state retreated from economic activity, and a crisis of consumption that reached its height in the collapse of the housing bubble in 2008, leading to stagnation. He reminds us that worldwide, these processes were in evidence in the decades of the 1980s. As monopoly capital saw threats to its empire, it sought to divert the attention of people from their material conditions into other directions. Dr Patnaik sees the rise of Marine Le Pen, for instance, as a result of these moves and sees a similar situation elsewhere in Europe and in India. Neo-liberalism dislikes taxing the rich and is critical of a fiscal deficit. What is more, finance is globally mobile now. So, no government can increase employment by using the tools neoliberalism offers. Which is why forces like the ones unleashed by Ms Le Pen (and similar ones in India) find roots; but simultaneously, these forces cannot survive endlessly, because at some point people will rise up against these governments like they did in the case of Jair Bolsonaro in Brazil or Donald Trump in his first term. However, till structural solutions to livelihood crises are offered by succeeding governments, neofascism will remain a global threat. Interestingly, Dr Patnaik says alternatives to ward off impoverishment, such as welfare schemes of the sort both the Congress and the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) have offered, are not backed by any fiscal guarantees and are placebos at best. For instance, what is the point of transferring money to the female in the house in the belief that this will pay for the children's school fees, if there are no schools nearby? All that happens is private schools raise fees if they know such transfers are imminent. His solution is to provide constitutional guarantees and place the responsibility on the state. The whole thing can be paid for via taxes such as an inheritance tax. Not everyone, even in the Left, would agree. Outside the Left, given the steadily receding electoral imprint of the Left parties among the people, there appear to be even fewer takers for the argument. But in his essays, Yechury makes a powerful case for fighting the BJP, a line the CPI (M) adopted at its 16th Party Congress in Calcutta in 1998 shortly after the BJP came to power at the Centre, that it must become the main force in mobilising democratic forces. To the point that when in 2004, Sonia Gandhi decided she would not become Prime Minister, it was Sitaram Yechury who tried to convince her otherwise. Why should the BJP be fought? His article, first published as a CPI (M) pamphlet in 1993, days after the Babri Masjid was razed, reflects both rage and pain and contests all the reasons for the demolition, citing Vivekananda and Adi Shankara. It also challenges many assertions about Muslims, such as polygamy (more Hindus do it), the rate of growth of the minority population in India (the fears that minorities can ever overtake the majority numerically are unscientific), and mosque demolition in Islamic states (they're theocratic, India is not). In another article on 'What is Hindu Rashtra?', published in Frontline, he quotes extensively from M S Golwalkar to point out that many premises about the Hindu Rashtra are actually ahistorical. And the last piece, 'India at 75', published in 2021, takes a look at the BJP-led government's record. It says: 'The new narrative suggests that while we achieved our independence on 15 August, 1947, India's real freedom was achieved with the abrogation of Article 370 and 35 A of our Constitution, the dissolution of the state of Jammu & Kashmir on 5 August 2019, and the formal launching of the Ram temple construction in Ayodhya on 5 August 2020'. Till the end of his life, Yechury believed that there could be a future free of exploitation, inequity, injustice and denial of human dignity to millions. He believed the state must have no religion and every individual must be free to practise any religion they liked. Many will continue to find his ideals illuminating and inspiring. This book is for them.
