Ursula Biemann: We have had an ongoing discussion about the possibility of designing and experiencing post-territorial forms of a Palestinian cultural and political life. Half of the Palestinian population, about five million people, live outside of their home territory as refugees, mostly in adjacent states, but also scattered across the world. And those in Palestine live under several different legal jurisdictions and are often forcibly isolated from each other. Given the importance of the interconnectivity among these separated pockets of Palestinian populations, it has been useful to look at the deterritorialized models of belonging which have emerged through the networked matrix of this widely dispersed community.
During the interview for the video X-Mission in summer 2008, you argued that the transnational condition of Palestinians should not be perceived only as a deficit. It could also be the most important resource they have to build a future for themselves. That is, the ways in which Palestinians negotiate their fragmented spaces can help them to build a nation. You have been given the opportunity to materialize these ideas now. Recently you have been appointed director of the Palestinian Museum, entrusted with developing and implementing a concept for this new cultural institution. Given this context, how can one conceive a mission of such a museum?
Beshara Doumani: Allow me first to thank you for the opportunity to talk about the museum project. The conceptualization is still at an early stage, so my remarks are preliminary and I welcome critical responses from the readers of this special issue. The early iterations of this project conceived of it as a traditional national museum. That is, a major commemorative structure built around a single chronological narrative from ancient times to the present. I conceptualize it, instead, as a mobilizing and interactive cultural project that can stitch together the fragmented Palestinian body politic by presenting a wide variety of narratives about the relationships of Palestinians to the land, to each other and to the wider world. How this is done, of course, is of the utmost importance.
UB:You think of the nature of the museum as a process. Why is this so important in this case and how does it affect history writing per se?
BD: The Palestinians have a rich history and deep identification with their homeland. Since the late nineteenth century, they have suffered from the appropriation of their land, from control over their movement, and from severe human rights abuses, including the trauma of ethnic cleansing. The instinctive reaction when discussing a museum is to build an iconic structure with a set of fixed exhibitions that paint a romantic and defensive portrait of the past, that convey the trauma of dispossession and dispersal in 1948 and 1967, and that bear witness to the continuing tragedies of the present. I understand the temptation of victimhood and the urge to occupy the high moral ground, but going too far in these directions robs Palestinians both of agency and of the responsibility that comes with agency. The idea, therefore, is that the museum will view narratives are more open ended and contingent so as to empower users. That is, the museum raises specific themes, presents information, asks questions, and provides the resources for users to explore these and other questions they may have. Palestinians and other users can both benefit from and shape the museum as a cultural project.
Of course, it is still fundamentally important to present a coherent narrative about who the Palestinians are, how they came to be, and the nature of their current conditions. It is also critical to create a national space that affirms the existence of the Palestinians and that recovers much of what has been and still is being silenced and erased by hegemonic discourses that are constructed by the victors in this asymmetrical conflict. It is my hope that the tension generated by asking questions critical of nationalist constructions of the past while, at the same time, presenting a narrative baseline that can bring Palestinians together, can be a productive one. The idea is to engage and transform users through active participation as they try to negotiate this tension.
UB: The museum project interests me in the context of this discussion on extraterritorial spaces, because it raises the question of how to conceive of a national museum in the absence of a sovereign state. Why is such a large-scale cultural project needed and what makes it possible now?
BD: A major cultural project is needed for several reasons. First, in order to bring all three major segments of the Palestinian population –Palestinian citizens of Israel; those living under foreign military occupation in Gaza, the West Bank, and East Jerusalem; and the refugees– together in a way that the field of formal politics has not been able to do. There is a need for interconnectivity on the basis of a platform that is open, inclusive and alive. The idea is not to divorce politics but to stretch the meaning of the political to include strategies of everyday survival that the Palestinians have proven to be masters of. It is these strategies that produce and transform what it means to be Palestinian. Given the absence of a coherent political vision since the first intifada in the late 1980s and given the sheer diversity of circumstances under which Palestinians live, a cultural platform, in the broad sense of the word, is absolutely vital for survival, resistance, and meaning under very difficult conditions.
UB:Are you saying that the museum as the representative locus of history, is a cultural project that could stand in for a failed political one? Are you imagining a museum-state?
BD: Not a museum-state as much as a museum-nation. By this I mean that the emphasis is on agency and peoplehood, not on state power and state-building. The museum can attempt to be an embodiment of the Palestinian body-politic, but in a transnational not territorially-fixed setting. It becomes, in a sense, an arena for the performance and reproduction of this peoplehood by Palestinians. Put differently, for Palestinians to achieve self-determination, they must take control of their narrative. If knowledge is power, then Palestinian institutions must play a leading role in shaping knowledge production about Palestinian history and society. Considering the absence of a state I can’t think of a better institution to achieving this goal than a narrative museum. Ironically, this very absence of strong national institutions, not to mention a sovereign state, means that there is no single power that can impose a fixed nationalist narrative from above. Multi-vocal and contingent narratives become possible. These, in turn, open new spaces for individual and collective imaginations of possible futures; hence, hope and change instead of despair and powerlessness.
Besides presenting narratives that construct communities and shape opinions about the past, present, and future, a narrative museum also generates new knowledge by providing facilities, resources, and expertise for scholars, artists, educational institutions, non-governmental organizations, and research centers sympathetic to the Palestinian cause. Most of the attention, therefore, has to be paid to what I call the “living organs” of the museum project. That is, the institutional and human resources. At this time, for example, Palestinians do not have a national archive or a national library, both of which are crucial to the production of knowledge. The museum would not be an alternative, but a key part of it will be a deep and user-friendly archival center that can digitize locally-produced sources and make them available for researchers. Other “living organs” of the museum would include a research center, an exhibition and design team, educational and outreach programs, and so on.
UB: If the museum is going to be located in the West Bank, access to these resources and facilities will be quite difficult though. And given their importance, they will be under constant scrutiny.
BD: Establishing a museum while still under a foreign military occupation is a difficult challenge to say the least. Obviously, the museum has to deliver content in a variety of ways. It is important to have a unique and iconic physical structure in Palestine that can symbolize Palestinian hopes and aspirations. This structure can house narrative exhibits as well as the various departments that would generate knowledge and provide interactive programs to communities. Of course, the overwhelming majority of Palestinians will not be able to physically experience a museum building in Palestine, regardless of its location. Gaza is under siege, Jerusalem is closed to all except those with permits, the West Bank is a collection of enclosed human warehouses surrounded by check points, and so on. This is not to mention Palestinians citizens of Israel and all those living as refugees. In addition, any location inside of Palestine will be under effective Israeli control for the foreseeable future and can be subject to closures, looting, and destruction.
It is crucial, therefore, to consider other modes of delivery. One that immediately comes to mind is the virtual. A virtual platform has many advantages. It democratizes the experience of participating in this cultural project. Anyone with access to the internet should be able to become an active user. That is, the virtual connection is not so much about providing 3-D tours of the museum building as about bringing users into a world of discovery in which they, especially the young, have incentives for repeated engagement. Through the virtual connection, users should be able to find resources that can help them interrogate their past, ask critical questions about their present conditions, and participate in the making of their own future. Users will also be able to upload their own archives and experiences, establish connections with other users and so on.
Even established traditional museums are plugging into a trans-national cultural landscape as they transform themselves into essentially educational institutions and resources for the production of content. This is because only a rare few of them can hope to sustain themselves or have more than just a local impact if they depend solely on walk-in visitors.
Another significant mode of delivery would be satellite museums in areas of major concentrations of Palestinians and perhaps in key cosmopolitan centers. Those that directly service Palestinian communities –such as in Lebanon, Jordan, Syria, United States, Latin America, and so on, would be akin to community centers. That is, they would host local and traveling exhibits that target specific audiences; provide users with robust portals for accessing museum content and for connecting with other communities; and provide a space to show films, hold lectures series, and install a variety of artistic and educational projects. Satellite museums are one way that Palestinians become not merely an audience, but participants who can shape this project through a network of transnational centers that, in a way, mirror the Palestinian condition.
UB: Let us now turn to your core problem of how to produce narratives that build a nation in a post-national spirit.
BD: This is a delicate and difficult issue that can never be fully resolved. It is helpful here to try to think of narrative guidelines that shape the process of knowledge production and representation without pre-determining the content or homogenizing the image. One has to accept a point of departure that assumes peoplehood; otherwise, why establish a Palestinian Museum to begin with. At this same time, however, it is important not to impose a single definition or story of that peoplehood. For example, the modern Palestinian story is fundamentally similar to those of other peoples who have been dispossessed and denied. At the same time, it is also a singular story, if only because of the highly symbolic and spiritual significance of Palestine to Muslims, Christians, and Jews. This is a unique feature of Palestinian history that requires outside-the-box thinking about what a narrative museum is and can be. Another unique features is the geographical location. As the land bridge between Asia and Africa, Palestine has been a cultural highway throughout history. The dynamism and hybridity that infuse this history cannot be neatly boxed into the boundaries drawn by the British for their Mandate over Palestine in the early 20th century.
A related guideline is that the narratives should be inclusive, not exclusive. The Palestinians are heirs to a rich and varied history. The meaning of Palestinian includes many religions, ethnicities, and ways of life. Just because Palestinians are erased or demonized in conventional Israeli narratives, does not mean that Palestinian narratives have to do the same. Instead of ignoring the Jewish presence in Palestine, for example, the museum can take control of how to tell that story. The Mediterranean, Arab, and Muslim dimensions of the Palestinian experience also ought to be acknowledged as well as the complexity of long-standing local and regional identities, all of which challenge the modern state system established after the World War One.
Another guideline is that the museum project should aim to help Palestinians to rebuild and empower themselves, but in a pro-active not reactive way. The power of the Zionist project and its supporters is such that the story of the Palestinians has been colonized and selectively erased in much the same way as the land itself was taken and the native population ethnically cleansed. And it is important to add here that this process of material and discursive colonization is still ongoing and with an urgent brutality. The question becomes: how can Palestinians take control of and shape their own narratives, but not in a defensive mechanical way that simply responds to how they are represented by others? After all, a defensive posture only reinforces the conceptual frame and vocabulary of the very narrative that is being challenged.
One can think of other guidelines such as the importance of emphasizing that the current conditions of the Palestinians are not an outcome of primordial religious or civilizational conflicts, but of modern circumstances, especially the colonial encounter. The idea here is to consciously step outside conventional nationalist narratives and critically interrogate them. Discussions and debates about these and other guidelines are needed and must, of course, involve not just intellectuals or professional cultural workers, but a wide range of stakeholders such as community organizers and solidarity organizations. Freedom, justice, and dignity cannot be delivered to the Palestinians nor can the Palestinians achieve them on their own. The whole world is implicated and one of the most important ways to creatively mobilize behind these goals is through a major cultural project such as the Palestinian Museum.
UB: Since you mention solidarity networks and the world community, how do you see the trans-local Palestinian condition connected to a larger global project articulating the struggle of other disenfranchised communities. Now that the peak of post-colonial critique has passed, how does the Palestinian cause fit within the wider picture at present?
BD: The Palestinians cause, long shelved under the decolonization sign is now increasingly viewed under the anti-globalization post-national sign. In the anti-globalization movement, the support for the Palestinian cause goes hand in hand with anti-war, anti-civilizational divides, anti-politics of fear, and anti-imperialist struggles. It is quite striking that almost anywhere one goes, one is certain to come across grassroots initiatives in solidarity with Palestinians. Thus, although the Palestinian situation is singular in many important respects, their experience has become deeply symbolic of the dark side of modernity: Foreign invasion and colonization, territorial partition, demographic displacement, and extraterritoriality. It is important not to lose sight, however, of the fundamental importance of statehood for Palestinians. Global elites can afford a transnational existence, but most Palestinians are poor, powerless, and in need of strong protection and services that only states can deliver. This is why the state/territory/peoplehood matrix still remains at the heart of the Palestinian political discourses at a time when the very concept of the nation-state as a form of political organization is being increasingly questioned.
UB:Cultural producer is perhaps the best term for what you are doing. It acknowledges the complexity involved in setting up this museum from the institutional web of financial and physical logistics, academic work, to the possibilities of display space.As a historian, how does it feel to slip in the role of cultural producer?
BD: “Slip” is too smooth a word for what is already a rough and tumble process that I have learned to approach with a great deal of humility. It is one thing to research and write, and quite another to construct a vision, mobilize around it, and then transform it into a complex institution. It is one thing to produce stories in the form of a heavily footnoted monograph that can only be consumed over days and weeks; and it is another to install, for instance, a multi-media narrative exhibit that imparts simple but powerful messages almost instantaneously. It is one thing to work alone in the archives, and quite another to manage teams of professionals in joint endeavors. It is one thing to own one’s voice (or at least the illusion of it) and quite another to have to calculate a path for institutional development through one of the most sensitive political minefields in the world.
UB:You describe a very interesting process here that makes me think of Walter Benjamin’s text “The Author as Producer” from 1934 where he argued that the role of the author and the artist is not just to respond to what is going on from a removed observational vantage point but, as a “producer,” to engage and actively change the course of social politics. This explains, perhaps, why in times of crisis, cultural producers turn to the collective model and engage in building institutional structures. As a scholar of cultural and social history you propose an institutional practice that presents authorship as a collective endeavor extending into other disciplines, notably contemporary cultural and art production. What do you see the role of art in preserving and articulating cultural memory?
BD: Works of art bear witness to the historic and societal contexts in which they are created, regardless of whether or not they actually comment on them. Thanks to art’s capacity of self-reflection it provides an essential interpretive framework for future possibilities for self-understanding and cultural identity within Palestinian or any other society.
Biography:
Beshara Doumani is Professor of History at the University of California, Berkeley, specializing in the social and cultural history of the modern Middle East. He is the author of Rediscovering Palestine: Merchants and Peasants in Jabal Nablus, 1700-1900 (University of California Press, 1995); and editor of Family History in the Middle East: Household, Property, and Gender (SUNY Press, 2003), and Academic Freedom After September 11, (Zone Books/MIT Press, 2006). In 2007-2008, Doumani was a fellow at Harvard University's Radcliffe Institute for Advanced Study in Cambridge, Massachusetts where he wrote his forthcoming book, tentatively titled, Between Kin and Court: Family, Gender, and Law, to be published by Cambridge University Press. He is a frequent commentator on Middle East affairs in various media, and was recently appointed Director of the Palestinian Museum.
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