The West owes Palestinian-American journalists justice – The Cauldron
***Disclaimer: This is an opinion piece. This article in no way reflects the views of The Cauldron and its staff. It only reflects the views of the columnist.
Palestinian-American journalists should not have to trade in their press jackets for their identities – nor their lives.
The 70+ year-long conflict between Israel and Palestine has generated an unparalleled controversy that obstructs civil discourse on the subject.
With competing claims over land and indigeneity, the path to peace in the Middle Eastern region has been marred by militant violence on both sides, the Israeli occupation’s human rights abuses against the Palestinians, and the political and economic interests of the West.
What is now one of the bloodiest land disputes in history has resulted in a Palestinian diaspora scattered across the globe, shaped by separate waves of refugees and immigrants dating back to the 1948 Nakba.
Despite being hundreds and thousands of miles away from home, Palestinians (focusing on those living in the West) in the diaspora still face the consequences of the violence that plagues their homeland. To even possess the identity of a Palestinian provokes debate in various Western circles, be it the classroom, the workplace, the Saturday social gathering or the internet.
In the case of the Western press, to be a Palestinian-American journalist means that one must work relentlessly to dispel doubts that their work is at all partial toward the Palestinian cause or plagued with bias in any way. Indeed, your credibility is persistently under a microscope.
Two years ago, a committee chose me, a Palestinian-American raised by West Bank immigrants, to be the editor-in-chief of Cleveland State’s student publication. A few months later was Oct. 7, 2023. That day, the militant group Hamas launched an attack against Israel that killed over 1,000 Israeli civilians. After the attack, Israel began a bombardment on the Gaza Strip that has destroyed nearly the entire territory and has killed over 50,000 Gazans thus far.
In the wake of Oct. 7 and Israel’s initial retaliations, the University sent out a divisive statement standing in solidarity with Israel while failing to acknowledge its enormous Palestinian student community. Local protests for both sides ignited in the streets of Cleveland, disrupting local government and business operations. The presence of a crisis far, far away manifested on and around an American college campus in unprecedented ways.
And my job as chief editor became almost entirely about Israel and Palestine.
Suddenly, the publication was releasing a series of stories on how the devastation unfolding in Gaza affected many members of the campus population – including me, the one with final editorial say on such stories.
As time went on and the war raged, fellow students came to question the capacity of our staff to effectively cover the subject without bias. Why? Well, because I was in charge.
At that point, the work I did became more than just effective, comprehensive coverage. I had to toil to squash doubts that my Palestinian heritage clouded my judgment and threatened our publication’s impartiality. I kept my head held high. But I seriously began to question my ability to be true to myself in the field of journalism.
Moreover, our coverage of a Cleveland Heights man who used to set up pro-Israel demonstrations on campus – while disparaging Palestinian and Muslim students in passing and even on social media – eventually made me fear for my safety.
Suddenly, to be a journalist meant to live in fear.
Reflecting on my own experiences, I remember Shireen Abu Akleh, a prominent Palestinian-American journalist who was murdered by Israeli forces in the West Bank in 2022. Clad in her press jacket, she had been reporting on a recent attack in a Jenin refugee camp the moment of her murder, and to this day, no criminal investigation into her death has been launched.
I fully acknowledge that there is simply no comparison to be made between myself, an average student journalist in Cleveland, Ohio, with the profound heroism and martyrdom of Palestinian journalists who have fought ceaselessly for transparency and justice for their homeland and people.
Yet even so much as a snarky remark from a college peer exemplifies the larger crisis experienced by Palestinian-American journalists across the West (and beyond, much like in the case of Abu Akleh). Their quality of life in nearly every corner of the world is unsatisfactory, with their Palestinian identity alone risking their credibility and survival.
Palestinian-American film and journalism student Ruby Darwish, who reports for The Cleveland Stater, offered her own take on the subject, echoing similar sentiments:
“I believe the treatment of Palestinian journalists…is indicative of the shared blood thirst for power by the Zionist entity and the West. Journalists in every sector have been targeted and censored. From universities to big newsrooms, the Zionist entity will try its best to slander the names of Palestinians, who they fear the most.”
Western press can no longer allow this while mindlessly chanting for transparency and justice in reporting. Non-Palestinian journalists must challenge the systemic prejudice that has long plagued their Palestinian-American colleagues.
Only then will the press live up to its mission, and only then will Palestinians across the world be on the path to safety.