And how many ears must one man have
Before he can hear people cry?
Yes, and how many deaths will it take ’til he knows
That too many people have died?
The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind
The answer is blowin’ in the wind.
The music was going on in the background and the night was growing darker with black sky illuminated by the moon and the stars. The noise of vehicles and footsteps of people were slowly becoming fainter as the clock was inducing the town to a sleep mode. I was tired but as an insomniac too, I dashed to the balcony with a cup of coffee. The air was filled with joy and the breath of cool breeze amidst silence filled my heart with serenity. Since I had nothing to do, I started to surf Youtube. A news that I came across shattered me into pieces. I was impaired, lost into oblivion and the world started crumbling before me. The news was a new attack on Israel and so began another new wave of Israel-Palestine conflict.
With the knowledge I am acquainted with, I would say, the conflict is not just about the Zionist movement but of identity attached to the land of Jerusalem. Broadly speaking, the conflict is about the issue of national identity or nationality. It fills me with rage when I see the same traditional inclination of people to methodical nationality. Though our history, in the name of nationality influenced by nationalist sentiment, is painted with bloodshed and outcries of millions yet, we have not been able to unlearn those vulnerable ideologies. It is a shame to the whole human race that we, in the name of identity, ethnicity and nationality, are systematically purging our own brothers and sisters.
The emotional outrage was so high that I got lost into a wilderness of thoughts. I took a sip of coffee but it no longer felt any good. The bitterness of coffee added more bitterness to my pain and the chilling breeze could no longer fill my lungs with tranquility so, I summoned myself back to the room. The gloomy room further accentuated my gloomy thoughts. Several questions passed through my head unanswered: Why would people flare up discontentment with a minor issue of national identity? Why Holocaust, Mussolini’s fascism and Mao’s Cultural Revolution could not teach people the bloody aftermaths of nationality? Why is the world still divided into ‘us’ and ‘them’? And, how long will it take before people realize that they themselves are fueling their own extinction?
It was two o’clock and I remember myself still hooked on my thoughts, unable to fall asleep. Fear had triggered my mind so hard that all I could hear at that moment was rattles of bombs and cries, all I could smell was terror. I repeatedly asked myself: Today when globalization has resulted in mass migrations, multiple citizenship and transnational identities leading to acculturation and assimilation of cultures, is it justifiable that we still fight in the name of national identity? Are we still unaware of the relationship between the growing number of refugees and the issue of nationality or national identity? Is it justifiable to place nationality above humanity and brotherhood? Should we not break the barriers of nationality now?
I have always been taught about the power of humanity, love and compassion but such terrifying violence in the name of nationality made me more desperate and pessimistic. I was deeply devastated and broken. I felt the night so long, I was aware of the paradoxical time experience yet, I could not help myself. Every second felt like an hour and my anxiety grew even stronger.
All I could think at that moment of insomnia was a need for our mental attitude to depart from nationalist sentiment to a broader spectrum of humanity and inter-nationality. The consciousness that one’s personal identity is not solely attached to a particular nation and nationality is mainly nationhood rather than national identity. If only humans could break the barriers of nationality. If only humans would try. If only… If only…
By the time my thoughts were spreading like a turbulent fire, the new sunrise marked the end of the night. There I was, I had passed one more night of insomnia cursing the world and people. The next day, the world appeared as usual, full of noise and crowd from the streets. I disguised my insomnia and thoughts under the veil of daylight, made a cup of coffee and moved along with the crowd as if nothing had ever happened. That’s life, you still pretend to be normal when actually nothing is normal.
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