Nammar was born in Jerusalem in 1941 to wealthy landowners with ancestral ties to the region stretching back hundreds of years; his childhood was rich with family, friends, and educational opportunities amidst a diverse and tolerant population. But all that changed when his school bus was brutally attacked by machine gunners, killing two of his classmates, and injuring many more. Though his "body had been spared," Nammar writes that thenceforth he was "spiritually wounded." That metaphysical grievance become all too real when just a few years later, at the age of seven, he and hundreds of thousands of Palestinians were displaced in the exodus (which some considered an ethnic cleansing) known as the Nakba, a result of Israel's declaration of independence and the violence visited upon them by Menachim Begin and his "paramilitary gang." In a surprisingly measured voice, the author details the ensuing struggles faced by his family and countless others, the solace he found in swimming at the YMCA, and his difficult decision, at 23 years old, to finally flee his conflict-ridden homeland for the United States. Nammar writes that Israel "didn't afford me a voice, economic independence, or a future. It had torn apart…my cohesive self." His story is moving and serves as an argument in its own right for peace in a region that has been characterized for far too long by politico-religious strife. B&W photos & maps. (Apr.)
His memoir of his experiences in Israel until he emigrated to the U.S. is heartfelt and engrossing, and it provides an immensely valuable perspective from among the rarely heard voices of Israeli Arabs... his story provides valuable insights into the hopes, difficulties, and sorrows of Israeli Arabs.
Nammar was born in Jerusalem in 1941 to wealthy landowners with ancestral ties to the region stretching back hundreds of years; his childhood was rich with family, friends, and educational opportunities amidst a diverse and tolerant population. But all that changed when his school bus was brutally attacked by machine gunners, killing two of his classmates, and injuring many more. Though his 'body had been spared,' Nammar writes that thenceforth he was 'spiritually wounded.' That metaphysical grievance become all too real when just a few years later, at the age of seven, he and hundreds of thousands of Palestinians were displaced in the exodus (which some considered an ethnic cleansing) known as the Nakba, a result of Israel's declaration of independence and the violence visited upon them by Menachim Begin and his 'paramilitary gang.' In a surprisingly measured voice, the author details the ensuing struggles faced by his family and countless others, the solace he found in swimming at the YMCA, and his difficult decision, at 23 years old, to finally flee his conflict-ridden homeland for the United States. Nammar writes that Israel 'didn't afford me a voice, economic independence, or a future. It had torn apart 'my cohesive self.' His story is moving and serves as an argument in its own right for peace in a region that has been characterized for far too long by politico-religious strife. B&W photos & maps.
This timely autobiographical story, Born in Jerusalem, Born Palestinian, written by Jacob Nammar, a Palestinian Christian, recounts his bittersweet yet, fervent family life memories and his despondent world of experiences as a youth. Nammar's spiritual ethos recaptures and etches out his visions firmly throughout the archives of his personal and family history, during, before and after the 1948 Nakba... Jacob's story will eventually be recognized as a tribute and evocation of contemporary human beings who have suffered under ethnic cleansing and in particular the Palestinian experience of separate and unequal laws of injustice and racism.
This is a compelling and compassionate memoir of a Jerusalem life during wartime and after... stands out as one of very few works that addresses the life for those Palestinians who stayed behind in the Israeli occupied part of (West) Jerusalem... On this level the book is original and has significant ethnographic value for the historical researcher, as well as for students of the Arab Israeli conflict.
"Very compelling and personal... fragrant details, great zoom-lens scenes of Palestinian family life... pull us right into the landscape and the domain... I support this book and salute its honesty and stirring intentions. We need it in our world. We need every single politician to have a copy in his/her back pocket. As the daughter of a Palestinian also from Jerusalem, I can say that this book rings deeply true to me, and assuages my sorrow somewhat over all the injustice which has pervaded the Holy City for far too long... Nammar makes a strong stride in all the right directions."
There is so much in this autobiography to savor. The history we know so well is told to us through a Palestinian life that survived it. It shines with the richness of Palestinian culture, expansive generosity and the hills we cherish in our hearts and memories. It is filled with a sad patience and a dream tarnished with decades of impunity. This is a Palestinian narrative that should be read far and wide
Told with exquisite detail and beauty... this readable memoir will help many people around the world understand the reality of Palestine and its dispossessed people.
His memoir of his experiences in Israel until he emigrated to the U.S. is heartfelt and engrossing, and it provides an immensely valuable perspective from among the rarely heard voices of Israeli Arabs... his story provides valuable insights into the hopes, difficulties, and sorrows of Israeli Arabs.
A Palestinian-American remembers an idyllic pre-1948 childhood in Palestine. Because of restrictions on economic opportunity, Nammar was forced to leave his beloved homeland at age 23. Here, he looks back at this bittersweet era of his youth. "Balance" marked the community he knew as a child, where the three Abrahamic religions resided in harmony, socializing and patronizing each other's businesses within a curious mixture of Turkish, Armenian, Arab and Jewish customs. Born to an old, well-established family in the Haret al-Nammareh neighborhood--his father was a tour guide, and his mother was an educated refugee of the Armenian genocide--Nammar generally enjoyed a bountiful, bucolic first six years of life in Palestine. All changed abruptly when Zionist agitation broke out, marked by such events as a machine gun attack on his school bus and the bombing of the King David Hotel in 1946, where Nammar's older brother, Mihran, worked at the front desk. After Israeli independence, the Palestinian neighborhoods were inhabited by Israelis in what Nammar describes as a deliberate Zionist policy of nikayon, or ethnic cleansing. Herded into a military zone, Nammar's father and Mihran were detained in prison without explanation. Eventually, the family was reunited but without employment or prospects. The author writes movingly of his education by the nuns and his refuge at the Jerusalem YMCA, where he was both embraced for his athleticism and eventually marginalized, rejected for Israel's national basketball team because of his nationality. An authentic, matter-of-fact, nonpolemical depiction of Palestinian life.
