Friday 05-05-2023 - 14:00

Written by Olivia Vann Vice President for Welfare & Community

On a recent trip to Palestine, myself, the Students’ Union Manager, and staff from Social Science embarked on a tour of life in the Middle East, where we had the opportunity to meet students at Bethlehem University, and Palestine Technical University in Tulkarm, as well as locals from the West Bank.

The students of the West Bank are like no other. In a place where an intense political climate dictates where Palestininans can go, what they can do, and whether they can vote, the younger generations grasp the opportunity for education with everything they have. Education is both a right, and a privilege: in the UK, class attendance sits around 60%, whereas Palestinian students travel for hours between territories to make it to class, facing harsh Israeli military surveillance day in day out. Although all women only got the vote in 1965, there are still entire
populations who are unable to choose who leads them. This is likely why students on the West Bank take their ability to vote in student elections so seriously. Where our election participation rates sit around the 15% mark, a 60% voting turnout at Bethlehem University is seen as disappointing. Why are Liverpool students so reluctant to get involved? Are we asked so often to voice our opinion that it’s become futile? When did our right to voice our opinion become a chore? In many ways, the students over there are the exact same as over here. Except their ‘out-of-uni work’ consists of being part of groups fighting for their own social justice (which is deemed almost as terrorism in the eyes of the Israeli), visiting a friend means visiting the grave of a young person shot down by the military, and going home means walking a dirt track down to a refugee camp, where buildings sit unfinished. Still, nothing gets in the way of their University experience.

In the second half of the trip, we had the opportunity to stay with families in the West Bank. Days were spent cooking, baking and shopping, nights were spent cooking, watching action movies and going out with people my age - if anything, it’s great to see Jason Statham getting the worldwide recognition he deserves. As a woman, the notion of a gender gap within the home is a very foreign concept. I come from an all female household, in a society where it’s expected for me to get up, get a job, and be independent, there is no man to work for me - and I’m so grateful for it. Writing this and looking back on 3 days without this kind of independence puts into perspective how much I value the fact that I can do what I want, when I want, with  little to no repercussions. That being said, the sense of family reliance and closeness is beyond anything I’ve ever experienced, and reinforced the fact that ‘home’ is a feeling, not a place.

Whilst staying with these families, we were shown first-hand videos of the conflict faced by Palestinians daily, primarily of civilians being attacked in the streets unprovoked, being left with life-changing injuries, or worse. Even as we returned to the UK, the Dome of the Rock (an Islamic shrine located in Jerusalem) was subject to violence during the Holy month of Ramadan, as it is every year. Religion plays a monumental part in everyday life for many, and it is usually seen as a source of conflict, however it’s important to acknowledge when it brings people together too. The Church of the Holy Sepulchre for example, is a place of worship in the Christian Quarter of the Old City, however it is a Muslim family in charge of overseeing the opening and closing of the Church, due to disagreements between the other faiths. We must remember that faith and religion are not a separating force, although often used as a scapegoat when talking about Palestinian/Israeli conflict.

Leaving Palestine was difficult for many reasons. I’d bonded with people my age, shared stories, and made friends in such a small amount of time. I didn't think it was possible to learn so much in a week. On another level, if we had mentioned to anyone that we had visited the West Bank, we would probably have been arrested on the grounds of collusion with terrorists. It took a car, a train, a train, another train, and a plane to get back to the UK, and it didn’t help that the lovely security people at Tel Aviv kept running away with our passports. We were asked what religious holidays we celebrate, what languages we speak (I didn't think BSL or knowing what ‘library’ is in French were worth mentioning this time), and the names of my parents even came up at one point (shout-out to Rachel and Alex). Safe to say we eventually made it to the plane (with a whole fifteen minutes to spare).

This was not a religious trip, this was not a pilgrimage, however it sure was educational. This wasn’t an ‘us and them’ piece, and this wasn’t to brag, or to compare living situations, or even say ‘hey, look at the UK, we get on with everyone!’ (questionable). I admire every individual I met (and didn’t meet) in Palestine, especially the members of our equivalent Students’ Unions, who are fighting for matters so much bigger than we’ll ever see in the UK. The word ‘privilege’ means something different to me now.