#ramzy baroud

[houseofpurplestars]

No, we don’t worship the same God,

For mine walks barefoot through Jabaliya’s streets,

His wounds unhealed, bleeding into the earth

Staining his olive skin, marking him forever.

My God is the wail of mothers,

Bereaved in al-Mawasi,

Praying still for salvation,

Kissing the ashen faces of their dead children.

My God is two children,

Hauling their parents’ remains on a donkey cart,

Frantically seeking empty earth,

To bury their beloved before the soldiers return.

My God is courage, patience, justice—

The sumoud of a people

Whose spirits cannot be confined

To a headline or a scholar’s theory.

My God is the stubborn refugee girl,

Refusing to abandon her search for home,

Unyielding, despite the storm,

Her heart still yearning for the place she calls her own.

And above all,

My God is freedom—

A fire no power can quench,

A flame that cuts through oppression,

A light that guides the way.

My God is a Gaza refugee,

Fighting to free us all

From all the false idols

That keep us shackled in deafening silence.

Ramzy Baroud

[fuckyeahmarxismleninism]

Cost of the Ukraine war felt in Africa, Global South

By Ramzy Baroud

While international news headlines remain largely focused on the war in Ukraine, little attention is given to the horrific consequences of the war which are felt in many regions around the world. Even when these repercussions are discussed, disproportionate coverage is allocated to European countries, like Germany and Austria, due to their heavy reliance on Russian energy sources. The horrific scenario, however, awaits countries in the Global South which, unlike Germany, will not be able to eventually substitute Russian raw material from elsewhere. Countries like Tunisia, Sri Lanka and Ghana and numerous others, are facing serious food shortages in the short, medium and long term.

[sataniccapitalist]

Jerusalem: Al-Aqsa in the Sniper's Scope, with Lowkey and Dr. Ramzy Baroud

Lowkey talks to Dr. Ramzy Baroud about the growing violence and oppression being meted upon Palestanians, particularly in al-Aqsa Mosque.

[indizombie]

Call it a ‘quarantine,’ a ‘shelter-in-place,’ a ‘lockdown’ or a ‘curfew,’ we Palestinians have experienced them all, though not at all voluntarily. Personally, the first 23 years of my life were lived in virtual ‘lockdown. ’My father’s ‘quarantine’ was experienced much earlier, as did his father’s ‘shelter-in-place’ before him. They both died and were buried in Gaza’s cemeteries without ever experiencing true freedom outside of their refugee camp in Gaza... Since I was a child, I learned to listen intently to orders barked out by Israeli military officers as they swept through our refugee camp in Gaza declaring or easing military curfews. This ritual often happened late at night. “People of Nuseirat, per orders of the Israeli military you are now under curfew. Anyone who violates orders will be shot immediately,” the terrifying words, always communicated through a loudspeaker in broken Arabic, were a staple during the First Palestinian Uprising (Intifada) of 1987. The period between 1987 to 1993 was a virtual ‘lockdown.’ Thousands of people, mostly children, were killed for failing to respect the rules of their collective imprisonment.

Ramzy Baroud, 'A Palestinian Guide to Surviving a Quarantine', teleSUR

[houseofpurplestars]

"They used to come to the market and buy meat and vegetables. Poor things, they knew nothing about agriculture. So we helped them." - Um Adel, recounting her experience with Jewish settlers in Mandate Palestine, before 1948.

Quoted in "My Father Was A Freedom Fighter" by Ramzy Baroud

[indizombie]

Whether you are Muslim, Christian, Jewish, or any other faith; whether you are an atheist, agnostic, or practice any form of spirituality, philosophy or belief system, find comfort in your faith and beliefs. Since all mosques in our refugee camp were shut down, if not raided during a military curfew, the call for prayer, which we heard five times during each day, was permanently silenced. To keep the call for prayer going, we would sneak to the roof of our houses, carefully scan the area for any Israeli soldiers, and collectively make the call for prayer whenever it was required. Volunteers included my English teacher, who was communist and claimed that he did not believe in God, myself, and Nabil, the neighbor boy with the massive head and the most unpleasant voice. In curfews, we developed a different relationship with God: He became a personal and more intimate companion, as we often prayed in total darkness, whispered our verses so very cautiously as not to be heard by pesky soldiers. And, even those who hardly prayed before the curfew kept up with all five prayers during the lockdown.

Ramzy Baroud, 'A Palestinian Guide to Surviving a Quarantine', teleSUR

[indizombie]

If electricity is still available, then you still have the option of watching television. For us, Indian movies, especially those starring Amitabh Bachchan, were the number one option. Imagine my disappointment when our beloved movie star, who helped us through numerous military curfews in Gaza, was photographed grinning with right-wing Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu during the latter’s visit to India in 2018.

Ramzy Baroud, 'A Palestinian Guide to Surviving a Quarantine', teleSUR

[indizombie]

I hope that this COVID-19 quarantine will make us kinder to each other and will make us emerge from our homes better people, ready to take on global challenges while united in our common faith, collective pain and a renewed sense of love for our environment. And when it’s all over, think of Palestine, for her people have been ‘quarantined’ for 71 years and counting.

Ramzy Baroud, 'A Palestinian Guide to Surviving a Quarantine', teleSUR