“What law?”
“My own law.”
“And the two other suits and the shirts? They’re not my size.”
“We’ll take them back to the shop and trade them for one for you and one for Hasan, or you will get your money back. It’s agreed.”
Perhaps Sadiq was exhausted. He said, “Okay. Good night, all.”
Abed leaned over Maryam and said in a loud voice, intending to wake her up: “Maryam, shall I carry you as I used to when you were little?”
She opened her eyes. “What happened about the project?”
45
By the Law
How can I describe the scene? I’m trying to recall it, yet I know it’s hard to describe — not because memory drops some things and adds others, or highlights some and pushes others into the background, but because what happened went beyond the words that were spoken. I write what was said in order to tell what happened, well aware that what I am describing is closer to a dream of something than it is to the thing itself. It’s as if it were a well of which we can see only the small amount that the bucket has scooped up. Tension? Yes, there was tension in the scene. Alarm? Perhaps. The relationship between the brothers was like a ship’s rope, thick, showing how firm it is when it’s pulled taut. Roles were reversed in the flash of an eye, and then were reversed again, and then a third time and a fourth. Which one was the older, then? Sadiq is fragile in his relationship with those he loves; it’s a natural thing, that’s how lovers are. Abed rushes ahead blindly, like an engine without a driver. Sadiq says, “I’m the eldest!” and he suddenly seems tyrannical. Then the wave of arrogance breaks when it hits the beach and becomes calm and tame, like the water in a stream. And Amin? He was present there, even if he did not appear, nor was his name mentioned. Was it a stormy session? Yes, but not sad; for when I was alone that night I cried, as if I had made peace with the world. As if it had accorded me what it had begrudged my mother.
Abed introduced his project with a long, expert speech about the back-and-forth contest taking place in Europe over internationally binding regulations. He said, “There is serious legal debate about the creation of an international court to punish individuals responsible for crimes of genocide or any crimes against humanity. There are groups actively pushing for this. Personally, I expect that in the next few years internationally binding regulations will appear, strengthening the Geneva Accords and the treaties concerning torture. This is in addition to the fact that the laws of some European states have clauses allowing that cases be brought against crimes not committed on their soil, in which the accused is not one of their citizens, and allowing the plaintiff to be an individual and not a state. And ….”
Sadiq interrupted him, “What does that have to with your project, Abed? What’s your project?”
“Have patience with me, Brother. Current regulations may not permit us to file suits, or else we haven’t studied these regulations enough to find the opening that would allow us to file suits. We have to prepare. Here’s the value of the project: I’ll sum it up for you now, in its essential elements.”
I nearly intervened. I wanted to say to Abed, what’s come over you, boy, do you believe that we can get our land back by bringing a suit before a European judge? But I said nothing. Sadiq said, “You’re nuts! You were one of the fedayeen, carrying arms. Why? Answer me, why?” He gave him no time to answer, but answered for him: “Because international law did not give you your rights, from the beginning to the end. No law or international society nor the United Nations guaranteed you the right of return, nor of reclaiming the lands occupied in ’67 or any right that had been usurped from you. How many resolutions were adopted by the United Nations? How many massacres occurred afterward? Was Israel punished, even once?”
“Our project rests on three bases: The first is the purely legal basis, which depends on studying the law in the various European countries, searching for openings we can use to file suits. The second is making a list with a number of potential suits, and providing the necessary evidence for them — documents, testimony, studies, etc. The third basis is the human element: contacting the injured parties in whose names claims might be made or who would accept the role of witnesses, and contacting lawyers. What I mean is the formation of two networks, a network of injured parties and another network of jurists, lawyers, and legal consultants. That’s a rough summary, since I don’t want to go on and on, or drown you in legal jargon.”
“Abed, are you dreaming? Or looking for work for yourself? Damn it, Brother, what you’re saying isn’t worthy of a young man like you, who knows the history of the Palestinian cause and the role of the international community in our disaster.” Sadiq looked at me, mocking, “Your son has been affected by the talk going around about disavowing violence and the possibility of solving our problem peacefully. Have you visited Egypt recently, or have you met Abu Ammar?”
Abed’s face reddened, and he raised his voice, “Shame on you, Sadiq. I’m talking seriously. If you’re interested, listen to the end, if not, I’ll leave tomorrow.”
“Neither your mother nor Maryam nor I have any part in this visit! If only out of respect for us say, ‘I’ll leave the day after tomorrow, and I’ll spend the day with you because I miss you!’ What’s happened to you, have you gone mad? Sometimes I’m tempted to kidnap you and bring you here to work and get married and live like the rest of God’s creation. Europe has made you lose your mind — no wife and no suitable work, you dress like a bum and hang a backpack over your shoulder. What’s happened to you?”
Abed jumped up. “Do you have anything to drink?”
“Yes.”
“Will you have a glass?”
“I will.”
Sadiq got up and brought the bottle of whiskey, two glasses, and ice cubes, and poured for himself and for his brother. Abed looked at me.
“Will you join us?”
I laughed. “No, thanks. Enjoy it.”
“I’ll illustrate it for you by two examples, one easier and apparently simpler, and the other more difficult and more complicated. We can file a suit, not now but in a few years, since I expect new legislation to be promulgated in a year or two. We can file a suit against those responsible for what happened in Sidon, for example: shelling the school and killing everyone in it, the destruction of the hospital with those in it, what they did in Ain al-Helwa. What’s needed? First, that we contact the injured parties and we inventory the damages: mass murder, imprisonment, torture, destruction of homes, etc. One or more people will file the suit on their own behalf or on behalf of themselves and others. So the second requirement is to contact those people, to listen to them, to identify those best suited to file the suit and who want to do that, and those best suited to testify as witnesses. We can contact the director of the school and get detailed testimony from him. We can go back to the man responsible for civil defense in the south; he has the reports of foreign reporters published in their newspapers at the time. We have the mass graves, including the one now at the basketball court in the school courtyard, covered by asphalt.
“Who will you file the suit against?”
“Against the Israeli defense minister and the chief of the general staff, and others as well.”
“But it was war.”
“It was an invasion. But neither war nor invasions allow massacres or shelling the houses of civilians or destroying hospitals on top of their patients or killing children in their schools. The conventions on the treatment of prisoners of war do not permit torturing or killing them. All of that happened in Sidon and Ain al-Helwa. We will have to study what happened, to work on the legal definitions, to research criminal legislation in European states that allow claims of this kind to be made.”