Resistance Art: A ‘Free Gaza’-themed mural titled ‘Invasion Kills Children’ made by Palestinian artists on the walls of demolished houses in Deir al-Balah city in Gaza Photo: Getty Images Resistance Art: A ‘Free Gaza’-themed mural titled ‘Invasion Kills Children’ made by Palestinian artists on the walls of demolished houses in Deir al-Balah city in Gaza Photo: Getty Images

“Always pray for mejpwinner gaming, and do not forget me. I don’t want to be just another number on the news ticker. I am a story”— these were some of the last words of Mahasen Al-Khateeb, a renowned young artist and digital illustrator, who had been sharing her stories of resilience in the face of destruction in North Gaza. Al-Khateeb’s last uploaded digital artwork on Instagram was on Sha’ban al-Dalou—the 19-year-old who was filmed while being burnt alive in Deir el-Balah, when Israeli forces bombed the Al-Aqsa Martyrs Hospital complex in the late hours of October 13. Her page, otherwise filled with delightful images of hope, now had the gut-wrenching illustration of Sha’ban burning. On October 18—hours after this illustration was posted, captioned ‘We are burning’—Al-Khateeb was killed by an Israeli airstrike on her home in the Jabalia refugee camp in North Gaza.

This story was published as part of Outlook Magazine's 'War And Peace' issue, dated January 11, 2025. To read more stories from the Issue, click here.

www slot

Suhad Khatib, a prominent Palestinian artist based in Amman, Jordan, shares how she almost crossed paths with Al-Khateeb. “The indirect connections with artists from Gaza have left a true impact in my heart. One of them is with a Palestinian artist named Mahasen Al-Khateeb,” she says. “I didn’t know her in person but I used to follow her page. I knew her friends and they were working on an art workshop for youth in Gaza. They asked me if I would be interested in volunteering some time, and I agreed. They decided to put me in touch with this Palestinian woman in Falasteen who was going to plan the workshop. That woman happened to be Mahasen. In the same week that I was supposed to talk to Mahasen, she was martyred,” Khatib recounts. “When I was done with my book—which is about martyrs—a Gazan woman came to my studio. She knew Mahasen and was selling some of her works to support her family. I bought most of the works so that I could include them as gifts with my book. So that, everyone who buys my book also gets a gift from Mahasen,” she reminisces.

An Exiled Voice: ‘The Fifteenth Moon’ by Palestinian painter and filmmaker Suhad Khatib An Exiled Voice: ‘The Fifteenth Moon’ by Palestinian painter and filmmaker Suhad Khatib

Unlike Al-Khateeb, Khatib never got a chance to set foot in her homeland. Born in Oman, she has lived in exile across the globe all her life. While her father comes from Lyd, her mother belongs to a village near Tulkarm. “In 1948, my father had to walk for three days to survive a massacre when he was five years old. That was the last time my father ever saw Falasteen,” she says. She is referring to the Nakba, when Palestinian Arabs were violently displaced from their land, as Israel declared its independence.

The Aftermath Of Wars: Why Everlasting Peace Eludes The World

BY Amir Ali

For Khatib, art came to her as soon as she learned to hold a pen. When asked about the significance of art during a genocide, she wonders. “What does it mean to continue to paint during a genocide? It becomes a question like every other question: what does it mean to continue living your life during a genocide, to continue to drink a sip of water while your people are deprived of water? I don’t know.”

Diyala Zada, a Syrian-British artist based in Cairo, believes that art serves as a healing process and helps her grow stronger. “For me, creating art during a genocide is a way to express and relieve the intense emotions I feel about what’s happening. It’s also a means of preserving memories and sending messages to future generations,” she says. Like Khatib, Zada too has consistently been creating art that talks about Palestine. Being a children’s book illustrator, a lot of her illustrations are like children’s art—but no child must have to hear the stories they tell. Her work reflects the pain that stems from belonging to a war-torn homeland. When asked what she thinks about the current state of affairs in Syria, Zada says, “What I see now is the hope to rebuild our tired Syria after 50 years of oppression and the tyranny that destroyed humanity and dignity. I hope we can stay on the right path and overcome the lasting traces of this injustice.” She is aware that the wait will be long and the journey won’t be easy.

In Memory : Self portrait of Palestinian artist Mahasen Al-Khateeb, who was killed in North Gaza by an Israeli airstrike In Memory : Self portrait of Palestinian artist Mahasen Al-Khateeb, who was killed in North Gaza by an Israeli airstrike

Khatib and Zada are both part of a pool of artists, whose art has consistently talked about the ongoing massacre in Gaza at the hands of Israel. Their works are an important testament to the kind of stories that have been wiped out by Israel since October last year. Often, narrating these stories has come at great personal cost. “I dedicated my life, not just my work, to art. And for art to be worth giving your life to, it has to be art of meaning,” says Khatib. “It becomes a choice whether to allow people to silence you or just tell the story as is and leave it to those closest to you with the hope that one day, the world will find meaning in them, outside of all of the silencing and tyranny. I was fired from my job because of my work and I’ve lost friends. Some of my friends were killed, some were imprisoned and I’m in a constant state of exile. I had to move countries to be able to continue doing my work and continue to be a freethinker, to liberate myself, little by little, from the Empire,” she says. “But I learn from my family. When I ask my father about the massacres that they went through, and the extreme poverty they overcame after the Nakba in 1948, he says something that I hear a lot of Palestinians in Gaza say today: ‘What we went through is nothing when compared to what others went through.’ This is how we Palestinians move through life.”

Such cross-cultural conversations about Palestine and art are now finding a footing in India too. Small but steady groups of artists are coming together across the country to spread awareness about Gaza through their art. But the initiative doesn’t stop there. They are also pooling together their artworks to mobilise funds to help families in Gaza. Meghna Prakash, a poet who runs an Instagram page called ‘Artist Dialogue’, turned to mutual aid when she felt that raising funds single-handedly wasn’t sufficient. “Initially, I had been raising money myself for ten families in Gaza in the past year. I realised that it was really hard because the money was never consistent and barely enough to support the families,” she says. Given the drastic inflation in North Gaza, a family can sustain merely for two days with 150 US dollars. “The scale of the money needed was huge and we were barely scraping it. I felt like it wasn’t a feasible way to go forward. I know many incredibly talented people and it made sense for all of us to pool in our resources and do a mutual aid together.” Prakash and her friends have evolved a thorough process of verifying the Palestinian families they choose to aid. From vetting ID cards to conducting video calls and checking who handles their funding pages from other countries, the process is intended to ensure that donors can trust the initiative. “Many ofthe NGOs and grassroots organisations in Gaza are not reaching the families that I am in touch with. They’re completely reliant on Instagram, which has been censoring them by shadow banning their accounts and blocking them. It’s brutal because that’s the only way they can get access to any funds. We know that we have less capacity so we are just trying to help 10-11 families to get through the days and support them till they reach stability,” she says. Since October 10, she has been able to raise more than ten lakh rupees for ten Gazan families.

“It becomes a choice whether to allow people to silence you or just tell the story as is and leave it to those closest to you with the hope that one day, the world will find meaning in them.”

Being an artist has also helped Khatib forge new solidarities across the world. She describes the community around her as ‘Hadina’, which means ‘incubator’ in Arabic. “The kind of love and admiration I get from around the world, not just from Palestinians, is incredible. An artist in Sudan started telling me the stories of Sudanese murders. He studied them the way I do, because he was inspired by my studies. Someone sent me a little illustration this morning by their six-year-old niece, who drew me because she visited my studio once and was in awe of my work. I became one of her heroes apparently,” she says, joyfully. “It’s not just a connection for me but a conversation that has been going on between artists in Africa, in Asia and everything in between. My conversation with them is much more intellectually honest and I never feel like I am alone in this world.”

Odessa Files: A Ukrainian Journalist’s Account Of Living With War

BY Vineetha Mokkil

Neha Shetty, an illustrator who goes by the username ‘That Zany Martian’ on Instagram, is one of the contributors to ‘Artist Dialogue’. When asked how it occurred to her to use art to raise funds for Gaza, she says, “As an artist, one of my main purposes is to serve the collective. Because art and design have a way to go under the radar of algorithmic censorship, if done right, I thought it would be a great way to drive funds to help families, without having to go though the usual roadblocks that the non-art calls for funds were getting.” Pooling resources together has helped many budding artists in finding a way to contribute towards raising funds for Gaza. Paule, or ‘Madpaule Diaries’, thinks that most artists are not really good at raising funds independently, especially when it comes to art with dissent. That’s where a collective like ‘Artist Dialogue’ becomes crucial. Mitali Panganti, or ‘Moonclay_insta’ agrees. While attempting to raise funds on her own, Panganti encountered a lot of censorship on Instagram, which decreased the reach of her artwork among her followers. But being a part of the collective helped her showcase her art towards organising funds for Gazan families.

After a goalless first quarter, Korea struck just 36 seconds into the second quarter with Jungjun Lee finding the net due to a mistake from Pakistan goalkeeper Abdullah Ishtiyaq Khan. The goal remained the difference between the two teams till the half-time.

BY Outlook Sports Desk

Artists for Palestine, another budding collective on Instagram, also works towards bringing together digital artists and illustrators who wish to contribute in organising mutual aid for Gaza. When asked about what kind of future such an initiative can have, given the deteriorating situation in Gaza in the past year, they say, “The role of an artist is not just to highlight what’s important but also to instil a proactive approach to problems. Worsening of the situation, especially with the targeted attacks on organisations providing aid in Gaza, demands that we act in larger numbers than before. The collective aim is to inspire more people to act rather than lose hope.” Prakash also holds a similar view about the future of ‘Artist Dialogue’. “I don’t think an initiative like this can have an end game anytime soon. I know that once we have put these families to safety, there will be others in need. We will keep going till we need to keep going. We are trying to create a model that is replicable. We want as many people as possible to replicate this. I’m just talking about ten-eleven families, but there are thousands of families like this, who need mutual aid support. So, everyone needs to do their bit,” she says.

While financial support is the need of the hour, it is also imperative to ask whether art can disturb the status quo. Does art really have the power to outrage people enough to question their governments? Paule, whose work embodies significant political commentary, believes so. “Art records history like no politician or media can write. It gives power to the coming generations and becomes the language of people beyond borders,” he says. “Artists don’t sugarcoat or sensationalise. Instead, they hand over a mirror to the society and make them realise how each one of us is responsible for the chaos and injustice and how important it is to speak up,” he adds. Paule has been subjected toextensive censorship for his works, leading to a restricted reach and removal of posts for so-called violations by Instagram. The solution, he feels, is to work around the loopholes. Asked if his artistic style makes him vulnerable to State surveillance, he says, “Art and vulnerability go hand in hand. But we are humans and sometimes we cannot look away. People go through the worst during wars and genocides and when I think of that, everything else seems like a luxury. Governments should be answerable to us, not the other way round. How can anyone take away your right to live with dignity?”

Khatib, on the other hand, believes that art is often confused with propaganda. “I know that art has the power to change people and to document stories. But art is not propaganda. Propaganda has the power to outrage people against governments. What true art does is remind people of the need to resist oppression, not to be outraged,” she believes. “I think that’s why despite all of the assassinations, imprisonment and silencing, Palestinians have been able to birth real artists, who remind them of the need to resist, to remain, to exist in this world. Palestinian artists give humanity the meaning of art outside the dull peripheries of Western art—a lot of which has been governmental projects like Jackson Pollock. Palestinians still have artists like Ghassan Kanafani and Naji al-Ali, who remind humanity of the necessity of resistance.”

(This appeared in the print as 'Soul Of My Soul')jpwinner gaming