When Books Are Confiscated, Words Travel Further

I recently had the immense privilege of attending a talk by Mahmoud Muna, a renowned Palestinian bookseller whose family has operated the Educational Bookshop in occupied East Jerusalem for generations. The event, hosted in collaboration with English PEN, a literary and human rights organisation, was both deeply moving and politically urgent.

Mahmoud’s presence in London was nothing short of remarkable. Just weeks earlier, on February 9th, 2024, Israeli police had arrested Mahmoud and his nephew, confiscating over 250 books from their shop. These books, many of which focused on Palestinian history and identity, were seized without transparent legal justification, raising grave concerns about censorship and cultural repression under occupation. As the event neared, many, including myself, doubted whether Mahmoud would be permitted to travel. Thankfully, he arrived safely, and the solidarity in the room was palpable.

The Educational Bookshop, internationally recognised as a hub for Palestinian thought and resistance literature, has long been a symbol of intellectual resilience. Its mission is not merely to sell books but to preserve and amplify Palestinian narratives in the face of erasure. The global reaction to Mahmoud’s arrest was swift and widespread; academics, activists, and literary communities condemned the raid as an attack on freedom of expression.

During the event, Mahmoud spoke about his life and work, including his recent co-edited book, Daybreak in Gaza, published by Saqi Books in partnership with Matthew Teller. The book brings together a collection of essays and reflections by Gazan writers and thinkers, offering firsthand perspectives on the ongoing humanitarian catastrophe in the region.

Mahmoud recounted the dehumanising experience of his arrest, sharing the chilling truth that what happened to him was only a small glimpse of the suffering endured by Palestinians daily. He emphasised that these moments of repression are not isolated but part of a broader system of structural violence, one that has reached genocidal proportions in Gaza.

For over two years, the world has witnessed the deliberate and systematic destruction of Palestinian life in Gaza, in what numerous international legal experts and human rights organisations have identified as acts of genocide. Entire families have been wiped out. Hospitals, schools, and refugee camps have been bombed. As of early 2024, more than 30,000 Palestinians, the majority of them women and children, have been killed according to United Nations reports. This is not merely a humanitarian crisis, it is an unfolding crime against humanity, committed in full view of the international community.

And yet, in the face of such overwhelming violence and despair, Mahmoud Muna travelled to London to speak, to bear witness, and to continue the sacred act of storytelling. His presence was an act of defiance and dignity. As attendees and more broadly as members of a global community, we must understand that this work does not stop with one event. It is our duty to amplify Palestinian voices, to read their stories, share their work, and uphold their right to cultural and political self-determination.

Supporting Palestinian authors, publishers, and bookstores is one tangible way to resist cultural erasure. Books like Daybreak in Gaza are more than literature, they are archives of lived experience, tools of resistance, and lifelines to the truth.

One sentence Mahmoud shared will stay with me forever: “Books save lives.” I couldn’t agree more. In times of darkness, literature becomes both witness and weapon, offering memory, dignity, and the possibility of justice. We owe it to those under siege not to look away and to make sure their stories are never silenced.