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After 1948

Memory, Motherhood, and Mornings in Jenin


A woman in a yellow dress sits in the doorway of a damaged concrete building in the Jenin refugee camp. Part of the structure is destroyed, exposing rubble and a large hole in the wall. She rests her hand against her face, looking outward, surrounded by debris and signs of conflict.

In revisiting Mornings in Jenin, The Parlor’s January book club selection, we return to a novel that is not only foundational to contemporary Palestinian literature but urgently relevant to the present moment. First published in 2006 and later expanded after its initial release, susan abulhawa’s sweeping family saga traces the intimate costs of displacement, occupation, and inherited grief across generations. As violence against Palestinians continues to escalate in real time, Mornings in Jenin resists historical distance, insisting that memory, witness, and moral clarity are not optional.

For January’s book club pick at The Parlor, we reflected on Mornings in Jenin by susan

abulhawa (the author spells her name in lowercase). Originally published in 2006 under the title The Scar of David, the novel was later heavily expanded after its initial publisher went out of business and reissued internationally in 2010 as the edition known today. Now, it is one of the most influential books regarding Palestine, being the first mainstream novel to explore life after the violent, Israeli-led displacement post-1948.


The novel traces four generations of Palestinian family, centering on Amal, who begins the

story as a young girl in the Jenin refugee camp. From early childhood, Amal’s life is shaped by the

ongoing violence of Zionism, which scars both her community and her sense of self. Again and again, she bears witness to profound loss, watching neighbors and family members die at the hands of Israel.


While Amal remains the novel’s emotional anchor, abulhawa weaves in additional storylines

that illuminate the broader implications of displacement and war. Amal’s brother, Ismael, is kidnapped by an Israeli soldier and raised as “David,” living a liminal existence between two families and never fully belonging to either. Amal’s mother, Dalia, slowly unravels after her husband’s likely death during the 1967 war. Later, when Amal becomes a mother herself, her daughter Sara, hungry to understand her family’s story as an American, repeatedly asks her, “Is this what it means to be Palestinian?"


While the scope of so many characters is daunting, abulhawa balances the narrative with great

success. The lyrical quality of this novel makes all these threads in the story converge in a rich tapestry of Palestinian life, each strand revealing a particular truth about existence. The great joys in the text, such as the love stories between Yousef and Fatima, and later Amal and Majid, are left tragically bare as a result of unimaginable violence. As a reader, one begins to anticipate great injustices, something abulhawa exposes in full, visceral truth. In a profound moment in the text, Fatima says to Amal, “Amal, I believe that most Americans do not love as we do. It is not for any inherent deficiency or superiority in them. They live in the safe, shallow, parts that rarely push human emotions into the depths where we dwell.” In this way, abulhawa suggests that what it means to be Palestinian is to live in the deepest reaches of the human experience.


Author susan abulhawa’s parents were Palestinian refugees during the Six-Day war of 1967, a

massacre that is directly touched on in the text. Born in 1970, abulhawa moved between Palestine, Kuwait, Jordan, and the United States, even spending time in an orphanage in Jerusalem from the age of 10-13. While Mornings in Jenin is a fictional account, many of the instances in Amal’s life were spurred by historical accounts and abulhawa’s lived experience. As a political activist and writer, abulhawa’s sees her life’s work as advocating for Palestine. In 2001, abulhawa founded the organization, “Playgrounds for Palestine,” a non-profit that stands in solidarity with Palestinian children, affirming their right to a childhood.


In 2024, abulhawa wrote an article about Gaza, which was commissioned by the Guardian US

for their Rise against fascism series. The piece was declined for publication after abulhawa refused to change her descriptor of Israel's action as a "holocaust.” Later, the article was released by Novara Media, which detailed the magnitude of what abulhawa witnessed after visiting the strip twice in one year. “Israel is committing the holocaust of our time,” abulhawa writes, “and it is doing it in full view of a seemingly indifferent world.”


In October of 2023, Israel began a military campaign in Palestine, leading to an estimated death

toll of between 194,768 to 511,824 (data derived from a study by susan abulhawa), and that number continues to grow by the day over 2 years later. While the holocaust of our time is accessible through more media than ever, it seems to have yet plunged into the hearts of the western world.


As we reflect on the profound text that is Mornings in Jenin, we have to apply it to the modern

context of our world. We cannot be numb to the atrocities against Palestine. We cannot be desensitized to the immoral ideologies that are used to commit violence.


susan abulhawa continues to write the stories of Palestine in her texts “My Voice Sought the

Wind (2013),” “The Blue Between Sky and Water (2015),” and “Against the Loveless World (2019).”

While these have been long-ignored histories, abulhawa uses her voice to shed both truth and a

desperate plea. Let us not be indifferent.

 
 
 

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