| Art in the Time of War
The continuous violation of human rights and the Palestinian people's right to self-determination has profoundly shaped both their collective spirit and artistic production. Art has become an essential vehicle to express resilience, preserve memory, and give voice to an unyielding struggle. The past sixteen months have been devastating—materially, psychologically, and spiritually.
Until the partition of Palestine in 1948, Palestinian artists were largely self-taught. They painted landscapes and religious scenes, often imitating European styles. There were no exhibitions. A distinct awareness of Palestinian art and identity was reinforced after the Nakba (catastrophe). Over time, a powerful iconography emerged: the key (the right of return), the horse (revolution), the flute (the sound of resistance), the sun (freedom), the weapon with the dove (the peace that would come after liberation), the olive tree (resilience, health, ancestral ties, and collective identity). The cactus—once used to mark boundaries—came to symbolize both national identity and exile. The watermelon, bearing the colors of the Palestinian flag, which was banned after 1967, still appears as a quiet act of defiance.
In the 1970s and 1980s, in the absence of official galleries, Palestinian artists displayed their work in schools, churches, and town halls. These exhibitions not only attracted the local community but also the attention of the occupying authorities, who recognized the subversive power of art as a form of resistance. The New Vision collective, founded in 1987 during the First Intifada (1987–1993) by artists Nabil Anani, Vera Tamari, Tayseer Barakat, and Sliman Mansour, played a pivotal role in the evolution of Palestinian art. Their approach not only challenged traditional representations but also reimagined Palestinian visual culture by incorporating contemporary elements that reflected the struggles and aspirations of their people. They also embraced the use of local materials as a strategy of cultural and economic resistance against dependence on Israeli supplies.
After the First Intifada, Palestinian art underwent a profound transformation. A new wave of visual production emerged—one that mirrored the harsh realities of occupation, the fight for self-determination, and the assertion of national identity. Women, long marginalized in the artistic field, began to take on more visible and prominent roles, both in protests and in the arts.
In 2000, the Palestinian Museum in Birzeit (Ramallah) opened its doors, becoming a major platform for dissemination and artistic engagement. In 2017, it inaugurated This Is Not an Exhibition, featuring works by over 100 artists. The aim was to question and confront the relationship between art and politics, challenging the traditional notion of “exhibition” within the Palestinian context. The exhibition remains open to the public.
Gaza: The Right to Live in Peace
Palestinian artists have been prolific in sharing their work on social media platforms such as Facebook and Instagram. It is through these digital spaces that I have connected with the artists participating in the project Gaza: The Right to Live in Peace, which began in January 2024. Below are the stories and reflections of some of the artists who responded to the call.
Abed Abdi (Haifa, 1942) was born while Palestine was under British Mandate. In 1948, he was forced to seek refuge in Lebanon and later in refugee camps in Syria. He returned to Haifa in 1952 thanks to the United Nations’ Family Reunification Program—one of the few Palestinians permitted to return. He studied at the Academy of Fine Arts in Dresden. His extensive body of work reveals a constant search for new techniques and forms of expression, reflecting his deep commitment to innovation and artistic evolution. Abdi’s works are held in the British Museum in London and in museums and galleries across Europe and the Middle East.
Regarding the current situation, he states:
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"My artistic orientation and working method are focused on awakening solidarity and highlighting the human dimension of this situation—with full awareness of the need to draw on collective wisdom to promote a peaceful solution This solution must guarantee peace among the peoples of the region and the establishment of a Palestinian state."
Maisara Baroud (Gaza, 1976) experiments with various materials and formats. His Still Alive series documents the events of the past fifteen months—events he has both witnessed and endured. The series, composed of clean, defined line drawings, evokes the hand of Matisse. Reproductions from Still Alive were included in the exhibition Strangers in Their Own Country at the most recent Venice Biennale. Baroud studied art in Nablus, in the West Bank, and later completed postgraduate studies in Cairo. He has exhibited his work in China, India, and Jordan. The Israeli invasion marked a profound turning point in his life and artistic practice:
—"The airstrikes destroyed my office on the second day of the war, and the next day they razed my home and my studio. I was displaced overnight. I lost my shelter and my safe space. The planes destroyed my small dreams, my production, my artistic experiments, my collections, and my personal library. I had to flee and seek refuge more than fifteen times. I had always been dedicated to documenting the Nakba and the Palestinian struggle, but these events brought with them a deep sorrow and an additional tragedy that affected me beyond words. I was forced to make difficult decisions to ensure my family’s safety. We lost friends and loved ones, and our daily life became a constant struggle—from securing basic needs to holding on to hope amid the devastation.”
Sohail Salem (Gaza, 1974) experiments with a variety of techniques and materials, including both new and discarded objects. He has participated in artist residencies in Amman, Geneva, and Paris, and has taken part in numerous exhibitions, including Under Fire at Darat al-Funun in Amman (2024), alongside other artists from Gaza. The exhibition featured works documenting the brutality of war and the massacres. He was displaced by Israeli forces to Deir al-Balah. During this time, he worked on a series of drawings created with a ballpoint pen in a lined notebook.
He describes his work as follows:
—"I’m drawn to fine, successive touches of color—a vision I consider a direct expression of myself and my surroundings. My subjects are simple and intimate, built from human figures and still lifes. I consciously use alteration and distortion to reflect inner, personal tension. I try to visualize a synthesis of feelings, internal movement, and the anxiety I experience. It is a psychological expression of how I see life and society."
Mohammed Alhaj (Libya, 1982) returned to Palestine with his parents in 1995, following the establishment of the Palestinian National Authority. They settled in the Nuseirat refugee camp. He studied art at Al-Aqsa University in Gaza. His artistic influences come primarily from national artists. Much of his work was destroyed in Israeli attacks. During his displacement, he created the series Diary of a Displaced Palestinian Under the Shadow of War and Genocide. Copies of the series were included in the exhibition Strangers in Their Own Country at the most recent Venice Biennale.
Regarding the current situation, he states:
—“October 7 disrupted the life of every Palestinian. I’m not exaggerating when I say that what happened was even greater and more terrible than the Nakba of 1948. No one imagined the war would last this long. It affected me deeply because my family and I were displaced from our home in Gaza City to the Nuseirat camp. Then we spent three months in the Khan Younis camp before returning to Nuseirat, where we remain. It was a harrowing experience—physically and spiritually. Beyond the collapse of the social fabric, we suffered from extreme shortages of food and water. My artistic work took on a new meaning. The drawings and sketches I produced during this time meaningfully reflect the life of the displaced Palestinian, capturing some of the immense suffering we have endured. It has been an incredibly painful process, especially because my studio was destroyed.”
Osama Hussen(Khan Younis, 1997) is a self-taught artist shaped through the influence of fellow artists. His main medium is drawing, and his recurring themes are life in Gaza, resistance, and Palestinian identity. With great skill, he explores the human figure, which in some of his images appears to carry “the city” on its shoulders. He has participated in several group exhibitions outside Gaza, including in Bahrain, Italy, Mexico, and the United States.
Hussen also speaks of his displacement:
— "I have witnessed several wars in Gaza, but this one has been especially devastating—marked by extreme violence, bloodshed, and an unbearable number of victims. Each night, we sleep to the sound of explosions and rockets, which seem to strike our hearts before they even hit our homes. Waking up every morning to the news of the martyrdom of a loved one has become a routine of constant suffering. Our days revolve around the struggle to obtain food and water—a task that is now nearly impossible due to both scarcity and soaring prices. My family and I have been displaced three times, finally arriving at an aunt’s house in Rafah. My small studio was completely destroyed during the war. The only thing I long for now is to survive—together with my family, and with my art.”
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