Al Oud, العود‎ (al-ʿūd) is an ancient musical instrument that until today remains one of the most popular instruments in the Arab world. For Palestinians, the oud is as much part of the collective identity as the olive tree. 

Below is an account from a participant of The Freedom Theatre’s ten-year anniversary celebrations in April. She is of Palestinian origin but has lived her entire life in the UK. She wanted to bring some of Palestine home to her son. The Israeli authorities did not approve.

“My father is from Jaffa, Palestine. My grandfather owned an orange plantation in Jaffa and was the only Arab to hold a license to export Jaffa oranges. I first visited Palestine in 2008 and was interrogated in Ben-Gurion airport for eight hours before I was allowed entry. I repeated the answers to the same questions over and over again. I couldn’t tell them who my great, great, grandfather and his wife were as I didn’t know. But these were the questions I was being asked. ‘Why are you here? Where are you staying? Where are you going? Who are you seeing? A complete file on all my family and our history, as far back as my knowledge would take me was recorded.

Once allowed in, I was able to visit my father’s house which still remains in the heart of Jaffa and is used as a holiday home by a German Jewish couple. I photographed the house and showed my father the photos on my return to London. He cried. This was the only time I’ve seen my father cry in my entire life. 

Coming to Jenin for The Freedom Theatre’s ten-year anniversary was my second visit to Palestine. I had the most amazing experience and this time I wanted to bring home something for my son that to me represented the beauty of Palestine. My son is six years old and really wants to learn an instrument. I thought the oud would be a perfect gift and wonderful way for us to experience my cultural origins whilst in London.  On my last day I travelled to a recommended shop in Ramallah and bought a lovely child’s oud for 800 NIS. It was a good quality acoustic oud which they kindly gave to me for a good price. They were so hospitable they wanted me to stay for coffee but I had to get a taxi to speed back to Jenin as my cousin was waiting for me there. The Jalame crossing was due to close and it was a race against time to get back to Israel before my flight home. I nearly didn’t make it back through the checkpoint as we were held for over an hour while my cousin’s car and all our belongings were searched and scanned for dust. I remember staring at the long line of Palestinians cueing to be x-rayed and feeling ever so guilty for allowing my cousin to pick me up and go through this humiliation.

When I made it back at my aunt’s house in Israel (Palestine ’48), my family commented on the oud’s quality and how my child would be ever so happy with it. I was told endlessly to be careful with it. Ouds are notoriously fragile. ‘Carry it like you carry your baby’, my cousin said repeatedly. I wrapped my shawl around it for further protection before putting it in its case. I then phoned my son and told him I had bought him a beautiful oud and would be returning home with it very soon.  He was ridiculously excited, as was I, for him.

But then at the airport, my excitement quickly turned to anxiety as Israeli officials questioned me about how I’d come about this oud. They scanned it and the rest of my luggage and kept me waiting for almost an hour before telling me a security marker had flagged from the scanners and they needed to do more checks on the oud. ‘What security markers?’ I asked. They told me they were not at liberty to say. ‘Okay. I’ll wait while you do your checks’, I said, using everything strength I had to remain calm as the young man waved my oud around and flung it down on the table with a thud. I winced innately and politely said through grit teeth ‘Please be careful. It’s a very fragile instrument.’ I then smiled. He gave a sheepish expression. The vacant look of child who had yet to experience the art of gentleness. 

‘I will wrap it carefully and send it back to you on the next flight out,’ he told me. 

I pleaded with him to let me take it home. ‘It has to go in hand luggage. It’s just too fragile. Please!’ I told him I could provide a receipt of where I had bought it from and that I didn’t understand what kind of threat a child’s instrument could be? I told him it was for my son and he would be heartbroken if I didn’t return with it. I knew I was fighting a hopeless battle. I felt this was a clear case of discrimination and an attempt to suppress Palestinian culture. But, there was a glimpse of empathy in this young man’s piercing blue eyes, when I become overwhelmed with emotion and fought to hold back my tears of frustration. He stared at me and I felt for a moment that he saw me as human being. For most Palestinians who are so far dehumanised by Israel, I recognised that this glimpse of normal human reactive behaviour would be an uncommon privilege. The normalisation of the master-slave paradigm hit me and I froze. 

At this point a female supervisor arrived with a thuggish demeanour.  In a last desperate attempt I showed them my son’s photo but was received with expressions of irritation. She refused to listen. She really didn’t care. When the young male soldier shuffled uncomfortably and said ‘I understand you must be upset – your property is being taken away,’ she quickly intervened. She barged him out of her way and looked at me dead and cold in the eyes and said ‘you are not taking this home. This is final.’ Then she shook her head at the younger male officer and stomped away.

When I arrived back home to London, my son was most upset that I didn’t have the oud but he had missed me so much that he accepted he had to wait for it to be delivered on the next flight out. I told him they made a mistake and they would deliver it to us soon. As six year olds do, he asked me every day when it would arrive. So when it did finally arrive, days later, after much chasing, and we opened it to find it broken –  the neck snapped from its body – my son burst into tears. He carefully lifted it out of its case and inspected it with considered sensitivity, naturally, as if  carrying a baby. ‘What happened to it mummy?’ He sobbed, tormented by my gift from Palestine. I told him it must have been damaged by accident on the plane. And in that moment the memory of my father burned in my mind. The image of him crying when he looked at my photos from my first visit in 2008; pictures of his home, taken away from him when he too was only just a boy.”

Extract from a letter from the Passenger Service Office of the Security Division at Ben Gurion Airport:

“Your letter was received at the Passenger Service Office of the Security Division and following a thorough investigation through the security shift reports of the day of your departure I would like to inform you as follows:

[…] The security check is conducted by means of technological equipment, the passenger’s luggage passes through the x-ray machines and when technological indications are received from the passenger’s luggage it will be checked manually by the security employees until they may be released to the flight. I must emphasize that we are unable to predict the length of the check and its nature as it is influenced directly from the number of indications received from the passenger’s luggage and their nature. This is the reason for which the security check differs from one passenger to another and even on different travels for the same passenger, both in the duration of the check and the type of inspected items.

According to the shift reports it appears that when you arrived with your OUD a technological indication was received from it and as its check could not be completed at the time it was decided upon an alternate procedure which takes longer and requires that the Oud be sent separately on the next available flight.

Our investigation has revealed that the Oud was retained on […]. It was handed over on […], following the alternate check, to the airline’s representative, who signed and confirmed receipt of the item intact. A further inquiry with the airline has revealed that the Oud was sent on board flight […].

We look forward to serving you again to your entire satisfaction on your next departures from Ben-Gurion Airport.”

 

EN