Self-Care in the Face of the Palestinian People’s Numbing Reality - Article

Self-Care in the Face of the Palestinian People’s Numbing Reality
By Hala Eid Al-Naji

"Resistance that cannot give life to its people—how can it deliver them freedom?"

The Emotional Distortion of War and Siege

Since 2007, following Hamas’s rise to power in Gaza, the Strip has been under a continuous siege that has affected every aspect of life. Coupled with five wars, the most recent in August 2023 claimed the lives of 46 Palestinians, a third of whom were children, according to the Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights.

During such wars, Palestinians often gather around local and international broadcasts, watching live coverage of the conflict. The names given to military operations by resistance factions, often drawn from Islamic history or Quranic verses, mix with headlines of missile launches targeting Israeli settlements near Gaza. Such news triggers a mix of emotions—jubilation at the sight of settlers fleeing to bomb shelters and a skewed sense of triumph.

However, this sense of "victory" raises unsettling questions. Why does the Palestinian narrative equate settlers seeking safety with cowardice? Are settlers expected to embrace incoming missiles as Palestinians do? This contradictory response reflects a distorted emotional state, where fear is suppressed, and acknowledging vulnerability is seen as a diminishment of self-worth.

This collective reaction stems from years of siege and accumulated trauma, which have drained the Palestinian psyche and eroded its social fabric. The protracted blockade, spanning over 15 years, has created a profound disconnect between Palestinians and the progression of their human needs. As Maslow's hierarchy illustrates, self-actualization is impossible without the fulfillment of basic needs, yet in Gaza, even food and water are scarce commodities.

The Cost of Emotional Denial

The siege has fostered an unhealthy culture of emotional suppression. Palestinians often overcompensate for their pain by celebrating it. Mothers ululate at their children’s funerals, children emulate stoic adults, and fathers refrain from crying to appear unshakable. This behavior, though culturally normalized, aligns with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), which manifests in suppressed emotions and later resurfaces as violence, anxiety, or other mental health challenges.

As American clinical psychologist Dr. Sabina Marro explains:

"The ongoing denial of trauma causes more suffering than the trauma itself. Survivors may suppress these unpleasant experiences, but their bodies and minds will carry the weight until the trauma is confronted."
This denial contributes to the rise in violence, divorce, and social strife in Gaza. According to the Palestinian Central Bureau of Statistics in 2022, the social violence rate in Gaza reached 41%, double that of the West Bank.

The Numbing Effect: A Manufactured Emotional High

In response to this suffering, Hamas leans heavily on rhetoric extolling patience and steadfastness as pathways to victory. Resistance, framed as a national duty, becomes a means of galvanizing public solidarity. Yet, public reactions reveal a growing frustration with a form of resistance that demands immense sacrifice but delivers little tangible relief.

This cycle produces what I term "the numbing effect." Resistance serves as a temporary anesthetic, creating fleeting feelings of pride, victory, and dignity. However, this euphoria dissipates quickly, leaving Palestinians to confront a harsher reality. The numbing effect manifests in the immediate aftermath of missile launches: initial elation fades as the siege’s tangible effects—power cuts, polluted water, unemployment, and isolation—resurface.

This dynamic recurs in a vicious cycle. Once the emotional high fades, negotiations for reconstruction and aid ensue, reducing Palestinians to bargaining chips for international donors. The results—meager aid coupons or small cash compensations—fail to restore dignity or alleviate the scars of trauma. Instead, they fuel deeper despair.

Resistance and the Ethics of Self-Care

Amid this cycle of exploitation and despair, it is vital to question the ethics of resistance. This is not a dismissal of resistance but a call to elevate its form to match the sacrifices of the Palestinian people. Michel Foucault’s philosophy on self-care resonates deeply here:

"The care of the self is not just a personal practice; it is a form of resistance."
Resistance must begin with valuing life and dignity. It requires a redefinition of heroism—where the tears of a grieving mother, the blood of a wounded child, and the soul of a martyr are seen as sacred. Without such self-worth, the world cannot recognize the legitimacy of Palestinian suffering or the justice of their cause.

Towards a Culture of Healing

The Israeli model of civil defense, often mocked by Palestinians, underscores the stark contrast between valuing life and accepting death. Israelis rush to bomb shelters at the sound of sirens, driven by a collective understanding of self-preservation. In contrast, Palestinians have internalized a skewed notion of bravery, associating survival instincts with cowardice. This dichotomy raises an uncomfortable question: does the rejection of self-preservation stem from a flawed understanding of heroism or a lack of self-care?

To heal, Palestinians must embrace self-worth as a cornerstone of resistance. Foucault reminds us that self-care is a prerequisite for ethical living. Resistance that prioritizes life over death transforms the individual into a work of art—a testament to resilience and a rejection of dehumanization.

By nurturing a culture of self-care, Palestinians can break free from the numbing cycle of temporary victories and enduring despair. Resistance, when rooted in self-preservation, becomes a pathway to reclaiming dignity and achieving true liberation.