e entire process” he emphasizes), to the fact that it’s located in a building that Saleh had already owned and mainly, he stresses, to the nature of the country it was opened in. “There are many democracies around the world, or countries claiming to be democracies, but there is none like the United States” he says. “Democracy is in the purest and truest sense, a country in which someone like me can set up a museum without needing to obtain special permits from anyone.”
All around, in an area spanning almost an entire floor, divided into many sections, 100 historical photos are proudly displayed, alongside paintings by some of the most prominent Palestinian artists. Another large gallery, devoted to drawings made by pupils from Gaza in 2009 after Operation Cast Lead, features the illustration of this bleeding conflict through the eyes of young children. “For a long time there were attempts to show these drawings in many galleries across the United States, but it was always canceled under pressure from Israel’s supporters, who feared [the drawings] showed Israel in a negative light,” he says. “These are children who for three weeks were under siege, subjected to bombardment from sea, air and land, suffering from serious trauma. These drawings were meant to enable them to express the pain they were subjected to, allowing them in this way to be liberated from this trauma.”
Other walls have paintings by Palestinian artists from Ramallah, Gaza, Jordan, Lebanon and other Arab states. “Every Palestinian carries a passport of another country” says Saleh in reference to the wanderings frequently imposed on his people. He quickly adds that this excludes the residents of Lebanese refugee camps. “Only they are refused,” he says. “Lebanon does not want to give them passports, not wishing to grant them any civic rights.”
There is also a big wall devoted to photographs taken by European tourists in mid-19th century Jerusalem, as well as one devoted to Rachel Corrie, the American activist killed in 2003 by an Israeli bulldozer as she was protesting the demolition of houses near the Gaza Strip. Her portrait can be seen above a bed of flowers, with an Israeli bulldozer moving towards her in the background. Saleh says that Corrie’s parents attended the museum’s opening last month. In a token act of sympathy, he presented them during the ceremony with a dollar bill, the amount of compensation the family has sought in the lawsuit they filed against Israel, which they demand take responsibility for her death.
There is also a large collage of photos, taken by Prof. Margaret Olin of Yale University. It shows graffiti from the Deheisheh refugee camp in the West Bank. Elsewhere, there is an Israeli army ammunition box filled with stones, “showing the asymmetry in the struggle between the two sides”, according to Saleh. “On one side Palestinian children throw stones at Israeli soldiers; on the other, Israeli soldiers shoot bullets at them,” he says.
One of the museum’s walls is dedicated to showing the life of the Palestinian community under the British Mandate. The photos show themes that repeat themselves in different versions. In one photo, a British policeman questions Palestinians at the entrance to Jerusalem’s Jaffa Gate. In another, a man is asked to show identification papers in the middle of a street. There are also photos from 1933 in which British soldiers are shown violently suppressing a Palestinian demonstration against the British Mandate and Jewish immigration to Mandate territory. “Back then they were doing what Israeli soldiers are doing these days, only [the British] were much more civilized and less violent,” he adds.
Not a platform for political debates
And yet, a similar photo of Israeli soldiers detaining Palestinians for a search will not be found in this museum. No photos of an Israeli tank or checkpoint are on display either, or of demolitions or any other sign of the current reality and the Palestinian struggle for independence. Saleh deliberately left them out since, he says, “anyone wishing to learn about the current si