"We Can't Let the Fuckers Get Us Down"
Forever Magazine x Soho Reading Series in NY fundraise for the Red Crescent
🍹 Read Day 7/8 of the Basel Diary Series here 🍹
🚗 Read Day 5 of the Basel Diary here 🚗
🍔 Read Day 4 of the Basel Diary here 🍔
After two sold-out fundraisers for Medical Aid for Palestinians in London, and with a fundraiser for Palestine on June 20 in New York (with Forever Magazine) ahead, Tom Willis of Soho Reading Series asked three contributors to the Soho Reading Series about what it means to mix literature and fundraising.
Tom Willis: What’s the difference between meeting in person and online activism for Palestine?
Olivia Sudjic: Entering a crowd of strangers who have carried the same feeling of insanity for months, toggling between horrors in Gaza and daily life, is both restorative and galvanising. A reminder that solidarity isn’t simply a duty but a pleasure.
Rachel Connolly: Online spaces only afford people a very stunted means with which to express themselves. They are designed to foster arguments because this drives engagement and increases the time we spend on social media platforms. Often I see people dragged into arguing about things they basically agree on because of the way social media is designed. It can be useful to share information online but you probably notice the more time you spend on your phone in a day, the worse you feel. Meeting in person, with likeminded people, is a fundamentally much more enriching experience.
Selma Dabbagh: For those of us observing the unfolding genocide, the distress lands with us on many human strata. There is firstly the revulsion, horror and fury at what we are seeing. There is a sense of powerlessness, however misplaced, at what can be done to stop current events, and there is also a profound sense of disillusionment with the political system in “the West.” Most of us grew up believing, to varying degrees, that there were codified “red lines” to not be crossed, whether it was in relation to the environment or international justice. We are now looking at, according to the world’s highest courts — the International Court of Justice and the International Criminal Court — a plausible case of genocide and war crimes. The UK, US and European governments are not only meeting with the alleged perpetrators, but they are refusing calls for a ceasefire. Our votes count for nothing on this front. International law is being trashed by the governments who are legally obligated to support it.
It’s a headfuck on every level, and the connotations are vast. What does this mean for our ability to come together to mitigate climate change, or to prevent the arms industries testing their weapons on defenceless populations, most of whom are children? What kind of humans are we? What future do we, or our children, have? Most of us go into our darkest places, on our own, at home, staring at a social media feed (which, by the way, is increasingly being censored) and not knowing which posts to trust. We need to find each other in communal spaces to build up our connections through basic human interactions and restore our faith. I believe we are at a juncture when we can see Gaza and Palestine as a pivotal points that may serve to reframe the narrative for our future.
Tom Willis: What is it like reading work at a Palestine fundraiser?
Rachel Connolly: One of the strangest things about the genocide is the fact that if you were an alien who came to earth, in certain environments, you would have no idea it is happening. There is so much denial of reality. It is maddening. These spaces feel like the opposite.
There is a variety to the kind of work people read. I have read work by the Palestinian writer Adania Shibli at a fundraiser I helped organise, which we themed around conflict. At others which had no explicit theme, I read some of my own work. I have come to think the variety is important because it doesn't create the aura of the genocide as something happening separate to “real” life.
There is something useful about hearing all these things together. This is the fabric of the world we live in.
Tom Willis: What are benefits of reading writing?
Selma Dabbagh: It’s fun, it’s raw, it’s transportive. Whether experienced and a known name, or unpublished and young, you have an equal shot at getting your writing to work in front of an audience, of forming that intimate bond with them through words. It shows off the ability to create, to take risks. For potential writers in the audience who do not even dare to see themselves as such, it is the chance to feel out how your voice could work in such a setting. Maybe one day you will dare, maybe one day you will be considered great, maybe one day you will fail! Who cares? It always sets something free. Resistance, to my mind, is partly about cracking through thresholds of fear.
Tom Willis: What does it feel like at the readings?
Rachel Connolly: Friendly. A sense of relief at being in a space with people who aren't pretending this is not happening.
Olivia Sudjic: The atmosphere is febrile and poignant and kind of sticky.
Selma Dabbagh: Electric. Messy. Forgiving. Communal. Loving. Lovely. The energies we need tap into to build the forces for real, sustainable change. We can’t let the fuckers get us down.
Curatorial Affairs supports the aims of the Red Crescent/Red Cross. Contributors’ comments have remained unedited for content.