Peace upon you Um Al-Zeinat

I come from the white hummock upon which God will establish his throne on the Judgment Day, and call humans to account. With these words that are unique in their pride and glory, my father described his hometown Um Al-Zeinat , words I had heard during my childhood and that have been inscribed ever since in my heart, mind and conscience… It is true that when I heard those words from my father I said that they were almost blasphemous—since my father (or at least I thought so back then) had exaggerated in describing his town to the extent that he considered it a piece of Heaven and the Great Paradise—yet after I grew up and visited the ruins of the town – I was astounded by its beauty and fascinating landscape: My father was right..!! Um Al-Zeinat is Heaven itself. It has the lofty Mount Carmel- and what do you know about Mount Carmel..!! It has the forests and woods, fountains and wells—there is the open plain, clear of even pebbles. There is the wilderness and the olive groves ... A village that lay on the foot of Mount Carmel like a fortress, overlooking the Mediterranean on one side, and Marj Ibn Amer plain on the other side. Its land stretches out like the palm of the hand into Al-Rawha plain, producing wheat, legumes, and maize, in addition to the produce of its mountainous lands, mainly olives, as well as all the fruits that you may crave, such as figs, pomegranates, grapes and cactus…Um Al-Zeinat was only 17 km away from the enchanting Haifa, towards the South- East. It was bordering the villages of Ijzim and Carmel woods to the West, the Druze village of Daliya as well as Carmel woods to the North, Wad Al-Milh (Salt Valley) and Marj Ibn Amer to the East, and Al-Rihaniya village and Al-Rawha plain to the South … Um Al-Zeinat was a simple and quiet village whose population did not exceed 1750 persons in 1948. Its people were real peasants, tough and diligent farmers who loved their land just like they loved their children. They never gave up even one foot of their land; neither did they ever sell one grain of soil to the conquerors or collaborators. It was a gentle but well-fortified village, and so it earned the designation given to it by the prominent Palestinian revolutionary Abu Durrah: the Safe Town. Indeed, it was a safe haven for the revolutionaries fighting against the British Mandate, and for those who resisted the Jewish settlement march. British occupiers failed to arrest any of the revolutionaries inside the town, although it was famous for being a major rear base for the revolutionaries, a fact that incidents of the battle of Umm Al-Daraj confirmed.

 

I entered the village for the first time accompanying my father, who explained to me about all its features—its fresh water wells,-- Kabir Al-Harames, Bir al-Natef and Bir Shamhuresh—and its water springs, such as Al-Bouaida, Ein Al-Safsafeh, Ein Al-Shammalat, and Ein Al-Shaqaq, Ein Al-Haj, Al-Olaiqa springs and Wad Abu Nimer... He took me to its old antiquities in order to assert to me its originality and deep-rooted history. He showed me the Nawamees Caverns, and Al-Mu’allaqa Cavern, insisting that I walk on foot into most of the plots of land whose names he still memorized, just like he memorized our names, his own sons… He took me to Juret Al-Bir, Al-Batihi and Haj Hassan, Khillet Al-Jaj, Bakkar, Misrara, Wad Al-Milh, Jirmasha, Al-Mathba’a , Dra’a Nijem, Khillet Al-Tineh,Wa’aret Al-Zaytoun, Al-Mill, Khillet Al-Zarad, Al-Maqshour, Um Al-Qudoor Abu Al- Wawiyyat and Um Al-Sahali… He took me to the Western and the Eastern threshing floors, where weddings and celebrations were held, and cheerful evenings were spent. He took me to the location of the town mosque, school and the two graveyards- the old one, where my great grand father Mohammad Al-Hamad lay to rest, and the new graveyard too…He told me about the locations of houses. Here is our old house (The Sobhs place), and there is the Bishers’ place; here is Al-Marah quarters, where the Fahamneh family used to live, and here is Abu Khalil’s place, Abu Hassan’s place, Sheikh Yousef’s place, Al-Hardan, Al-Khatib , Salameh, Abu Tarboush and Al-Bayyari houses.. He did not forget Abu Hanna’s house, the only Christian in village, who was a shoemaker, tailor, doctor and shop owner.

My father loves Um Al-Zeinat, even adores Um Al-Zeinat-- its land and people—in a manner I have never witnessed throughout my entire life- to the extent that during our walk in its ruins, he identified the houses (that had been totally wiped off by the Jewish conquerors during the late seventies of last century... He would recognize them from the olive, fig, pomegranate and cactus trees that are still alive until the present day, despite all the Zionist aggressors’ attempts to efface all what is Arab in town…My father would pause at each house to remember with a sigh and say: this is the house of so and so, whose wife was so and so, whose children had such and such names, and who currently live in this country or that… and despite my father’s old age, he never tired of roaming in town, spending hours and hours wandering in its old streets, as if he was looking for something he had forgotten there upon his last exodus from town. And when it was time for us to go back, he would get into the car unwillingly, as if he was telling us: leave me in my hometown, and go back to your Camp...

 

We, the second generation of the exodus, and due to our immense attachment to our original homeland, every year we organize regular group trips of pilgrimage there, especially on 15 May, the Day of Al-Nakbeh, the day which means a lot to us, when Zionists forced us to leave our homes, livelihood and property, to become ever since then homeless and displaced, called refugees, and become a figure in the UN and UNRWA records… I asked my father once: why did you leave your town? Why did you not defend it? He answered me with sorrow filling his heart: We did all we could and resisted by all our means, but our weapons were simple and scarce, and we were not well-trained in comparison with the Jews who were better trained and who possessed modern British weapons… Despite all that we only left our homeland after the Haganah killed a number of persons from our town, and detonated a large number of houses---

 

Anecdotes of refuge continued to echo in our ears, and still do until the present day, and we make sure that the legacy is passed on, like a trust, to our sons, and inherited from one generation to another. My father, Abu Atef, may peace be upon his soul, died in 1986, never putting behind him the story of Um Al-Zeinat and the people of Um Al-Zeinat .His will was to move his body and the body of another close friend of his (Daoud Al-Khaled) to Um Al-Zeinat, when we return to it after liberating it from the conquerors.

 

Peace on you Um Al-Zeinat… Peace upon your hilltops, your green meadows and clear springs, such as Ein Al-Deek spring. Peace on your people who are dispersed all over the World, who dream of returning to their land and their fathers’ and grand fathers’ land one day.. no matter how long it may take and how remote distances may be.

 

Khaled Mansour

Al-Fara’a Refugee Camp, Palestine, 10 May 2005.