Alan Gignoux (2004), View of al-Nahr, currently Ben Ammi in Israel. Village remains with remnants of military activity in 1948.

Focusing on personal stories was a way of engaging al-Nakba first and foremost from a human perspective. This approach was not simply dictated by a desire on the part of the museum to represent the Palestinian experience in a depoliticized way, but was also consistent with my own views as the curator for the history and culture of the Middle East. Public awareness about the Middle East in the Netherlands often appears to be reduced to bare statistics – the numbers of dead, imprisoned and exiled – in addition to the usual portrayal of Middle Easterners appearing in crowds. By foregrounding personal experience in the exhibitions I curate, my intention is to enable visitors to connect to the Middle East, in this case Palestinians’ memories of 1948, in ways they do not expect. Building the exhibition around individual narratives was a way of weaving a complex, multilayered representation of this event in a manner that was not politically didactic. In this sense, the approach we adopted was, intentionally, far removed from the highly reductive portrayal of these issues in the Dutch media.

So how was the exhibition received? The three questions most frequently posed by journalists when I was interviewed about the exhibition are highly revealing about the way the museum’s hosting of this event was viewed in the Dutch press: Did you receive any complaints from the Jewish community? Where are you from? Why did you decide to make an exhibition that was so one-sided? It was this final question about one-sidedness, however, that came to dominate all debate and discussion about the show. I must have heard this phrase a hundred times over the course of the exhibition, and invariably it was the first question asked by journalists, but also by part of the audience. This question took me back to my memories of growing up in the Netherlands when Palestine barely registered in public consciousness, in the nation’s museums, or even in school textbooks. While preparing for the exhibition I unpacked my old school atlas (published in 1981) and there it was: a large map of Israel and a smaller inset showing the Jewish migration to the new state from 1948 onwards. Nothing to suggest the existence of Palestinians as a people – occupied or otherwise. To me, the Dutch perception of the region’s history then seemed so much more ‘one-sided’ than it is today.

My atlas underscored the seemingly natural alliance that has existed between Israel and the Netherlands. Burdened by tremendous guilt following the Holocaust (and justifiably so), the Dutch cheered when Israel conquered the West Bank, Gaza and East Jerusalem in 1967. During the 1973 war, Dutch students and factory workers donated blood and money to the Israeli troops, and for as long as I can remember Dutch news presenters have spoken of “Khaifa”, “Khezbollah” and “Khamas,” in heavy Israeli accents, as if they were they were broadcasting live from Tel Aviv. This began to change in the 1990s following the outbreak of the first intifada. From that point on, Palestinian experiences and viewpoints more frequently made it onto the news, although they were usually presented as secondary to the Israeli perspective and rarely accorded the same legitimacy. The first mention of al-Nakba in a Dutch newspaper occurred in 1998 on the occasion of the 50-year commemoration.

With this history in mind, it should come as no surprise that the press coverage of the Palestine 1948 exhibition focused almost exclusively on the museum’s unusual decision to present the events of 1948 entirely from the Palestinian perspective. This decision, journalists suggested, should be interpreted as a highly “controversial” move on the part of the museum, and might even be read as “a political statement” since it is well known that “Palestinians are an emotionally charged issue”. The fact that the reporter here refers to the Palestinians in the exhibition as an issue rather than different individuals indicates how Palestinians are generally viewed in the Dutch press. The fact, however, that the museum’s explanation – “We are presenting a virtually unknown story in a year when all eyes are on the 60-year celebration of Israel” – was commonly accepted, points to the turn in Dutch public opinion on the Palestine-Israel conflict. It is fair to say that that such an exhibition could not have been held ten years ago, and would have been a form of institutional suicide two or three decades ago.

One should not exaggerate the extent of this shift in public opinion, however, which remains limited. In preparing for the exhibition, the Tropenmuseum – a leading Dutch museum of world cultures which is generally seen as respectable and politically neutral – had to carefully navigate through the red lines. By foregrounding personal stories and experiences in Palestine 1948, and exhibiting the works in a setting of dignity and austerity, the museum consciously sought to distance itself from the fraught debates that rage on the Internet and in mainstream media. It deliberately presented the material in a way that did not seek to arrive at political conclusions, but rather invited visitors to reflect on the complexity of this event. However, even without the museum directly engaging in the political debate the visitors to the show knew exactly in which different broader contexts the exhibition could be understood.

Anticipating the discussion and debate that would be generated by the exhibition, the museum installed a digital guestbook on the exhibition floor where visitors could leave their feedback. Judging by the comments, for many visitors it was precisely the ‘one-sidedness’ of the exhibition that they found most compelling; it presented them with the opportunity to get acquainted with a story not widely discussed in the media. One visitor commented, “In 2008 the Palestinian view still receives too little attention in the Dutch media. This provides a useful counterbalance. Of course, it’s partial but partiality is unavoidable when it comes to this issue.” Another visitor wrote “How impressive. I don’t know all that much about Palestine, it’s always about Israel.” A number of visitors called for ‘balance’, arguing that the Palestinian narrative needed to be accompanied by an Israeli account on these events. On this particular question of balance, visitors’ opinions differed greatly; while many expressed relief that the Palestinian story was finally being told, others dismissed the exhibition as ‘a one-sided propaganda show’ because of the absence of Israeli voices.

For a better understanding of this question of ‘one-sidedness’ one need only look to the cultural event organised in conjunction with the 60-year anniversary of the State of Israel at the Jewish Historical Museum (JHM) in Amsterdam. The exhibition Art of the State featured sixteen Jewish Israeli artists, among them Yael Bartana and Pavel Wolberg whose works criticize Israel’s role in the conflict and the militarization of Israeli society. Remarkably enough, the comments in the JHM’s guestbook were opposite to those at the Tropenmuseum. While most visitors to the Tropenmuseum welcomed the choice for a Palestinian perspective, at the JHM visitors frequently complained of bias. Many regarded the JHM show’s to be ‘one-sided’, ‘anti-semitic’ and a ‘disgrace’. However, none arrived at this conclusion because of the absence of Palestinian artists, despite the fact that Palestinians now represent 20 per cent of Israel’s population. Just like the visitors who complained at the Tropenmuseum, they took the term one-sided to mean the absence of views consistent with those of the Israel State and Army. Ironically, the inclusion of such voices in the Palestine 1948 exhibition would have done little to advance a positive picture of Israel, since the official Israeli position either denies the Palestinians a place in pre-1948 history, or claims they left on their own accord.

This preoccupation with bias also played a central role in the lawsuit brought against the Tropenmuseum, which I mentioned at the outset, in which one visitor accused the museum of presenting a “one-sided view of history.” In his writ he claimed that “visitors to the exhibition are deliberately not informed about numerous historical events that led to a deterioration of the social climate to such an extent that the departure of the Arabs ultimately became desirable and even inevitable for all parties.” Consistent with this charge, the plaintiff demanded that the Tropenmuseum prominently display additional information in order to present a more ‘balanced’ view. Since presenting an incorrect or unbalanced view of history is not regarded as illegal under Dutch law, the plaintiff decided to reframe his official complaint, arguing instead that in its current form the exhibition would incite hatred against Jews.

The claims made against the Palestine 1948 exhibition were so far-fetched, that the reporter of a prominent Jewish weekly was surprised that the court took the case so seriously. On 21 July 2008, the judge organized a three-hour session in one of the chambers of the Tropenmuseum and visited the exhibition, giving both parties an opportunity to comment on items on the display. Three weeks later, he ruled that the exhibition was not offensive and did not advocate any form of discrimination or anti-Semitism, concluding that it did not infringe on the limits set on freedom of speech. The ruling underscored the Tropenmuseum’s right to present one historical perspective, but also the right of the visitors to challenge that particular interpretation. In his summative statement the judge went on to add that it was not up to the court to prescribe the right interpretation of history, and that it was not in the business of making exhibitions. What the ruling demonstrated was that the notion of ‘one-sidedness’ has no purchase in the legal sphere in the Netherlands, making advocates of an official Israeli narrative dependent on the willingness of cultural institutions like the Tropenmuseum to exercise self-censorship.

So why is it still important who says what exactly? The answer can be found in another question that frequently cropped up during press interviews – the one which addressed my background and identity as a Dutch Jordanian. Was the museum “urged by an Arab employee” to indulge in propaganda, as our opponent in court suggested in one newspaper article? “Does having an Arab background interfere with your capacity to remain objective?” was the rhetorical question asked by the reporter of the Jewish weekly mentioned above. In a country where the official Israeli narrative has long been dominant, it apparently does. The distrust of Palestinian voices is part of the same set of assumptions that lead to claims of ‘one-sidedness’. As the director of CIDI, a pro-Zionist organization and unofficial mouthpiece of Israel in the Netherlands, put it in an interview with a Christian newspaper, “With some generosity one could say that the museum presents a version of the facts as certain Palestinians have experienced them. But, then at least there should also be a counter-story and this is not the case. The lie is not being contradicted, while a museum’s duty is to tell the truth.” In a context where the official Israeli narrative is widely taken to be the normative frame for understanding the history of this conflict, by definition the Palestinian narrative can only serve as a sideshow: it lacks legitimacy and is barely audible from the margins. What follows from this, however, is that the museum’s decision to give Palestinians ample space to recount their own history on their own terms was, in itself, an intrinsically political move.

When the Tropenmuseum’s director was given the opportunity to respond to some of the charges being leveled in the same Jewish weekly he expressed a willingness to accept the label of one-sided if this meant that, “we can exclusively present the stories of the older generation of Palestinians. That indeed is our choice.” Again, he reiterated that this should not, however, be interpreted as the museum taking sides in the conflict. This response clearly annoyed his interviewer: “The fact that it’s a question which is very relevant to our times does make it even more complex. The discussions prompted by the exhibition, slip almost unnoticed, into the question of whether Palestinian refugees should have the right to return to Israel.”

Interestingly, the comments left behind in the exhibition guestbook suggest that discussions about the right of return were, in fact, sparked by Palestine 1948. One visitor noted about the founding of the State of Israel that he considered it outrageous “To claim a country based on fiction! It’s the highest time to implement the UN Resolutions [calling for a return of the Palestinian refugees].” Another visitor wrote that, “As an American, I am repulsed by the historical crimes with which my government is complicit. This is an excellent exhibition; one wishes that it were possible to host such a display in the US.” Other visitors called on the Dutch government or the EU to take action, like “an empathizing Dutchman” who called on Europeans to “Please help the Palestinians to live a peaceful life in their native country. We cannot tolerate this.”

Several weeks after the closure of the Palestine 1948 exhibition, this debate shifted into the nation’s political arena when Dutch Integration Minister, Eberhard van der Laan, called on Muslims to attend Holland’s Auschwitz memorial event. Van der Laan, who before becoming minister had been the Tropenmuseum’s lawyer during the lawsuit about the exhibition, described his experiences in a speech about the social tensions in the Netherlands during the invasion of Gaza that began on 27th December 2008. In the course of conversations with Dutch Muslims, van der Laan noted how they felt let down by the fact that the Dutch government had denied Israeli human rights violations in Gaza. For its part, the Jewish community had expressed concern about the impact that the Middle East conflict would have in the Netherlands, fearing a rise in anti-semitic attacks. Citing his experiences during the Tropenmuseum’s court case, van der Laan told his audience that just as Arabs should acknowledge the Holocaust, so too must Jews understand what al-Nakba means for Palestinians. He added, “We can only face up to the effects of the Palestinian-Israeli conflict in our country by engaging in dialogue and showing compassion with one another’s pain.” Such encounters in dialogue indeed took place on the exhibition floor, for instance, when a Teachers’ Training College from West Jerusalem, represented by students and teachers of both Jewish and Palestinian descent, visited the museum.During the course of the emotionally charged visit, with students from both groups bursting into tears, they acknowledged that in Israel it would have been impossible to talk about these painful events of their shared history.

Van der Laan became the first Dutch Minister to speak about al-Nakba in these terms, although he seemed to imply that it was an issue of import solely for Jewish and Muslim communities in the Netherlands. Judging by the reactions of visitors to the Palestine 1948 exhibition, however, it seems that many would disagree with this position. A number of visitors observed that al-Nakba should be understood to be part of a history which involves Europe as well as the Middle East, noting that the Palestinian-Israeli conflict is one in which the international community bears much responsibility.

As for the Tropenmuseum, rarely it has seen an exhibition raising such controversy. The lawsuit and other reactions illustrate the deep divisions in Dutch society when it comes to how Israel and Palestine are presented. Throughout the course of Palestine 1948 the museum had to navigate the parameters set by public debate. The museum’s initial choice to distance itself from the hardcore political discussions was in itself a political move. By doing so, it created the discursive space to sideline the official Israeli narrative of the events of 1948, and focus on a lesser known and more pressing narrative; the individual stories and experiences of Palestinians.We realized that only by virtue of the absence of the official Israeli position could meaningful discussion and encounters occur. The continuous negotiations with visitors during the course of the exhibition revealed how the conflicting demands of different interests can affect museum practice, even if the museum claims to distance itself from politics. Only by mastering the art of being apolitical was the Tropenmuseum able to serve as a platform for the ongoing discussions about the Palestinian experience in the Netherlands.