Dina Al-Amood | Staff Writer
On the first day of AUB’s Palestine Week, a theatrical performance of ‘Qoum Yaba’ was held in West Hall’s Bathish Auditorium. To perform his rendition of the play, Kassem Istanbouli was hosted by the University for Seniors club, a club designed for AUB graduates 50 years of age and older to stay intellectually stimulated and socially engaged.
For context, Kassem Istanbouli is a Lebanese actor and director who played a leading role in reviving Tyre’s cinemas, art houses, and theaters, which previously held artistic movements led by the most prominent Lebanese and Arab artistic names. Istanbouli began to perform this play when he was a theater student at the Lebanese University in support of Palestinian following the 2008 Gaza war. The play was held both at the university and in Tyre’s street spaces.
On March 4th of 2024, Istanbouli brought this play to Beirut in solidarity with Palestinians under the ongoing military aggressions on Gaza. The monodrama, designed to be acted by a single person, was written by the druze Palestinian writer Salman Natour. The scenography pictured below is credited to Anna Sendero Alferez. The story weaves together a tapestry of documented stories from Palestinian voices spanning different generations. These narratives unveil the enduring tragedies and perspectives of the Palestinian people from pre-1948 to the present day.
Through emotional and authentic anecdotes, Istanbouli carves the Palestinian plight into the collective conscience, particularly highlighting the ongoing suffering in Gaza. The performance unfolds with a father’s entrance, loaded with symbolic items—a travel bag, keffiyeh, and cane—evoking a sense of journey and heritage. The father, Abu Mohammed, unpacks his bag to reveal his son, a fabric doll, who becomes the focal point of the narrative. He rests him on one corner of the stage and the play’s journey begins.
Abu Mohammed recounts his life story, “I was born during the Nakba of 1948, entered school during the Suez War, secondary school during the June War, got married in the October War, had a son in the Litani War, and watched my grandfather die in the Gulf War.”
As his storytelling navigates the bittersweet memories of Olives and Thyme, he pauses time and time over to wake up his son for school. Through the character’s anecdotes, the audience uncovers the heartbreaking truth: Mohammed is dead. In fact, the play’s title “Qoum Yaba” or “Wake up dad” in english is a phrase Abu Mohammed continuously repeats in desperate denial of his loss. This state continues to accompany him until a concluding moment of acceptance at the end of the show, “Mat il walad!” or “My son is dead!” The realization sends him into a literal spiral, pictured below. He screams, “there is no bread, there is no woman, the boy is gone!”
The stories Istanbouli recounts about his family and friends, with his spot-on Palestinian accent, are united by a singular concern: the Palestinian struggle. They culminate to portray Palestinians as a people deprived of happiness and loaded with collective trauma, yet resilient and embracing life.
Despite the heavy subject matter, Istanbouli does not shy away from breaking the fourth wall to break the room into laughter. The actor-director called out a lady using her phone during the act, “Leave Whatsapp Khalto!” He stopped his monologue mid-sentence whenever anyone came in late, shouting “Lah Bakeer…” The subjects of these jokes laughed along with the rest of the room even if they were embarrassed. But the crowd work was part of the play’s narrative as well. Istanbouli called on the audience to sing along to the Palestinian folk songs and imitate the sound of a beeping school bus coming to pick Mohammed up.
As the curtains drew to a close, the room erupted into a standing ovation for Kassem. This outpouring of applause was a sign of collective catharsis. It is also a testament to the vital role of art as a medium for collective emotional release in reaction to the disheartening news filtering in from Gaza.
Ultimately, this play is a clarion call for attention and empathy towards the current Palestinian humanitarian crisis. Its anecdotes assign Palestinians names instead of numbers, humanizing the Palestinian experience. This emphasis on individual biographies reminds us of the intrinsic value of each Palestinian life, particularly relevant in contrast to the grim reality of hundreds dying every day in Gaza. 
