Mahmoud Darwish’s funeral
August 14th, 2008
There were not as many people as I expected at Mahmoud Darwish’s funeral today in Ramallah. My uneducated guess is not much more than 10,000, and some of the friends I was with thought even fewer.
It was rather low-key, too. A handful of people had tears in their eyes, but for the most part the air was a curious mix of sombre and festive.
I was glad I’d been to see his last public recital a few weeks earlier. Anything else I could say is superfluous, so here are some pictures. (Anyone who wants to use them is welcome, but please credit me.)
It started off at the Muqata’a, the presidential compound in Ramallah, where Darwish’s body had been flown in from Amman. Only senior officials, diplomats and the press were allowed in, and only with prior coordination. We had no coordination and my friends weren’t even press. We got in anyway. You just keep pushing gently until the security guards get tired of blocking you.
After some speeches, his coffin was carried out and loaded on to a pickup truck.
The cortege left, followed by a few mourners, including this boy on his father’s shoulders.
Down by the Palace of Culture (a huge conference centre at the other end of town), the Palestinian scouts waited to form an honour guard.
Others carried a Palestinian flag about 50 yards long.
Boys played hide-and-seek under it.
The cortege arrived.
Darwish was buried. There was a 21-gun salute. (Seven guns, three times. Rather ragged.)
And everyone went home. As we left we saw a squad of the elite presidential guard jogging up the road singing marching songs in Arabic to the tune of “I don’t know but I’ve been told…” Seems the American security training is having an effect.
