Books like Rifqa — picked by fans

Mahmoud Darwish is without a doubt the national Palestinian poet, who expresses the experience of millions of Palestinians across generations.

Whether he is writing about exile, love, or death, his poetic voice reverberates simultaneously in the soul, the intellect, and the body. Darwish speaks with the intimacy of someone who is not afraid to be vulnerable and the authority of a poet who believes that poetry can change the world.

This collection gathers together the best translations of his poems by American poet Carolyn Forché working in collaboration with Munir Akash, and includes commentary by the important Arabic writers Sinan Antoon, Fady Joudah, and Amira El-Zein.

There is no better place to start learning about Palestine than with the stories of Ghassan Kanafani, a writer and militant activist who was assassinated by Mossad, the Israeli Secret Service, in 1972.

Kanafani combined activism with a powerful ability to recreate the Palestinian experience of displacement and forced migration. In one of his most moving and disturbing stories, Men in the Sun, Kanafani tells of three Palestinian migrant workers who travel from the refugee camps of Iraq to Kuwait in the hopes of finding work.

The story was made into a film called The Dupes by Egyptian director Tawfiq Saleh in 1973.

Raja Shehadeh is the author of many important books on Palestine.

He has a unique ability to interweave the personal into the political in his writing. That talent shines through in this recent book, a memoir about his relationship to his father, an influential attorney and defender of Palestinian rights who was murdered outside his home in Ramallah in 1985. In telling the story of this relationship, which was marked by mutual misunderstanding and unarticulated love, Shehadeh also tells a story about the history of the Palestine people.

He shows how the conflicts and displacements inflicted on Palestinians have torn apart millions of lives and destroyed the human connections that many of us take for granted.

Steven Salaita’s ordeal of being hired and then fired from a tenured position at the University of Illinois in Urbana-Champaign in 2014 was among the first and most consequential instances of the suppression of pro-Palestinian speech in the North American university system.

It marked the beginning of a wave of censorship that persists to this day, in which academics are placed under extreme pressure to avoid saying anything that might challenge the status quo on Israel and Palestine. In this book, Salaita tells the story of how university bureaucrats who succumbed to the demands of Israel advocates and withdrew a job offer that he had already accepted.

While telling of how he was caught in the crossfire of a battle for Palestinian liberation, Salaita offers powerful reflections on the meaning of academic freedom and the role of the university.

As a journalist, teacher and Education Director for Israel’s Kids4Peace (now part of Seeds of Peace), Ittay Flescher has spent years bringing together youth across conflict lines. In this vital book for our times, he shows how recognizing our shared humanity can cultivate dialogue and trust, dismantle stereotypes, counter dehumanization, and foster empathy—demonstrating that in both groups, there are partners for peace. Flescher highlights young voices challenging the one-sided narratives they have inherited, and shows how, “two rooted and indigenous national identities” can engage in difficult conversations about historical events, identity, and coexistence.

Given how war has affected my own family, what resonated most is Flescher’s ability to humanize conflict. He reminds us that behind every headline are innocent mothers, fathers, daughters, and sons who deserve our compassion. He has learned that people with extreme opinions often carry deep traumas that shaped their beliefs: “I can understand someone’s pain and… show more.

This year Jews and Muslims around the world are struggling with the awful conflict in the Middle East.

Like so many, I yearn for a reality in which all the religions that count Jerusalem as a holy place could coexist with respect and honor.

De la Costa explores this elusive connection on a level that even young kids can understand, the shared love of a cat. The art is beautiful.

If you want a gripping account of one of Jerusalem’s most critical moments, read this nonfiction tale that is paced like an action novel.

Collins and LaPierre piece together a coherent story with compelling characters—British, Jewish, and Arab—drawn from Israel’s chaos and the war that followed. You find yourself perched on a parapet on the Old City's ancient wall with Jordanian fighters, or creeping through the darkened streets with an Israeli combat unit. This is Jerusalem history at its most personal, violent, and nitty gritty.

In this novel by a Palestinian-American poet, Liyana is an observant teenager whose family suddenly relocates from the U.S. to a tense, polarized, injustice-ridden Jerusalem. Habibi gives us Jerusalem and its surroundings from the Palestinian side, bringing to life the community and its traditions, frustrations, and shattering losses. Then the novel introduces a young Israeli to whom Liyana is strongly drawn—and things get complicated, as it seems they inevitably do in this place of complexities that are both age-old and ever-present. As Liyana and Omer grow close, the story opens into one that’s broader, deeper, and honestly challenging. The only real answer, Habibi seems to insist, is our own humanity.

It is impossible to grasp the hold that Jerusalem has on billions of people on the planet—Jewish, Christian, or Muslim—without understanding what Armstrong, a religious scholar but a popular writer, calls its sacred geography.

This is a great one-stop shop to appreciate the religious pull that the Holy City has had on so many for so many generations—and how that pull has launched bloody wars as well as dramatic innovations of faith.

Frankl, de Tocqueville, Love, and Tocquigny focus on affirmative action, success, meaning, and purpose, and Arendt provides a sobering reflection on the alternative. After observing the greatest horror the world has produced, she concludes much of the wickedness in the world is created by people in the neutral zone, people with no allegiance to good or evil, people who “just let it happen.”

What happens when we don’t choose but are content to let others choose for us when we deny our “response-ability.” Who is responsible when no one is responsible?