What Do Gazans Read During War?

This is the start of what we hope will be a series of pieces by poet and journalist Husam Maarouf on reading, writing, and publishing in Gaza.

By Husam Maarouf

Bookselling in times of war might seem peculiar—extremist in its pursuit of life, of other lives, against a reality inundated by death, displacement, and terror for civilians.

In Gaza’s ongoing war, most people seek basic necessities such as food, clothing (which no one fled with enough of), and tents to shelter them from exposure. But, surprisingly, they also seek books.

Some might regard reading as a luxury during war, assuming that war strips a person of the capacity for thought and reflection. After all, war seems to surpass in force and cruelty any experience that can be conjured by the imagination. But others see books as an essential escape—a way to shield the spirit from the burden of anxiety and fear that war inflicts on the body.

The resilience of books

The Israeli occupation has aimed to obliterate every facet of life in Gaza, including public libraries. Municipal libraries like those of Gaza City, the Rashad Shawa Cultural Center, and the libraries of Al Aqsa University and the Islamic University have been destroyed in the fifteen months of bombing that followed October 7, 2023; and commercial bookshops, such as the Samir Mansour Bookshop and Dar Al-Kalima, have not been spared.

But just as the human spirit perseveres, so too do books, despite the horrors, destruction, and annihilation in Gaza.

Marwa Al-Hasanat, 23, a book vendor in Gaza, sold books online before the war. But as internet access throughout Gaza became sporadic, she set up a bookstall in Deir Al-Balah in central Gaza.

“The occupation cannot stop us from imagining a better life, even if the war continues to annihilate us,” she says.

Word spread quickly about Al-Hasanat’s stall, and people began visiting daily to browse and inquire about titles. Selling books during war too became act of defiance and a form of resilience—a reverence for the self and for life.

Among the popular titles are Messages from the Quran by Adham Sharqawi; The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini, as well as other novels and self-help books like The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck.

People also request history books that delve into Palestinian history. Despite the grim realities of displacement and rain-soaked tents, which might drive people to want to escape from politics and history and anything earthly, Al-Hasanat recounts, “People reacted unexpectedly, and many people seemed serious about understanding what is going on, and raising their awareness of the Palestinian cause, to have a more comprehensive understanding of the occupation and its conspiracy against Palestine.”

Books have always symbolized the inner self and its individuality, and seeking books during war embodies this refusal to be defeated by death.

A personal story

On the margins of the war, other voices rise alongside the death cries.

When asked for an anecdote about a customer, Al-Hasanat recounted meeting a man who appeared particularly sorrowful as he sought out Mahmoud Darwish’s Memory for Forgetfulness. When asked why he wanted the book, he said that he wasn’t a reader before the war, but he would buy books for his wife without paying attention to their content. “His wife was killed during the war, and now he reads to connect with her interests and her memory, to connect with her spirit. It’s his way of keeping her close, reading what she once cherished.”

War’s influence on reading

War reshapes priorities, leaving people with spare time as work and routines grind to a halt. For some, this newfound emptiness draws them toward books. Al-Hasanat had a significant rise in book sales during the war, even though reading was not generally common before the war, making this phenomenon the more amazing amid the swamp of blood. “Reading becomes a gateway to an alternate life,” she says.

For Al-Hasanat, books were a lifeline after her father was killed by Israeli fire in November 2023. Grappling with profound grief and depression, she turned to literature. “In a few months, I read about 80 books. They saved me from a mental breakdown and an overwhelming sense of despair because of the eternal loss of my father.”

The challenges of selling books in wartime

Selling books during war carries its own set of challenges. Al-Hasanat describes her work as an expression of resilience and a means of fostering life and understanding amidst adversity.

“No matter how grim the circumstances, I provide people with inspiration and a path to self-discovery, leaving the black square of death behind,” she explains.

Acquiring books, however, is no small feat, both because of how Gaza has been bisected and the closure of the border crossings. “I buy books from people forced to sell their collections due to displacement or financial need in light of rising prices,” she says. Some books even find their way to her stall through smuggling from northern Gaza through the Netzarim corridor.

When Al-Hasanat herself was forced to flee her home, she faced a difficult choice: which books to save. That intimate relationship with books made her choose the three books that most shaped her consciousness: —Memory for Forgetfulness, by Mahmoud Darwish, which she read inspired by the story of the bereaved young man; I Saw Ramallah by Mourid Barghouti; and The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini.

Books as lifelines

In a world consumed by the destruction of those who fight to survive, books stand as beacons of humanity. They mend fractured spirits, soothe imaginations tainted with blood and flesh and rubble, and restore some balance in order to go on.

Husam Maarouf is a poet and journalist from Gaza. He has published two poetry collections, Death Smells Like Glass and The Barber Loyal To His Dead Clients, and the novel Ram’s Chisel. He is currently at work founding a new publishing house, Gaza Publications.