The Attack

“In those days, it was hard for the son of Bedouins to join the brotherhood of the highly educated elite without provoking a sort of reflexive disgust.”

From the opening paragraphs of the first chapter, the novel establishes the difficulty that Amin faces because of his race. This theme will return at numerous points throughout the novel, experienced differently by Amin and his wife. Through his narration, Amin notes the intersection between class politics (the “highly educated elite” (6)) and racism (“the son of Bedouins” (6)). While Amin has successfully navigated this intersection, he is not to be considered a typical case.

“You manage it technically, not humanely.”

The response of Amin and the other doctors to the terrorist attack is one of weary experience. Such attacks have become commonplace in the city, to the point where the doctors and medical staff have a practiced and somewhat muted response to the violence. The technical approach is also a coping mechanism; it allows the doctors to detach themselves from the horrific situation and allow their muscle memory to take over their response. 

“It was no use showing my papers and announcing my profession; the cops had eyes only for my face.”

Amin’s experience of racism is like the hospital’s response to the terrorist attacks. He has a routine in place and is exhausted by his repeated troubles. Even though he has spent his day trying to save people who have been hurt in the bomb attack, the police place him immediately on the side of the terrorist due to the color of his skin. They cannot look beyond his face when examining his role in society.

“Wedged between two brutes on the backseat of the police car, I look at the buildings filing past on one side and the other, and at the lighted windows where, for a few fleeting moments, figures appear like shadow puppets.”

The imagery used in the opening of the third chapter emphasizes Amin’s loss of control over the situation. As the revelations about Sihem take hold and he struggles to process this information, he finds himself trapped emotionally and literally. Unable to stop thinking about the revelation, he is physically trapped between two police officers. At the same time, the buildings around him are discussed with active verbs, suggesting that the scenery itself has more agency than Amin, and any people he does see are simply puppets in a great invisible show that Amin cannot comprehend. 

“Night surprises me on a stone slab facing the sea.”

Utterly dejected, Amin finds himself unable to focus on the immediate world. The present tense prose adds to this sense of disorientation: Large passages of time are skipped over, and Amin finds himself unexpectedly in a new place. Like Amin, the audience has no knowledge of how or why he has arrived in this place. These extended blackouts reflect how Amin and the audience feel lost and shattered by the truth of Sihem’s actions.

“THE FILTHY BEAST IS AMONG US.”

When Amin arrives at his gate, someone has hung a newspaper with the above headline plastered across the front page. The level of rage is clear and the pejorative implication of a racial motivation lies in the barely-hidden subtext. Amin is blamed for the attack, though he is likely suffering more than most of the people of Tel Aviv who were not directly affected by the bomb. There is no sympathy for his suffering. Instead, the mob begins to circle around Amin.

“I put my finger on my lips, imploring her not to give me away, then turn on my heels and head for the landing.”

After being beaten by a mob, spat upon, and targeted following the death of his wife, Amin faces the most devastating blow of all. He overhears his friends discussing the situation surrounding his wife’s death in violent, oppressive tones. The effect is more devastating than the mob attack; Amin had thought that these people were his friends, that they might understand the situation, but their language and discourse reflect that of the wider societies. Amin leaves, unable to cope with the situation. 

“Don’t hate me.”

The final line of Sihem’s letter emphasizes the unsatisfying, devastating effect the words will have on Amin’s life. She knows how it will change everything for him and how unaware he is of what she plans to do. Her priorities are clear; the potential welfare of her people has been prioritized over her love for Amin, regardless of whether her actions will be effective. On this point, there is too much disagreement between the two of them. Amin may hate her, she feels, because he never recognized the breadth of this divide. 

“I’ll never understand why the survivors of a tragedy feel compelled to make people believe they’re more to be pitied than the ones who didn’t make it.”

Though Yehuda does not know why Amin is in mourning, he has his own well of personal tragedy from which he can draw. He has spent his whole life reflecting on the horrors of the Holocaust and now, in his old age, realizes that he has never truly escaped the camps. His advice to Amin is to allow himself to move on, though he understands the importance and the appeal of clinging to the past to understand. 

“The suicide attack in Hakirya came at just the right moment to justify the stirrings of his old demons.”

Ilan Ros leads a campaign against Amin, who recognizes the longstanding bitterness and resentment that Ros has held toward him. Amin empathizes with the situation (unlike Ros, who can’t empathize with Amin), but this does not mean that he has to like his one-time colleague. Amin conflates together the racism, jealously, and bitterness, recognizing that men such as Ros are beyond redemption and not worthy of his time. 

“The thing is, I’ve never paraded my religious heritage anywhere.”

In the aftermath of the bombing, Amin’s very first traces of empathy for his wife’s beliefs begin to emerge. Throughout his life, he has tried to do everything correctly. He has been an exemplary citizen and has done more than what has been asked of him to be a respected member of society. He has never paraded his heritage, as he says, but this has not prevented others from defining him in this respect. Sihem was convinced that their children would never be free, and the actions of men such as Ilan Ros suggest that her theories (if not her response) may have been correct.

“My duty was to watch over her and protect her.”

Amin’s ability to process his grief has reached the stage where he is beginning to blame himself for his wife’s death. He is furious with his own inability to recognize what must have been a significant change in his wife’s beliefs. Her sudden turn changes his opinion of her and himself. Amin, who once saw himself as a dutiful and caring husband, didn’t notice his wife’s suicidal, murderous streak and extreme beliefs. As he processes her death, he must reevaluate his own self-image. 

“If you’ve never heard Sheikh Marwan preach, you’re missing half your life.”

Having traveled to Bethlehem to try and uncover Sihem’s motivations, Amin begins to hear the name “Sheikh Marwan” from more and more people. Though he does not yet know it, clues such as this are beginning to point him toward an inevitable conclusion. The distance from the Sheikh is clear at first: The tinny tape recording is neither high fidelity, convincing, nor nearby. As Amin uncovers the truth about his wife, he will learn how her life (and soon his) will be linked to the Iman. 

“From one day to the next, my dreams collapsed like a house of cards.”

Though Amin is still unsure of Yasser’s involvement in his wife’s suicide, he is convinced enough to release a moment of pent-up rage toward his brother-in-law. This functions as a moment of catharsis, a point at which Amin can look someone in the eye and accuse them of ruining his life. When talking to the police and his friends (and even himself in the mirror), Amin has lacked this opportunity. Now, as he berates Yasser, he can take a step forward in his grieving process. 

“You’ve been told a pack of lies. You’re not wanted here.”

The inherent irony of this comment is that in Bethlehem, supposedly among those of a similar racial profile as Amin, he is treated the same as by the Israelis in Tel Aviv. This is the central issue of Amin’s existence; he is caught between two worlds, wanted by neither and yet unable to separate himself from either. He is too Arabic for the Israelis and too Israeli for the Arabs. No matter where he turns, Amin finds himself facing prejudice and alienation. 

“Jerusalem suffers from an inability to inspire poems without enflaming passions.”

Reflecting on his childhood, Amin laments the fighting that has swallowed Jerusalem. He believes the conflict is what has motivated the death of his wife and so many others. When he looks at Jerusalem, he sees the best of both worlds. Amin cannot seem to grasp that he is one of the few people in the city who can put aside sectarian loyalties in the name of peace. It is why he will fundamentally never understand the conflict and why Sihem never attempted to explain her actions to him. 

“That was her affair; it’s a matter that doesn’t concern you.”

Amin’s confrontation with the man with the Lebanese accent reveals awkward truths that he has not considered. Amin views the lack of explanation around Sihem’s actions as an oversight on her part or a mystery to be explained. He has not considered—as is suggested in the above quote—that the lack of an explanation was purposeful. Sihem knew that Amin would struggle to grasp the nature of the struggle with which she had involved herself, as is evidenced by Amin’s argument with the man in question. While the man respects Sihem’s silence, Amin continues to demand answers. 

“No doubt it’s Sihem come back, or her ghost, or maybe even both of them.”

Locked in the house alone, Amin quickly becomes aware of how everything in the home is imbued with the memory of his dead wife. On the cusp of sleep, he feels as though he is being haunted. Not in a supernatural sense, but because each photograph, book, or piece of furniture seems to contain some memory of Sihem.

“This coincidence exercises me.”

Amin begins to assemble the truth about his wife’s past. It is ironic that his trust in her should be betrayed by a photograph. He sits down at first to indulge his nostalgia, to bathe in the memory of Sihem and try to jolt some sense of emotion into his life as he searches for answers. Instead, he finds betrayal and the truth about her relationship with Adel. The truth consumes him; even in the above quote, he is treating the incident as a coincidence and trying to remain calm, but quickly enough, his rage consumes him. 

“From the fifth day on, it becomes apparent that my wits are leaving me, one after another.”

Amin is beginning to recognize his own collapse into alcoholism and depression but seems unable (and unwilling) to stop it. Locked up in a hotel room, he is obsessing over Sihem and Adel while drinking every night. His behavior becomes so rude and aggressive that he is thrown out of a restaurant and taken to a jail cell. For the mild-mannered, middle-class surgeon depicted at the beginning of the book, the abandonment of his wits has affected Amin on a profound level and altered his character. 

“I’d had no idea that the state of decay was so advanced here, and all hope so effectively dashed.”

Finally confronted with the realities of life in Palestine, Amin is forced to confront truths that he had previously ignored. His entire life, he has tried to separate himself from the political tension between Arabs and Israelis, despite his heritage and the way he is treated. Until he passed through the wall, he could not comprehend why people would fight one another. The trip to Jenin is an unexpected, eye-opening experience for Amin. 

“I’m not anything anymore.”

With each passing day, Amin finds new ways to hate himself. After learning about Sihem, he is easily led into a trap by the militants in Palestine. He loathes himself for falling for so simple a trap and not taking action. For a man who has spent so much of his life in passive comfort, Amin has now become someone who craves any kind of agency over his life. He wants to take back control but cannot. 

“I believe I’ve arrived at my destination.”

Amin’s time in Palestine allows him to reconcile his feelings of betrayal. Though he never understands what made Sihem carry out the bombing, he has at least reconciled her infidelity. He knows now that she was physically loyal to him, if not ideologically loyal. Accepting that this is as close as he will ever come to understanding his wife’s actions, this is enough for Amin and allows him to begin the final step toward healing.