By Doaa M. Baumi
The first light of dawn in Jenin filters through the olive groves, casting long shadows over a land steeped in history, struggle, and unyielding resilience. In Susan Abulhawa’s powerful novel, Mornings in Jenin, these early hours become more than just a time of day—they are a symbol of hope, loss, and the indomitable spirit of a people whose stories have often been silenced.
Mornings in Jenin is a multi-generational story about the Abulheja family, a Palestinian family forcibly removed from their olive-farming village of Ein Hod by the newly formed state of Israel in 1948. Displaced to live in canvas tents in the Jenin refugee camp, the Abulheja family’s life becomes a tale of survival amidst a half-century of violent history. As their temporary tents are replaced by more forebodingly permanent cinder block huts, they are constantly engulfed in loss, fear, hatred, and pain. Yet, amidst all this, there is always the waiting—waiting to return to a lost home.
The novel’s voice is that of Amal, the granddaughter of the old village patriarch. Amal is a bright and sensitive girl who, against all odds, makes it out of the camps only to return years later to marry and bear a child. Amal, who was keen to be loved and have a family, finally met her love in Beirut.
Through her evolving vision, we get the story of her brothers—one who is kidnapped to be raised Jewish, and another who ends up with bombs strapped to his middle. But of the many interwoven stories, stretching backward and forward in time, none is more important than Amal's own. Her story is one of love and loss, of childhood, marriage, parenthood, and finally, the need to share her history with her daughter, to preserve the greatest love she has.
Jenin, a city that has seen its share of turmoil, becomes a character in its own right in Abulhawa’s narrative. The harvest season of the olives, a significant event for the Abulheja family and their community, is portrayed with vivid beauty. The land, during this season, is at its most abundant, with the ancient olive trees standing as symbols of endurance and connection to the earth. The mornings in Jenin, especially during the olive harvest, are painted with the warmth of the sun and the richness of the soil, reflecting both the beauty and the hardships of life in this region.
Abulhawa’s portrayal of Jenin is deeply evocative. She captures the beauty of the landscape—the olive trees, the rolling hills, the quiet mornings—but also the scars left by years of conflict. Through her words, we see how the land itself becomes a repository of memory, holding within it the stories of those who have lived, loved, and lost.
What stands out most in Mornings in Jenin is the resilience of its characters. Despite the unimaginable hardships they face, there is a quiet strength in their ability to endure. The mornings in Jenin, with their mix of hope and despair, mirror the resilience of the Palestinian people. Abulhawa does not shy away from the pain and suffering, but she also highlights the moments of tenderness, love, and solidarity that sustain the characters through their darkest hours.
Amal, in particular, embodies this resilience. Her journey—from a carefree child in Jenin to a woman grappling with her identity in the diaspora—is a testament to the enduring human spirit. Even when faced with loss and displacement, Amal, like the mornings in Jenin, holds on to the possibility of renewal and hope.
Set against one of the twentieth century's most intractable political conflicts, Mornings in Jenin is a deeply human novel—a novel of history, identity, friendship, love, terrorism, surrender, courage, and hope. Its power forces us to take a fresh look at one of the defining conflicts of our lifetimes. Through the eyes of Amal, we experience the profound love and loss, the struggles of childhood and parenthood, and the desperate need to preserve one’s history for future generations.
Reading Mornings in Jenin reveals the profound struggle of Palestinians, both within their own country and in the diaspora. The novel powerfully portrays how their dream of finding a true home becomes a quest amidst the backdrop of displacement and loss. For the characters in the story, the idea of home is not just a physical place, but a deep longing for belonging and peace in a world that constantly denies them both. Through the narrative, we see how this dream is carried from generation to generation, even as it remains painfully elusive.
Mornings in Jenin is more than a novel—it is a powerful reflection on the complexities of identity, the pain of displacement, and the strength of those who continue to hope and dream, even in the face of overwhelming odds.
This post was written by Doaa M. Baumi. Baumi holds a PhD from the University of Birmingham, complemented by an MA from the University of Chicago and a BA from al-Azhar University in Cairo. She has enriched the academic landscape by teaching diverse courses to undergraduates both in the US and the UK. Baumi's groundbreaking doctoral thesis is set to be published as a book by De Gruyter. Her prolific scholarly contributions demonstrate her dedication to bridging cultural divides through education.