in places that are difficult to uncover.’” Those weapons will br

someday be used against Jews.

Hate? On May Day, 1976, at a huge Arab rally in Nazareth br

to celebrate brotherhood and solidarity, Samiah Al Kassen, an br

Israeli Arab poet, delighted the crowd by reading one of his br

works. The full text appeared on May 7 in the Arab-language br

newspaper Al-Atihad. It reads, in part:

O Joshua, son of Nun
Listen!
You stopped the sun on the walls of Jericho
Did you satisfy the desire of your murderous God?

You will murder in the day and inherit the murdered
All the oceans in the world cannot clean your hands . . .

Who has the deed to the land, to history?
Who has the deed?
You have the weapons, the army, the clubs
You have the flag, the newspapers, the embassies
True, true: but in my pocket, I will preserve the deed:

As long as there are stones on this land
as long as there are empty bottles
we will throw them on your tanks.

Poetry is the marching tune of national rebellion. Israeli br

Arabs honor their poets especially when they write of the de- br

struction of the Zionist state. In February 1977 the PLO’s press br

attaché at the UN, Rashed Hussein, died in a New York City br

hotel fire. He had been born in the Israeli Arab village of br

Musmus, and on February 8 the Israeli government allowed his br

body to be buried there. Thousands of Arab citizens of Israel br

streamed through a muddy, winding path to hear Arab Knesset br

member Tewfik Zayad declare: “We shall never give in until the br

goal that Rashed Hussein and his friends [sic] advocated, br

fought for, and struggled for is fulfilled.”

Hussein’s “friends” are the PLO. We all know what they br

have “advocated, fought for, and struggled for.” When an Is- br

raeli Arab, a Knesset member (and mayor of Nazareth), pledges br

to see that these are “fulfilled,” what does that say about the br

Arabs of Israel?

Too many simply do not understand that the Arab-Israeli br