Politica by Yumna Kassab
The Politica is Not Personal
Sometimes broken promises can be as harmful as a loaded gun. In times of social struggle, defining what constitutes violence can be difficult and fraught with doubt. There may be disillusionment with the cost of living, of higher education, of housing and with the moral apathy of those in power, such as in the years-long prosecution of whistle-blowers David McBride and Julian Assange for exposing international war crimes. However, in Australia, armed resistance to political disenfranchisement remains a world away, literally. Armed movements have been fed to us through news coverage over the years in the form of uprisings, invasions and wars in foreign lands that are closer to some Australians than others.
Yumna Kassab takes the reader on a journey into the minutiae of human relations during armed conflict through her latest novel, Politica (2024, Ultimo Press). Kassab is a trailblazing author and storyteller who just last year became the first Parramatta Laureate in Literature. She has been listed for numerous prizes, including the NSW Premier’s Literary Awards, the Miles Franklin Literary Award and the Stella Prize. Politica explores conflict through a thousand intimate tales. The novel is a collection of moments, stories and characters as fragments that creatively weave together to represent the society of an unnamed country swept up in war.
Throughout Politica, vignettes of larger-than-life characters and their challenges are grounded through detailed descriptions of daily realities. Despite the nameless country, Arabic names, prayers “in the name of Allah”, and other Arabic cultural markers pinpoint this country as somewhere in the Middle East. In poetic prose, Kassab describes how on an afternoon of watching cartoons a teenager’s education is lost to an invasion; villagers commemorate the dead by visiting the town well; and a youth asks a soldier to use his knife to peel him an orange. In the novel, these fleeting moments offer a constant interplay between innocence and corruption, light and dark, even at times within a single line as, “Yasmeen? It is a pretty name but it is hardly the name for the leader of a revolution” (p. 30). In this harsh reality, questions surrounding martyrdom and the naming of a new baby girl can stand side by side. Rich character development is skilfully depicted through these interactions and their momentary depth.
Kassab’s varied writing style and chapter format reflect social relations during wartime, which incrementally paint a picture of a society broken apart: from Revolutionary leader Abdullah and his young family, to Salma who suffers from the memories of war thirty years on, to Hassan Effendi who “was born in the twilight of the Ottoman Empire” (p. 197). Scenes are conveyed in Kassab’s unique chapter style, many being only a page or two long. The accounts are non-linear yet connected, arguably reflecting the scattering of memory that can occur in the wake of trauma and shock. The reader is thus immersed in this grieving world. The novel beautifully encapsulates the ripple effects of loss of life, betrayal, migration and violent acts from the top command to the grassroots level of armed struggle. Few remain unscathed nor innocent.
The character representation involves a chorus of voices and opinions, which form a lucid dialogue throughout the book. From the novel’s epigraph which states “the personal is political” to a later quote in the text, “the political is not personal” (p. 47), Kassab presents a discussion – asking, answering and unpacking the many ways the social is reflected in the political and vice versa. The text takes on a conversational, stream-of-consciousness style also evident from Jamal’s father, “We are all on the same road” (p. 17) to Zeinab’s contemplation, “She remembered how he liked to say each person has their own path. What did a path mean if one was dead, if one did not live out a single day as a bride?” (p. 95). The characters depict their challenges but also offer existential debate amidst mourning and morning coffee. Questions are asked and answered, and hopes are built up and shattered.
Politica is a brilliant and timely tale told as a mosaic of endless trauma-stained truths and perspectives that together form one account of a crisis. Between relations of mother, daughter, father, ally and enemy, legacies and betrayals contend with social bonds in processes of societal change and their birthing pains. How much is lost along the way and is there ever an end to the violence? This novel comes amid real-world upheaval and crises of entrenched colonialism whereby humanising those killed or displaced by war is desperately warranted; as goes the grieving rally cry, “These are not just numbers”. Through this novel, Yumna Kassab beautifully carves out space for humanity, tenderness and promises amidst a world veering between idealism and armed struggle.
Mia Shouha is a Syrian-Australian emerging writer from Belmore. She is a teacher and PhD researcher with an Honours degree in Political, Economic and Socials Sciences from the University of Sydney. Mia’s writing largely explores themes of the anthropology of crisis, power structures and injustice. She has been published by the social media collective Wanabqa, the Journal of Australian Political Economy and Pike and Hurricane magazine.