jordan pulse -

"Should we attend the Jerash Festival or boycott it?" Don't be surprised by this question. In the marketplace of "bids" that has arisen in our country for many months, filled with cunning individuals and onlookers, we've heard stranger things, and we might hear even more in the coming days. The issue isn't about a festival that has been running for over 40 years, nor is it about solidarity with Gaza, which all Jordanians, without exception, support. The festival is just a "pretext," but the real issue lies in the "full hearts" aiming to shake Jordanians' confidence in their state, tarnish its image, and force us to bow our heads and follow their set path.

Do you remember the "strike" incident when the call for it was made by anonymous sources and then welcomed by some in our country? Do you remember the boycott campaigns that cloaked themselves in the guise of "defending our people in Gaza," striking at our economy? If we open our national memory to the various events and images that filled our streets and debate platforms over the past nine months, we might better understand what is happening around and within us. Those who have assumed the guise of war and are mobilizing to drag us into it, and those who are not happy to see us standing on our feet, insist on hijacking any achievement we've made or could make. They want us to succumb to their conditions or remain mired in general gloom.

The Jerash Festival has found itself caught between two sets of jaws: those of the proponents of prohibition under a misguided sense of religiosity, who reduce it to mere dancing and singing, labeling it as immoral, and those of the proponents of condemnation under a false sense of politics, stripping it of its humanity and nationalism, contesting its identity, and using the attack on it as a tool for bargaining and emotional manipulation. These critics forget that the festival expresses the spirit, culture, and heritage of Jordanians. We may disagree on some of its activities or the names of some of its guests (as I have done many times), but we should not disagree that it has become a significant artistic and cultural achievement for Jordan. Nor should it be used as a platform for religious or political agendas to incite its boycott or cancellation, or for some to act as guardians of our values and priorities.

Let Jordanians make their own decisions. This is their festival. They might attend performances by the "Soul" band from Gaza or enjoy a concert remembering artists like Faris Awad, Mutrib Al-Saqar, or Habib Al-Zayoud. They might prefer listening to a poetry or theater evening, a philosophy or literature lecture, a national song, or a thought-provoking seminar. They might wander through the visual arts forum, the international sculpture exhibition, or follow "Jerash's Buds" for young creatives. They can also support our people in Gaza by purchasing a ticket or attending an event, or buying a cultural item from the festival's stalls.

This 38th edition of the festival is entirely different, where Jordanians celebrate their culture and identity, open to Arab and human values. They commemorate their history and the achievements of their country, remembering the figures who have left their mark on their beloved land. They also open their arms to embrace their steadfast kin in Palestine, Lebanon, Sudan, Syria, Iraq, and over 40 countries worldwide, exchanging greetings of resilience and pride, and sharing their achievements and creativity. This is an opportunity for intellectuals and artists in the Arab world to unite their voices and accomplish what politics has failed to achieve.

Yes, the general mood is troubled enough to chase away any semblance of joy, but what does the festival have to do with the death that surrounds us from all directions? On the day I write this article, around 100 Jordanians have passed away (with annual deaths in Jordan ranging from 30,000 to 36,000). Life has not stopped, nor will it. Who says that by living our lives, we are dancing on the bodies or souls of our departed loved ones? Victory in life, and in wars, derives its legitimacy from our ability to endure, not from succumbing to helplessness, from our awareness of reality, not from being consumed by the past, and from our determination to build, not to promote destruction and ruin.

It is our misfortune to be swayed by politics and the disgruntled culture associated with it, along with opportunists or those seeking to play the hero. However, Jerash—like Amman and its sisters—refuses to let its festival be subjected to these bids. It is part of the state's journey and achievement, and the discussion about it, not the incitement against it, is a matter for Jordanians who care about their country, not for those ready to attack it, whether it be in the context of a festival or otherwise.

Hussein Al-Rawashdeh