In the fall of 2022, my friend Ahmed, who was pursuing a postgraduate degree at the University of Amsterdam, faced numerous challenges related to his Palestinian identity. On the day the university welcomed new students, their nationalities and countries were showcased on a notice board. However, Ahmed noticed with dismay that “Palestine” was absent from the displayed list, while Israel was included.

This omission deeply upset Ahmed, fueling anger and frustration. Determined to address the issue, he went to the registration office, only to be met with unanticipated obstruction. The university staff insisted that he provide official documentation to verify his Palestinian identity, which proved nearly impossible. As a Jerusalem resident, Ahmed only had an Israeli birth certificate and an Egyptian passport, neither of which explicitly confirmed his Palestinian identity.

As part of Ahmed’s academic studies on media and political communications, he had the opportunity to explore Palestinian issues in depth. For his graduation project, he examined how visual framing and images impacted perceptions and emotions. He used images from prior Gaza wars as a case study and conducted a practical experiment involving over 100 student-participants from the Netherlands and other countries. While most of his peers were informed about the Palestinian cause, some remained “neutral,” presumably due to the influence of biased media.

Soon after, the collaborative environment in Ahmed’s statistical research course challenged this neutrality. One moment of solidarity that deeply touched Ahmed was when a British classmate aged 27 shared detailed information about Palestine’s rich history dating back to the Ottoman era, praised its high-quality olives and uniquely sweet oranges; he also highlighted some of the problems Palestinians face today as a result of the 15-year blockade of Gaza since 2007: a severe water crisis and movement restrictions. He also spoke of the frequent violence that Palestinians experienced caused by the Israeli occupation. Hearing someone else speak of his life as a Palestinian and express solidarity with him, instilled pride and renewed in Ahmed an affirmation of his identity.

Unsuspecting reminders of past oppression

While the support and knowledge offered by his British classmate served as a source of motivation for Ahmed, his sense of being visible and seen remained elusive. A particularly difficult period came when he was placed in a group with an Israeli student. Despite maintaining professionalism, Ahmed initially rejected the student’s Facebook friend request. But curiosity eventually led him to view his profile, where he was disturbed to see images of the student wearing a military uniform and standing next to a tank — very real symbols of the oppression Ahmed was seeking to escape.

The student’s past military involvement made it hard for Ahmed to form a meaningful connection. Even though he initially thought that a conversation might help bridge the gap between them, he decided to boycott the Israeli student — by ignoring him — and instead to prioritize his own well-being. Ahmed’s decision to distance himself from the Israeli student was his way of asserting his dignity, yet it inevitably led to confrontations. He tried to explain his feelings to his professor, but the academic environment often demands neutrality, making it difficult for his personal grievances to be fully understood or accommodated.

The need for constant telling and retelling

Ahmed’s experience underscores the significance of acknowledgment, education, and solidarity in addressing the Palestinian matter. It sheds light on the personal and political challenges encountered by Palestinian students and highlights the crucial role that informed, empathetic engagement can play in promoting understanding and support.

Although Ahmed did not receive administrative support for his project, and the university remained neutral in academic discussions, his efforts marked the beginning of a journey to change perspectives —a journey that still has a long way to go.

Ahmed’s story is a reflection of the broader challenges faced by Palestinian students abroad. The initial incident at university registration wasn’t just a bureaucratic oversight; it underscored the larger political issue of Palestinian recognition. Ahmed’s frustrations and efforts to validate his identity highlight the daily struggles Palestinians encounter in asserting their national identity in a world that often marginalizes or denies it.

Initially, Ahmed struggled to prove his identity. He provided educational certificates and a heartfelt letter of recommendation from a former professor. He also sought support from legal and advocacy organizations dedicated to Palestinian issues. Despite all these efforts, it was all just to prove his existence as a Palestinian. This exhausting process underscored the harsh, rigid, and political obstacles Palestinians must overcome to assert their existence and rights on the global stage.

Ahmed’s graduation project focused on the powerful visual representation and emotional resonance of war imagery, highlighting his commitment to raising awareness about the Palestinian struggle. By using authentic images from the Gaza conflict, Ahmed aimed to evoke empathy and understanding from his peers. The project, involving participants from diverse backgrounds, demonstrated the profound impact of imagery on perspectives and how media can shape political beliefs.

This sense of unity and the willingness to engage with the complexities of the Palestinian issue gave him a feeling of affirmation and optimism. Despite the challenges, Ahmed realized allies are willing to listen, learn, and advocate for justice.

Hearing about Ahmed’s experience filled me with deep frustration and anger on his behalf. The thought of facing such bureaucratic insensitivity and the emotional burden of being grouped with an Israeli student, whose mere presence served as a painful reminder of the occupation, was overwhelming. If I were in Ahmed’s shoes, I would have struggled to contain my emotions, especially during group projects requiring close collaboration. Working alongside someone whose military past symbolized oppression would have been intolerable.