Source: https://www.jurist.org/features/2025/01/14/interview-not-a-far-off-goal-palestinian-scholar-salman-abu-sitta-on-the-right-of-return/
https://x.com/pitasanna/status/1879249308479861172

Dr. Salman H. Abu-Sitta, a Palestinian academic, is renowned for his extensive work documenting Palestine’s land and people, as well as developing a practical return plan for Palestinian refugees. He founded the Palestine Land Society (PLS), accredited by the UN Committee on the Exercise of the Inalienable Rights of the Palestinian People (CEIRPP), and established the Palestine Land Studies Center at the American University of Beirut (AUB), housing over 40 years of his research.

Author of more than 400 articles and several landmark atlases — including the Atlas of Palestine 1948 and the Atlas of Palestine 1871-1877 — he has also created a series of poster maps related to Al Nakba. His memoir, Mapping My Return, offers a personal account of Al Nakba in southern Palestine. A former member of the Palestine National Council, Abu-Sitta has participated in numerous international forums on Palestinian rights and delivered a notable address, A Palestinian Address to Balfour, at the University of Edinburgh in 2022.

Abu-Sitta spoke to JURIST’s Senior Editor for Long Form Content, Pitasanna Shanmugathas, about his childhood in Palestine before the establishment of the state of Israel in 1948 on his land, how he and his family survived the Nakba, his family’s current situation in Gaza, and his detailed proposal for implementing the Palestinian Right of Return.

This interview has been edited for clarity and concision. 

Pitasanna Shanmugathas: Dr. Abu-Sitta, you were born in Palestine in 1937, in the Beersheba district. Could you describe what life in Palestine was like during your childhood, before the establishment of the state of Israel in 1948? 

Dr. Salman Abu-Sitta: I was born in 1937 in al-Ma’in Abu-Sitta, a 6,000-hectare area in the Beersheba district that my family had owned for over 200 years. Al-Ma’in, named after my family, was part of a vibrant agricultural community. We cultivated wheat, barley, grapes, figs, and almonds, and raised sheep, camels, and cattle. My father built a school in 1920, a flour mill, with four silos for our wheat and barley, reflecting our self-sufficient and prosperous ways of life. Education was highly valued in my family — my father built the first school in 1920 at his expense, by the 1930s, my brothers were pursuing high school in Jerusalem and by 1944, four of them were in university in Cairo.

Palestine at that time was a land of established communities, rich culture, and resilience. However, British policies under the Mandate, such as facilitating Jewish immigration and land acquisition, began to destabilize the country. My father and relatives resisted, fighting the British in World War I, including at the Suez Canal, and later during the Arab Revolt of 1936-1939. My brother led the Revolt in the Beersheba district, where we expelled British forces for a year and even established a local government.

This resilience was met with brutal suppression by the British, who bombed Palestinian villages and supported the growing Zionist movement. By 1948, the situation reached a devastating climax. On May 14, 1948, the Zionist militia Haganah attacked our land with 24 armored vehicles, burning our homes, destroying the school my father built, and expelling us from al-Ma’in. That day, coinciding with the declaration of the state of Israel, marked the beginning of my life as a refugee — a status I have endured for over 28,000 days.

I never saw a Jew in my life before. I never knew who they were. As a child, I could not comprehend how strangers could come from distant lands to take what was ours, displacing a people with over 4,000 years of recorded history. This tragedy shaped my life’s mission: to document and preserve Palestinian history and advocate for our right of return. I’ve published several works, including the Atlas of Palestine and the Return Journey Atlas, which chronicle our land’s transformation and provide a blueprint for reclaiming it.

Our history and connection to the land remain deeply ingrained in my identity and my work, as I strive to ensure that the world recognizes the truth of what happened and the injustice that Palestinians continue to seek.

Shanmugathas: Talk about what was Israel’s purpose behind the Nakba.

Abu-Sitta: The Nakba was a deliberate effort to erase all traces of Palestinian existence. Even the roads that connected al-Ma’in to other towns like Beersheba, Gaza, and Rafah were obliterated and replaced with new roads designed to serve the settlers. It was as though they sought to rewrite the geography itself, erasing not just our physical presence but also our history. My family, along with thousands of others, was forced to seek refuge in the Gaza Strip. I was just 10 years old, witnessing the complete destruction of my home and community — a trauma that shaped my identity and my lifelong commitment to documenting and preserving our history.

After finding refuge in the Gaza Strip, not yet Israeli-occupied, my family’s priority was survival and education. My father sent me to Cairo, where my older brothers were already studying. I completed my schooling there and earned a degree in civil engineering. Later, I pursued a PhD in civil engineering at University College London, which shaped my career as a professor and later as an international engineer. Yet, no matter how far my journey took me, I was haunted by questions about what happened to al-Ma’in after we were forced to leave.

When I began investigating, I discovered that settlers had built four kibbutzim on our land — Nirim, Ein Hashlosha, Nir Oz, and Magen. These weren’t organic communities but part of a military strategy. The kibbutzim were constructed on elevated points for strategic advantage and surrounded by trenches, barbed wire, and fortifications. Their goal was clear: to prevent us, the refugees, from returning. They knew that we were just a kilometer away in the Gaza Strip and would always dream of going home.

This militarized transformation of our land starkly contrasted with the organic way our community had developed over centuries. Where our lives had been intertwined with the natural landscape — fields, orchards, and wells — the kibbutzim were built with cold, calculated precision. Aerial photos from the 1950s to the 1970s show how the destruction of our homes and the construction of settlements unfolded step by step. The settlers built huts first, then fortifications, and eventually brought Jewish immigrants from Europe and other places to inhabit them.

Shanmugathas: You mentioned that as a result of the Nakba you and your family became refugees in the Gaza Strip. Do you currently have family in Gaza, and if so, how have they been affected by Israel’s assault on Gaza following the October 7 attacks? 

Abu-Sitta: Yes, most of my family still lives in Gaza, and their suffering is indescribable. The ongoing assault on Gaza has turned life into an unimaginable horror. Communication with them is almost impossible — telephones are often down, and when I do manage to speak to someone, the news is always devastating. For instance, in Khan Yunis, their homes have been completely destroyed, leaving them with no choice but to flee to Al Mawasi, a coastal area. There, they are living in makeshift tents, exposed to the elements. The tents are drenched in water from the rain, and with the harsh winter temperatures, the situation has become life-threatening. Seven children have already frozen to death from the cold. Now eight.

Sending them any form of aid is nearly impossible. Banks have been destroyed, making money transfers unfeasible. Even if money could reach them, it would do little, as basic necessities are unavailable or exorbitantly expensive. For example, a kilogram of tomatoes now costs 10 to 20 times its normal price. The scale of suffering is unimaginable. Some 200,000 people in Gaza — 10% of its population — have been killed or injured. To put that into perspective, that would be the equivalent to 34 million Americans being affected in a similar manner.

This is a genocide happening in real-time, visible to the world through the screens of our phones and televisions. It’s not a distant historical event — it’s unfolding now. UN agencies like UNICEF and OCHA have documented the atrocities extensively. The evidence is undeniable. Yet, despite this, the world remains paralyzed. Over 160 member states of the United Nations have called for a ceasefire, but their efforts have been vetoed multiple times by the United States. The U.S., in turn, provides Israel with the bombs, financial resources, and political cover necessary to sustain this assault.

As a historian and someone deeply familiar with global injustices, I find it astonishing that such atrocities can occur with the world watching and yet so little action being taken. No one can claim ignorance. Those who speak out — students, activists, and scholars — are silenced, often with severe repercussions. The question now is how individuals and nations will respond, knowing what is happening and understanding the consequences of inaction.

Shanmugathas: To our readers at JURIST who might be unaware, could you explain the concept of the Palestinian right of return? 

Abu-Sitta: The concept of the right of return is, first and foremost, a universal and inalienable right for everyone. You may recall that on December 10, 1948, the Universal Declaration of Human Rights was adopted by the United Nations. Article 13 states that everyone has the right to leave their country and to return to it.

The very next day, on December 11, 1948, the United Nations General Assembly passed the famous Resolution 194, which affirmed that refugees must be allowed to return. This resolution contained three key elements:

• First, refugees must be allowed to return to their homes
• Second, they must receive relief until this happens.
• Third, mechanisms must be created to facilitate their return.

Israel refused to allow the refugees to return but permitted relief efforts, as it was their responsibility to provide for the refugees they had displaced. However, Israel soon abdicated this responsibility, which was then transferred to the United Nations and managed by the United Nations Reliefs and Works Agency (UNRWA). Now, not only does Israel refuse to implement the right of return, but it is also attempting to dismantle UNRWA altogether.

The third element in resolution 194 was the establishment of UNCCP to plan the return of the refugees. It is still in existence but Israel does not allow its action.

Since its passage, Resolution 194 has been reaffirmed by the United Nations 135 times, making it one of the most repeatedly endorsed resolutions in UN history. This repeated affirmation effectively elevates it to the status of customary international law. No other resolution in UN history has been reaffirmed as frequently as this one.

People often ask whether the right of return is both legal and feasible. To address this, I conducted a study to demonstrate how it could be practically implemented.

Shanmugathas: Yes, and I want to get into the specifics of your proposal for the right of return. Before doing so, how would you respond to the argument that the Palestinian right of return is not binding under international law? Critics often claim that UN General Assembly Resolution 194 is merely a recommendation without legally binding force, as only UN Security Council Resolutions have binding authority. 

Abu-Sitta: That argument is incorrect for two reasons. First, the right of return is enshrined in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights as an inalienable right. While it is true that UN General Assembly resolutions are non-binding, this case is an exception because Resolution 194 has been reaffirmed by the United Nations 135 times. This repeated affirmation has elevated it to the status of customary international law.

No other resolution in the history of the United Nations has been reaffirmed so frequently. Legal experts, such as John Quigley and Mallison, have extensively argued that Resolution 194 has transcended the usual limitation of General Assembly resolutions and now constitutes customary international law. Moreover, it is important to note that Resolution 194 did not create the right of return; it simply reaffirmed this inalienable right.

Second, it is contrary to the principles of justice to argue otherwise. You cannot justify bringing people via smuggler ships, arming them with foreign support, allowing them to dispossess, kill, and displace an existing population, and then claim that such actions are acceptable. This defies both legal and moral standards.

Shanmugathas: You gained international attention for formulating a proposal to implement the Palestinian right of return without displacing Israel’s existing population. When did you first release this proposal, and how would the right of return work in practice?

Abu-Sitta: I think I first presented this proposal in 1998 at a conference in London. The essence of my proposal is that Palestinians can return to their homeland without displacing the Israeli population. Many of my European friends, who support the Palestinian cause, argue that the return of Palestinians would lead to displacement of Jews who now live there. They suggest that if Palestinians return, it will create a “Jewish Nakba,” forcing Jews to leave and return to Europe. I challenge this reasoning, as it is both morally and legally flawed.

This argument suggests that we, the displaced Palestinians, have fewer rights to our land than the foreign settlers who arrived with military support, committed atrocities, and took our land. To me, this is not only a racist argument, but an illegal one. The logic is akin to saying that if a burglar enters your home, kills half your family, forces you into a shed, and claims your house as his own, the argument would be that the burglar has the right to remain simply because he has been there for some time. This reasoning is utterly unjustifiable.

Even if we take this argument at face value, the situation is far simpler than many believe. I’ve collaborated with institutions like Forensic Architecture at Goldsmiths College, using aerial photographs, maps, and historical records to trace the process of destruction and rebuilding. What struck me most in my research was the emptiness of the land. In my research, I found that 88% of Israel’s Jewish population resides in only 12% of the land, specifically in three major areas: Tel Aviv, Haifa, and West Jerusalem. The rest of the land is either militarized or occupied by kibbutzim, which were deliberately planted not as organic farming communities, but as fortified military outposts designed to keep Palestinian refugees from returning. These settlements were surrounded by trenches, barbed wire, and machine guns, particularly near Gaza, West Jerusalem, and the Lebanese border. The land outside of these concentrated areas is largely uninhabited, which presents a clear opportunity for the return of Palestinians without displacing anyone.

Despite the portrayal of densely populated Israeli settlements, vast stretches of former Palestinian land are nearly uninhabited. The reality is that most of the land is not occupied in the way people might think.

The key to implementing the right of return lies in the legal status of the land. No Israeli living in what is now called Israel has a title deed to the land they occupy. All the land in Israel is controlled by the Israel Land Administration (ILA), which holds the land of all Palestinian refugees and leases it out to kibbutzim and settlements. These settlers are not landowners — they are renters, leasing the land from the Israeli government, which acts as a landlord. But, for example, if the Israel Land Administration were transformed into the Palestinian Land Administration, Palestinians could return to their land, reclaiming what is legally theirs based on the documentation they hold.

In practical terms, the return of Palestinians could be achieved swiftly. I have mapped out the return routes for each refugee camp, detailing where each person originally came from in Palestine and how they can return. The distances are short — no more than 50 kilometers at most and in some cases, as little as 1 kilometer for those in Gaza. Refugees could easily walk home, and for others, buses could be arranged, with travel times of no longer than 40 minutes. This is not a complicated or far-off goal; the logistics are simple and feasible.