Nothing unites Moroccan society like two causes: Palestine and its territorial unity.

Here, Palestine is not just a passing issue, but a pulse that travels across generations and a living memory that awakens human conscience whenever it begins to fade, just as the unity of the land is deeply rooted in the Moroccan collective spirit.

A clear right

In a time when disappointments of reality multiply and images of collapse grow louder, this flicker of truth remains bright, opening a window for the weary soul toward meaning. It is as if Palestine, in its constant presence, restores the balance between human beings and their dignity.

In Rabat, during a busy week filled with cultural events, the scene seemed to write a new chapter of this belonging. From the halls of the International Book and Publishing Fair in Rabat to the moment of honoring the Arkan World Poetry Prize awarded by the House of Poetry in Morocco this year to a collective Palestinian poetic presence: four poets, Ghassan Zaqtan, Yusuf Abdul Aziz, Tahar Riyad, and Zuhair Abu Shaib. It was a celebration of the richness of experience and the diversity of voices. Rabat appeared as a platform where poetry embraced its cause, and culture wrote solidarity in a language unmistakable to the soul.

I am Lebanese

In one of the rich cultural sessions this week, I listened to Marcel Khalife recount how audiences greet him with the phrase “welcome Palestinian artist,” and how he responds with a smile and a correction: “I am Lebanese.” Yet they, with spontaneous insistence, reply: “Yes, we know, and welcome, O Palestinian.”

That popular insistence does not miss the essence of the truth. When art is sincere to a cause, it becomes an identity that transcends geography. And when speaking of Marcel Khalife’s experience, Mahmoud Darwish, the towering presence of In the Presence of Absence, must also be mentioned in all the beauty of their shared journey.

The duo Marcel Khalife and Mahmoud Darwish formed a defining landmark in our collective consciousness, elevating the word from the darkness of reality into a wider horizon where poetry and music merge to create an impact that goes beyond any direct political discourse.

Their songs became stations of memory, harbors for the soul, and a gentle mobilization no less powerful than any traditional call to action. One recalls the song O Sister about my country. Tens of thousands shout along in the epic Ahmad al-Arabi, searching for hands of stone and thyme, for this anthem of Ahmad lost between two butterflies, for clouds that exiled us, for mountains that threw off their coats and sheltered us. And the earth falls silent when he whispers: I long for my mother’s bread.

Therefore, hope remains alive that the work Mural will one day see the light, this project created by Marcel Khalife, which he spoke about in our last meeting with beautiful passion, inspired by Mahmoud Darwish’s poem Mural. This poem, extended into a full volume, confronts questions of existence and nonexistence, struggles with illness and death, and opens wide the doors of contemplation.

Mural is considered one of Darwish’s most important works, even a peak poem in a poetic experience that reached its highest point. Khalife’s musical engagement with it is a natural extension of a path that united art and idea in a rare form.

I hope to see this work presented publicly in the grandeur it deserves.

Belonging to Palestine goes beyond national identity, becoming a deep belief in justice itself. For us, this generation has lived unforgettable moments along this path, from Yemen to Lebanon, Oman to Egypt, Tunisia, and Morocco, where Palestine has remained an open horizon of meaning.

It is the song of a lifetime, one not yet written as it should be, no matter how much has been written for it or about it. A song and a revolution that gives its followers more than it takes from them and remains despite everything a refuge for the soul when the earth becomes too narrow.

Ambassador of Yemen in Morocco

Disclaimer: The opinions expressed by the writers are their own and do not necessarily represent the views of Annahar