Literary World Split Down the Middle This Week

by Mandira Pattnaik

This week two opposing letters written by a bunch of very famous authors, publishing agents and members of cultural organizations made it to my social feed. The first one was published on October 28 in Literary Hub, and was titled ‘Hundreds of Authors Pledge to Boycott Israeli Cultural Institutions.’ Signed by such eminent authors as Sally Rooney, Ocean Vuong, Kaveh Akbar and Jhumpa Lahiri, the letter said: “We have a role to play. We cannot in good conscience engage with Israeli institutions without interrogating their relationship to apartheid and displacement.” (excerpt)

I don’t know but I thought that this was unusual. “Interrogating their relationship” is one thing, but boycotting them altogether another. Reading the letter in its full version I came to the conclusion that the headline was perhaps misleading, because, in the next paragraph, the letter states:

We will not cooperate with Israeli institutions including publishers, festivals, literary agencies and publications that:

A) Are complicit in violating Palestinian rights, including through discriminatory policies and practices or by whitewashing and justifying Israel’s occupation, apartheid or genocide, or

B) Have never publicly recognized the inalienable rights of the Palestinian people as enshrined in international law.

As far as I understand, they are not ‘boycotting’ the entirety of the Israeli cultural scene but are looking to decide on a case by case basis. Which was okay with me. I mean I can envision a time when, in my own country, the ruling government’s actions may fall upon me — when I have never been a supporter of the leaders, or of the party in power, or of their policies — and, to top it all, such a decision on an international level would be crushing to a small time writer like me and my literary pursuits. How does boycott even work — is the literary landscape in Israel otherwise routine and normal as far as their culture and arts scene is concerned? I mean I am not sure if they are still holding literary festivals and book fairs when the country is at war on all its borders? Media in India is full of videos that show new bombings lighting up their night sky. The organization of and participation in such literary and cultural events seem highly unlikely because Israel is such a small country. It is harder for me to imagine because it would be different in India I guess, with such a vast territory. If India was at war on one or two fronts, still a major part of it would be thousands of kilometers away and probably untouched. But that is perhaps not the case in any part of Israel. I’m also a bit baffled how and who is keeping track closely enough as to include some agents, writers and publishers into this supposed boycott by recognizing the fact that they “never publicly recognized the inalienable rights of the Palestinian people as enshrined in international law” and allowing others to continue partnerships with for those who have “publicly recognized” the same. Moreover, as a person whose family went through war, partition, and forced displacement, I do not think a mere public statement in the media (recognizing etc.) is going to do anything for the plights of the suffering people or absolve those entities, if, in the event they are in cahoots with government organizations or receive funding covertly.

To be very clear, I am not a supporter of war — anywhere and for any reason whatsoever. I can’t believe we are living through genocide in the year 2024 when we were supposed to be all educated and modern. I find it ridiculous and totally unacceptable that blood is cheaper than territory and national pride. War should be condemned unequivocally, and important voices must stand up against it. I believe once they do so, the masses tend to follow suit forcing the political heads to never even think of war. That brings me to the thought about this letter being so terribly late. I mean it came on October 28, 2024. Isn’t it a little too late? Are the signatories not already complicit?

The reactionary and opposing response from the literary and entertainment industry — including several Nobel laureates, Pulitzer prize, and Booker prize winners — against “illiberal and dangerous” cultural boycotts was definitely sharp and contrasting and came almost immediately. In a press release by the Creative Community for Peace on October 29, 2024, the letter was publicly shared. It had been signed by a thousand plus writers and cultural community members, including the British Man Booker winner Howard Jacobson, French philosopher Bernard-Henri Lévy and Austrian playwright, author and Nobel Prize Award winner Elfriede Jelinek. It stated: “The instincts and motivations behind cultural boycotts, in practice and throughout history, are directly in opposition to the liberal values most writers hold sacred.” (excerpt)

British author Lee Child, creator of the Jack Reacher novel series, said: “Politically targeting novelists, authors, and publishing houses based on their nationality is misguided. At a time when dialogue is paramount and when compromise can lead to peace, castigation and blanket boycotts are counterproductive. The written word, and the dissemination of it, must always be protected, especially in times of heightened tension. And to achieve peace, we must humanize one another and build bridges across communities through the open exchange of ideas. Literature allows for that. Boycotts hinder it.”

Sharon Rosen Leib, former deputy attorney general in California’s Department of Justice, and award-winning freelance journalist, said about the boycott: “In signing the boycott letter, Everett (Percival Everett, author of this year’s Booker-prize nominated James, and the 2001 novel Erasure — which became the basis for the brilliant 2023 satirical film American Fiction) is joining a new, sheep-like literary herd. He and the others effectively erase writers and literary events whose work could actually help people understand the human tragedy of the ongoing Gaza war in all its dimensions.”

What alternatives did authors of the stature of Sally Rooney and Jhumpa Lahiri have other than to sign the first boycott letter? Now this is a blurry area. Lahiri, for example, recently declined NYC’s Noguchi Museum award to protest the museum’s directive that employees could not wear clothing or accessories that expressed “political messages, slogans or symbols” during their working hours. The museum reacted by saying it respects Lahiri’s perspective and understands that their dress at workplace policy may not align with everyone’s views. Amy Hau, the director of the museum, said (the policy) “is intended to prevent any unintentional alienation of our diverse visitorship, while allowing us to remain focused on our core mission of advancing the understanding and appreciation of Isamu Noguchi’s art and legacy.” In my perspective this is an ideal situation: the fact that Lahiri protested and the museum respected her decision. It reaffirms our faith in valuing each other’s perspective. As for Rooney, 140 bookstores across the U.S. hosted release parties — a blockbuster treatment — for Sally Rooney’s new release Intermezzo in September, according to an article in Time Magazine. I wonder if they checked the ownerships and guest lists of these bookstores, and particularly their standpoints on issues and their political affiliations. Did Rooney consider a boycott then?

I find this system of handing out awards, big book launches, boycotts and cancel culture a manifestation of serious privilege and sense of entitlement not acknowledged enough — these authors have massive followings after all. The boycott call (and cancel mechanism) is a kneejerk reaction in a mild excusable sense, and possibly, sheer opportunism, on the worst end of the scale. Where did the whole conflict start and where were you then? What crimes jolt you enough to take a stand and what others do you choose to endure? What are the ways in which the literary community can register its protest, other than boycott itself?

All said, as a writer, it pains me to see this deep divide. I wish at least the writing community wasn’t as polarized as it is today.