This thesis emerges as an exploration of the multifaceted nature of music, identity, and the enduring spirit of a people living through profound challenges. Based on autoethnographic reflection, it provides an introspective exploration of how sound becomes a vessel for presence, a mirror for resilience, and a space for transformation. Through music, this inquiry seeks not merely to articulate personal narratives but to connect them with the common pulse of a collective memory—a memory that is influenced by the persistent realities of displacement and the yearning for freedom that Palestinians, no matter where they are in the world, experience. At the heart of this research lie three case studies that illuminate the potential of music: Sonic Exile, where traditional Arabic modalities and experimental soundscapes dissolve into a single, resonating voice; Echoes from Bethlehem, an improvisational encounter with Palestinian Nay master Faris Ishaq that brings forth a meditative state of being wholly present in sound and spirit; and the work of the Amwaj Choir, where human voice rises above cultural and physical confines, embodying a living, enduring presence. The findings suggest that music is not a static act but a living practice—an unfolding dialogue between tradition and innovation, self and other, silence and sound. Improvisation, as a way of being, becomes a method of both reflection and resistance, enabling a deeper connection to the present moment while engaging with the complexity of the past. The research reveals music’s profound capacity to heal, to resist, and to imagine new pathways for freedom and belonging. Rather than offering definitive conclusions, this thesis extends invitations: to listen, to witness, and to remain open to the spaces where sound and silence meet, where identity and memory evolve, and where the human spirit, despite all, continues to create and endure.

4.4 Resisting through culture: The Palestinian Amwaj choir

While the following context was not the primary focus of my research project, this section offers a reflection on further findings emerging from a meaningful collaboration with the Palestinian Amwaj choir during one of my field trips. This is intended as a way to dig deeper into the wider findings and implications of my research.

During my time with Amwaj in the summer of 2023, the collaboration spanned a month, with preparations and rehearsals in Palestine followed by a tour in Italy. Not only did I witness the choir's incredible devotion to expression, but I was also moved to reflect on my own childhood experiences in Palestine. Being part of and observing their rehearsals and performances stirred in me the need for connection and the fragmentation I felt growing up, desiring to belong to a larger community.

As a child, I grappled with the dissonance between my innate longing for freedom and the environment that repressed it—a place where talent often fought to thrive in the face of societal and political oppression. The more I learned about the freedoms others had in the world, the more I felt the crushing reality of grappling with a vast machinery of control that sought to confine not only my movement but also my aspirations.

The daily struggles—limited freedoms, relentless checkpoints, and the need for permission to travel even a few kilometers—created a constant state of disorientation and longing. These restrictions, augmented by military violence, closures, and curfews, have left deep psychological scars on Palestinians, making it a reality of trauma and constrained possibilities (Abualkibash, 2017).

Amwaj’s work reflects music’s capacity to hold space for resilience, transcending performance to offer pathways for connection, expression, and collective strength. Through their artistry, the choir demonstrates how music resonates as a vital thread in the fabric of cultural identity, intertwining survival, self-determination, and shared humanity into every note. As Laïdi-Hanieh posits, cultural production in Palestine is tied to self-representation, challenging imposed narratives and asserting a presence that resists erasure (Laïdi-Hanieh, 2006).

In the face of severe restrictions on Palestinian freedom of movement, the ability to travel and perform with Amwaj in Italy became immensely meaningful. For a people denied access to airports and borders, crossing these imposed boundaries becomes an extraordinary assertion of existence. Amwaj’s songs and shared performances carry the voices of those who remain confined, revealing that even under systemic suppression, Palestinians can still create and connect. Through the autoethnographic lens, I witnessed how Amwaj exemplifies collective production as a revolutionary act, strengthening the bond between individual and collective identities. It is a dynamic process of renewal and assertion that reshapes both individual and collective memory. The singers, aged 8 to 18, engage not only with traditional Palestinian music but also integrate contemporary compositions.

Amwaj’s focus on intercultural dialogue and its commitment to creating a space where diverse backgrounds, gender equality, and non-alignment with any specific political agenda are central to its pedagogy, create an environment where music functions as a opportunity of personal liberation and cultural affirmation. This collaborative effort brings forth not only artistic growth but also a profound psychological shift—where music becomes a way of reasserting the value of human life in a system designed to strip it away.

As part of the Amwaj tour, I performed on the qanun in a series of concerts, with Opera Amal as the centerpiece. Inspired by Walid Daqqah’s novel Hikayat Sir al-Zeit (The Tale of The Oil's Secret), which tells the story of a boy imagining a reunion with his imprisoned father. Daqqah was a Palestinian political prisoner in occupation jails and has written a number of novels and books stemming from the persistence of the human spirit in the face of injustice. Tragically, more than a year after the tour, Daqqah passed away in detention. The opera featured a composition by Camille van Lunen, and a libretto by Cornelia Köhler, and was accompanied by an ensemble of strings, percussion, and qanun. Mathilde Vittu’s artistic direction was pivotal in shaping the opera’s emotional and musical creation, while Michele Cantoni’s leadership ensured the seamless integration of the choir’s broader goals. In addition to Opera Amal, the tour included performances featuring a mix of traditional Palestinian songs and contemporary compositions.

In October 2024, I was able to reconnect with Michele, the co-founder and director of Amwaj, via Zoom. This session was deeply reflective, especially given Michele’s strong connection to Palestine. As an Italian musician who has lived in France, England, and now Palestine for 20 years, he explained how his understanding of identity transcends any singular place or culture. He emphasized that his sense of self is based not in geographical or cultural confines, but in values, critical thinking, and an ongoing understanding of humanity. "The first degree of identity should be with oneself," he reflected, noting that identity is an evolving and fluid construct, shaped by interactions with the world.

Michele's thoughts on the importance of speaking up in the face of overwhelming sadness were especially moving during our talk. He emphasized that, for him, cultural resistance is more than just an act of art; it is part of a larger way of life, a refusal to accept oppression in any form. He put it, “It’s about not allowing oneself to disappear in the face of overwhelming grief… It is even more necessary and meaningful to do something rather than shutting down and shutting up.” This resonates strongly with the heart of Amwaj's mission and the importance of their work. For many of the young choir members, singing in the face of adversity is not seen as something light-hearted or inconsequential, but in their collective expression, it is an act to preserve their cultural heritage.

Michele emphasized the great impact of their tours in Europe, where they spread a message of humanity, solidarity, and resistance against prejudice. “The choir understood how powerful and important it was to be in Europe... to carry a message that fights the prejudice that people have,” he said, emphasizing the need of amplifying Palestinian voices in spaces where stereotypes and misunderstanding abound.

Michele and I talked about how music—especially when it contains words—becomes more than just sound; it is a conduit to the heart of the audience, challenging societal norms and confronting political forces. By using song to communicate meaning, the choir can have a profound effect and speak truth to power while establishing a strong bond with their audience. The work of Amwaj, particularly during such a critical time, exemplifies the strength of Palestinian identity, not only fighting external forces but also confronting internal battles of despair and hopelessness, which threaten to stifle creativity and expression.

Michele stressed the importance of artists not falling to despair, saying, “It’s about challenging oppression, not shutting down activities, and certainly not staying silent.” This resonates with the challenges faced by Palestinians, particularly those in the diaspora, who navigate external injustice while also battling to maintain their creative spirit. Michele believes that acknowledging suffering and despair is insufficient; there is a fundamental responsibility to actively oppose, create, and persevere, especially in the face of overwhelming grief. His statements reverberate the thesis's core themes—how music can navigate, reshape, and assert identity in the face of oppression and how creative expression can be used for individual liberation and collective survival.

Michele shared his witness of being in Palestine and that the complexities of identity are magnified when one is immersed in a continuous fight for justice. In this environment, identity is constantly renegotiated—an ongoing process of reflection, adaptation, and resilience. He also noted how cultural institutions like Amwaj continue to work as an artistic and social initiative to carry a weighty narrative, challenging the misconceptions about Palestine. As Michele pointed out, many Europeans were surprised to learn that Palestine has not only hospitals but also music schools and choirs, shattering the stereotypes that often diminish Palestinian humanity. The choir members, acutely aware of the importance of their position, embraced their responsibility with pride, realizing that their music carried not just a cultural message but a powerful resistance. He also described a moving moment from one of their concerts in Brussels in February 2024, when a woman, who had recently fled the genocide in Gaza, approached the choir in tears. She expressed her intense emotional response to their performance, perceiving it as a message of solidarity with Gaza and the larger Palestinian struggle. These moments of interaction assure the importance of their work: the choir members were not just sharing their talents but challenging the misconceptions about Palestine.

This conversation confirmed my view that the fundamental duty of artistic expression, particularly in times of evil, is to continue and give voice to the silenced. This insight expands on the thesis's exploration of how Palestinian music, particularly through collaborative and cross-cultural efforts, serves as a vehicle for resisting cultural oblivion and shaping an identity that is both rooted in tradition and evolving in response to contemporary struggles.

Michele gave a profound comment on resilience, drawing from a recent article by Omar Barghouti, where he encountered a quote by the British Pakistani author Nadeem Aslam. The quote, "Despair has to be earned. Personally, I have not done all I can to change things. I haven't yet earned the right to despair," resonated deeply with him. He went on, "If every one of us could internalize this kind of spirit and say, 'Before I despair, I have to try all I can to make things better, to challenge things too,' and then, when all fails, that's okay—I can despair."

Michele found this perspective to be obvious and strong, supporting a mindset of perseverance in the face of adversity. His words illuminate a fundamental concept in my research: resistance is not passive but needs active participation, and despair is a choice that comes only after exhausting all efforts to bring about change. For Michele, the act of continuing to work, to create, and to resist is in itself a rejection of despair and a commitment to the possibility of change, no matter how harsh the conditions. Michele's emphasis on the value of community was evident when he spoke about the role of collective music-making. "That's how we should do it: be with everyone while we are making the music, rather than isolating ourselves in our boxes," he said, urging the importance of inclusivity and solidarity, particularly during times of crisis.

Michele’s last words, inspired by Nadeem Aslam's philosophy, resonate deeply within the context of Palestinian resistance. He expressed hope for the future, encouraging people not to give up and to unite in their efforts to bring about change. "It's not just a matter of dreaming; it's about what one wants for oneself and the freedom one wants to express things," he said. This aligns perfectly with the vision of Amwaj: an initiative that insists on the importance of cultural and artistic expression. Michele’s belief in the power of art to shape identity, and foster unity—a continual act of resistance through culture.