Patrons of Palestine
Abdel Mohsen Al-Qattan and his son, Omar Al-Qattan © David Sandison
Neither as iconic as nearby Bethlehem, nor as evocative as some of the other Old Testament cities on the West Bank, the small and somewhat slapdash-looking town of Ramallah is, for better or for worse, the seat of the Palestinian Authority. As such, over the past few decades it has amassed the trappings of a de facto administrative capital, including ministries, an international presence, companies, donors, NGOs and a cultural scene that is enjoying something of boom.
In a region facing so many practical difficulties it may seem strange that culture has achieved a measure of prominence. Yet visitors to the territory need to look beyond the unruly urban sprawl and often derelict infrastructure to see the burgeoning art market, with several commercial galleries having recently been launched alongside new dedicated art venues.
For the AM Qattan Foundation, one of the driving forces behind the boom, it is a matter of supporting Palestinians by another means.
“When we started the culture and arts programme in 1999, people were laughing. They said what a waste of money. Why don’t you go build a hospital? [But] look at it now,” says Omar Al-Qattan, the foundation’s chairman and son of its founder and president, Abdel Mohsen Al-Qattan. “What else are the Palestinians proud of? Are they proud of their technological achievement? No, they’re proud of their culture because of this.”
The Qattan Foundation, which chiefly supports culture and education in the Palestinian territories but is also active elsewhere, was set up during the 1993 Oslo accords that led to the creation of the Palestinian Authority.
Salim Tamari, a respected public intellectual and head of the Institute for Palestine Studies in Ramallah, explains the increased interest in culture: “The Palestinians came late to the scene. They realised after Oslo that they had to challenge the Israeli attempt to undermine our cultural heritage and that we had to use it to build a future Palestinian state.”
Nothing symbolises Palestinian cultural aspirations like the newly-finished Palestinian Museum, sitting next to Bir Zeit University just north of Ramallah. Its opening in May stirred mixed emotions when part of the international press and some in the Palestinian cultural scene focused more on the fact it was empty, than on the achievement of having built a gleaming, state-of-the-art cultural facility in adverse circumstances.
On a hill across town, in the western neighbourhood of Al-Tireh, another cultural and educational hub is taking shape. This is where the Qattan Foundation is building its new headquarters, a cultural centre on a scale that raises eyebrows in Ramallah. Its dedicated art exhibition space alone will rival that of the Palestinian Museum. It is also to contain an auditorium, a library, accommodation for artists in residence and other guests, a café, gardens and more.
The Qattan family and its foundation bestride the Palestinian cultural scene like a colossus (full disclosure: my wife is the guest curator of the foundation’s Young Artist of the Year Award). They are deeply involved too in the $28m Palestinian Museum for which they are one of the major funders. Omar is chairman of the family’s foundation and of the museum. Yet, the investment of the Qattan Foundation is not mostly in stones and mortar, it is in people and to aid the building of more institutions.
In London, where the Qattan Foundation was first registered and where both Abdel Mohsen and his son are based, the foundation has also carved out a highly visible position in the Palestinian and Arab cultural landscape. It has the Mosaic Rooms venue on Cromwell Road, west London, a short walk from Abdel Mohsen’s home near Holland Park. It organises the annual Edward Said lecture with the London Review of Books, and it helped develop London’s Shubbak Arab cultural festival, started by Boris Johnson when he was the city’s mayor.
Sitting in his office above the Mosaic Rooms on a sunny September morning, Omar, a convivial 52-year-old award-winning film-maker, is clear about what drives him: “If you asked me why I got involved in film-making, always the underlying reason is that I want to liberate Palestine.” It still informs what he does, he says. He elaborates that by liberation he means equal rights for all either in a one-state solution or a federation.
When we started the arts and culture programme people were laughing. But look at it now
Born and raised up to the age of 11 in Beirut, before escaping the Lebanese civil war by going to boarding school and university in the UK, Omar’s life reflects the diaspora experience of many Palestinians, albeit the wealthier ones.
His father had been studying in Beirut in 1948 when Israel was founded during what the Palestinians call al-Nakba, the catastrophe. Years later, conflict drove him from Beirut and then again from Kuwait during the Iraqi invasion of 1990.
Abdel Mohsen founded the family fortune with a construction company in Kuwait, where he had been recruited to teach and where he worked at the Water and Electricity ministry in the 1950s.
Reclining against some cushions in his spacious central London home, the elder Al-Qattan, now 86, mixes modesty and pride when talking about his success: “I put all my efforts in the company in the beginning and when the oil came we were ready. Very few were ready.”
His wife Leila, who passed away last year, was a teacher and a constant inspiration for the family to engage with culture and education. “Always I have dreamt of doing something for my country, education, culture — something. My wife was a great assistant to me in that,” he says.
Over the years, the family gave to many causes, including hospitals, housing and study grants, and in 1983 Abdel Mohsen was one of the founders of the largest Palestinian independent charity organisation, the Welfare Association, now called Taawon, Arabic for co-operation. Taawon is also the organisation that built the Palestinian Museum in Ramallah.
It is a subject close to the heart of Hanan Ashrawi who was a leading figure during the first Palestinian intifada, or uprising, against Israel in the 1980s and for many remains the international face of Palestine. Nowadays she heads the department of Culture and Information of the Palestine Liberation Organisation. “A nation is not just stones, not just infrastructure, not just private sector, it’s the people,” says Ashrawi, older now but as fiery as ever, at her office in Ramallah. “I believe it’s our right to enjoy a thriving culture, cultural activities, educational activities and so on.”
I didn’t build it for a legacy. I built it because it’s a duty and also it’s a pleasure to do it
Like Omar and Abdel Mohsen, she links culture and education to the ability of the people to overcome adversity as well as to building the nation and to advocacy for the Palestinian cause. The latter is a particular interest of Ashrawi’s. The diaspora has a role, she says, “not only an economic role, but also an advocacy role. It’s also a matter of representation and challenging the prevailing narrative, which is quite distorted and stereotypical and racist in many ways.”
While many Palestinians in the diaspora give to charity and profess deep feelings for their ancestral homeland, not all have the means or the inclination of the Al-Qattans. The occupation, the unsettled conditions in the Palestinian territories, the unpopularity of the Palestinian Authority and the split with the fundamentalist Hamas organisation in Gaza also fuel a reticent attitude to charitable giving.
It is a reluctance that sometimes exasperates her. “I tell them, look, the Palestinian cause has its own integrity. It has its own value as a human cause. Don’t diminish it by fragmenting it into narrow political games and self-interest and who’s right and who’s wrong and who’s corrupt and who isn’t.”
Omar acknowledges that it is not always easy to get his peers to contribute, particularly towards culture, but he points at the museum as a sign that things are changing.
“It did attract a lot of mostly Taawon members to fund it very generously and quite trustingly in a way because this was very high risk and it continues to be high risk.”
That risk is neither fanciful nor quantifiable, as Laura Hartz, director of Germany’s Goethe Institute in Ramallah, found out.
“We ran workshops for the museum staff and other cultural staff and one issue we addressed was loaning and shipping. We surveyed some big insurance companies in Germany and no one would insure the kind of territories or circumstances that you have here,” she says.
She co-operates with the Qattan Foundation and is very appreciative of the approach it takes. “What I like about Qattan is that they’ve built long-lasting relationships with individuals whom they support and work with,” she explains. The work that the foundation does in programme development and capacity building is what distinguishes it from many others who put up “shiny new buildings”, she says.
Yazan Khalili is a Palestinian artist and interim director of the Khalil Sakakini cultural centre in Ramallah. He is clear where his preference lies when applying for funding. “Applying to Qattan feels for me like you’re speaking to someone who understands,” he says. Now, however, there is widespread concern in the cultural scene that the new building, along with the museum, will soak up most of the funding.
In London, Omar says he is keenly aware of such concerns, although he also puts some of the talk of dominance down to jealousy and resentment. “I’d have to say that if others would like to create something, nobody is stopping them,” he says.
Abdel Mohsen concurs. Emphasising that he turns 87 in November, he is amused when asked if the foundation and particularly the new building are meant to preserve his legacy.
“I didn’t build it for the legacy. I built it because it’s a duty and also it’s really a pleasure to do it. Then if people consider it a legacy it’s OK, they can do it.”