The untold facts of the Bazar International

On Monday morning, I read the newspapers. They spoke of the International Bazar as a festive, lighthearted event.

They described the crowd, their different accents, and the sound of empanadas sizzling in the fryers. The reports highlighted the funds raised, because after all, at an event where all proceeds are donated to charitable organizations worldwide, what truly matters are the numbers.

It was also mentioned that a few individuals were standing outside the Luxexpo, holding Palestinian flags and handwritten signs. They stopped passersby to tell stories that, for some reason, did not seem relevant enough to be told. I was one of them and I'd like to tell those stories.

The Bazar features over 60 stands, each representing a different country. After a year of absence for security reasons, the Israeli stand returned this year. It is bright white, with the word Israel written in blue at the top, repeated on all four sides. Someone told me it was one of the most visible.

Nearby is the Lebanese stand, with simple tables draped in cloths and a large flag bearing the green cedar tree hanging from the ceiling. Both serve hummus.At the Israeli stand, among wine from the Golan Heights and face creams made from Dead Sea minerals, a man picks up a map of Israel. The map labels two regions with their biblical names: Judea and Samaria.

While the Israeli government uses these terms to emphasize their historical and religious significance for the Jewish people and to legitimize control over them, these areas, according to international law and the majority of the international community, constitute the West Bank – a Palestinian territory occupied by Israel since the 1967 Six-Day War. But none of this is mentioned.

The man pockets the map and moves on to the Japanese ceramics. The staff at the Israeli stand wear white t-shirts printed with a Star of David and the slogan Stand with Israel, a wordplay that does not even try to hide their stance.

During a visit inside, we pass by the Israeli stand and my friend leaves a flyer on one of the tables. It quotes Israeli Prime Minister Netanyahu saying, "I'm telling the people of Gaza: get out of there now, because we're about to act everywhere with all our strength". The flyer, almost perfectly timed, lands directly under the gaze of a woman at the stand, busy cleaning the remains of pita and hummus from the table. She does not take it well. She chases us, grabs my friend's chest, and tries to tear off the Free Palestine sticker pinned to her sweater. I intervene to stop her, and we decide to leave.

According to the representative of the Israeli stand, politics has no place at the Bazar – at least not the one that disagrees with them.

When questioned regarding the presence of the Israeli stand, the Bazar International organizers have repeatedly stated that the choice of stands does not depend on the respective governments of the countries and reiterate the neutrality of the event.

But neutrality can easily be broken by the weights of today's historical events. The very presence of Israel's stand, while Palestine was left without representation, speaks politics. It is a choice, made knowingly or unknowingly, that carries consequences, especially when the lines between politics and culture blur.

It was said that a Palestinian stand would not have been able to provide enough returns, but that cannot justify such exclusion. In the spirit of neutrality, the Bazar association could have provided additional support to those countries that expressed interest in participating but struggled in resources, rather than persist in the narrative that only countries with stronger and wealthier representation deserve inclusion. True neutrality requires active effort.

The day passes without disruptions. Inside, people continue to spend in the name of charity; outside, smiles of solidarity are exchanged. Near closing time, we, the individuals standing outside, fold the flags and as a group try to enter the Bazar, but we are turned away.

Our keffiyehs are deemed too political, our presence too risky. The organizer seems to be debating the best way to avoid censorship while also ensuring that the event continues without uncomfortable public questions about the origins of the products being sold – products that could come from illegal settlements – or about the legitimacy of the presence of a country that, for over a year, has been bombing civilians with no safe place to go, and which, within the event, perpetuates a narrative of colonialism and occupation.

The protest is permitted outside, without chants and at a distance from the main entrance, under additional security measures. Inside, charity must proceed at all costs, even if it risks becoming a form of silent complicity.

Some enter, some leave. The organizers succeed in their goal of maintaining an undisturbed and relaxed atmosphere that does not disrupt fundraising efforts. It is a success. Charity has been done for a worthy cause; consciences are reassured.

And silence – the kind that leaves oppression untouched, fueling suffering and perpetuating injustice – has also been achieved.