Sami Abu Wardeh: The Palestinian Comic Embracing Hope Through Humor

The conflict in Gaza is a subject many find difficult to address, let alone joke about. However, for Palestinian comedians, humor has become an indispensable instrument for maintaining their spirits while loved ones endure occupation and bombardment.

"A significant portion of Palestinian solidarity events understandably focus on grief," stated British Palestinian comedian Sami Abu Wardeh. "They list the names of children and recount atrocities, leaving attendees feeling despondent. We must actively counter this."

Instead, Abu Wardeh believes comedy should offer audiences something different: a sense of unity and, most importantly, hope. "We are meant to feel sorrow and grieve. But we are the fortunate ones. We are the ones who must remain mentally resilient and persevere," he explained. "Comedy is my seed of hope."

Abu Wardeh is part of an expanding movement of Palestinian performers in the UK and internationally who are utilizing comedy to narrate their experiences of occupation, exile, and war. His latest Edinburgh Fringe show, "Sami Abu Wardeh Hates You," premiered this week, following last year's critically acclaimed "Palestine: Peace de Resistance."

Alongside Abu Wardeh, the Palestine Comedy Club is showcasing several productions at this year's Edinburgh Fringe, including the founder Alaa Shehada's show "The Bridge" and Hanna Shammas's "Takes it to Heart." Established in 2022, the collective has been instrumental in fostering a stand-up comedy scene in the occupied West Bank while also bringing Palestinian narratives to UK audiences.

Abu Wardeh did not initially intend to become a comedian. After training as a doctor and dedicating 15 years to the NHS, he transitioned to pursuing comedy full-time last year.

His comedic style, which once centered on character clowning and included his Channel 4 show "The Sheikh," underwent a significant shift following the outbreak of the war in Gaza. In June, an independent UN inquiry concluded that Israel was continuing to commit genocide against Palestinians in Gaza, citing the deliberate targeting of civilians, including children.

"Early in the genocide, I committed the cardinal sin of comedy: I turned on my audience," he confessed. After a joke failed to land, he recalls saying, "What's wrong? There's a genocide happening.' I left that gig feeling deeply upset and isolated."

Over time, he learned to better channel that anger during his performances. "My late director, Adam Brace, consistently described my comedy as dangerous," he shared. "I believe there has been a simmering anger within me for much of my life that I couldn't express. It's only in the last year or so that I've found a way to contain that fire."

He articulated that, for him, comedy served a dual purpose. "I want them to leave thinking, 'That was a comedy show.' Ideally, 'That was a brilliant comedy show.' But the second aspect, which is becoming equally crucial, is that I was truthful."

When asked what being truthful means, he responded, "I have a choice. I could go on stage and not utter a word about Palestine."

Indeed, many within the industry had suggested that simply being Palestinian was sufficient, he noted. "But if I go on stage and don't talk about it, I will be withering away. I will be a hollow shell of a human being."

This same dedication to conveying Palestinian stories through comedy is echoed by Diana Sweity, a Palestinian actor, puppeteer, and comedian from the southern Hebron region.

Sweity, the founder of the Fridge Theater mobile puppet show, is also a member of the Palestine Comedy Club, which is featured in a documentary released in UK cinemas earlier this year. The film chronicles the collective's comedians as they perform across Palestine, sharing their lived experiences under occupation and war.

When she performs for other Palestinians, there's a shared sense of understanding. "When you watch a comedy show, you feel a sense of calm. You shift your mood. But it doesn't erase the pain or suffering. It creates a blend of love and sadness in life."

While she aims to evoke laughter, she admits grappling with the subject matter on stage. "We laugh at our suffering, but it is suffering. We laugh about the war, but it is war. We laugh about what has transpired in Palestine and Gaza, but it represents the lives of the Palestinian people."

Sweity performed in Scotland last year and is scheduled to return next year. International audiences often find themselves taken aback. "They are unsure whether to laugh or cry," she remarked. "They have witnessed the war countless times on television. But this time, I present a different perspective before them."

She believes this shared experience of laughter is significant. "Laughter is a universal language. In Palestine, they laugh about this subject; in Britain or Scotland, they also laugh about this subject."

Comedy, she stated, provides people with "spirit" and helps them "maintain hope." But, perhaps most importantly, it enables Palestinians to speak for themselves, rather than be spoken about.

"We can speak about suffering. We can broadcast our voice to the world. We can share our stories," she concluded. "You tell your story to the world, and you survive."