Who gets to be seen and who doesn’t? Which forms of expression are acceptable and which are shunned? Palestinian-German artist Mudar Al-Khufash examines the insidious mechanisms of settler colonialism, not as a past event, but as a structure that continues to shape everyday life. Bridging the worlds of fine arts and critical theory, he investigates how violence rooted in settler-colonialism prevails in the structures of power and heteronormativity, using theatre, performance, and teaching.
Recent events within and beyond the art world point to the persistence of these structures. Gabrielle Goliath’s performance Elegy, dedicated to Palestinian poet Hiba Abu Nada, was withdrawn from South Africa’s Pavilion at the upcoming Venice Biennale, reaffirming which lives are deemed worthy of public mourning. At the same time, a September 2025 study by the Free University of Berlin reported that 76% of German scholars have self-censored their work on the topic of the genocide in Palestine and the Israeli occupation. Like gender or class, settler colonialism constitutes a restricting force for how we are seen and move in the world. With the keffiyeh, the traditional Palestinian scarf, banned within schools in the German capital, we see how settler colonialism functions not as a historical condition, but as a continuing system of control.
Al-Khufash’s ongoing project, Dialectics of Erasure: Settler Colonialism in Three Acts, examines these dynamics through repetitive gestures, routine, performance and choreographed movement, inviting the audience to investigate and actively participate in revealing the mechanisms sustaining the everyday performance of settler colonialism. Ahead of his upcoming shows in London, we spoke with Al-Khufash about his recent performances at the Berliner Ringtheatre, his evolving role as an artist, and how the systems of oppression cross gender and race.
Maggie Kuzan: You work across a variety of mediums, combining art with activism and pedagogy, while conducting a PhD research at the University of Groningen in the Netherlands. Tell us about your influences. What made you transition into the field of theatre and performance?
Mudar Al-Khufash: I wouldn’t say I transitioned[into theatre and performance, but I was rather experimenting with how to share knowledge that I’m interested in. During my Bachelor’s degree in Design and Visual Communication, I became more interested in Critical Theory and Art Production, which led me to start taking classes in Cultural Studies at Humboldt University in Berlin. When I graduated, I began two Master’s programs simultaneously: one at the University of the Arts Berlin in a course titled Art in Context, with a focus on Art in Public Space and Moving Images, and one in Cultural Studies at Humboldt University. It became natural for me to combine critical theory and art production. That’s why I’ve had awhām magazine (an anti-orientalist, feminist, queer non-profit platform and publication dedicated to telling migrant stories from a decolonial perspective) for the last seven years, sharing knowledge through a variety of mediums. I arrived at performance through lecturing, which, in itself, is a performance: standing and sharing information. I realised I could explore the format of the lecture itself, too, incorporating participatory, quiz-like elements and focusing on method and performance. It became relevant to me because it allows me to bring text, image, sound and people into one space and to work with time and the present in a more direct way.
MK: Let’s focus on your current project. Dialectics of Erasuretakes the form of a public audience intervention, followed by a performative lecture and discussion. Could you tell us more about the selection process behind the acts? In the recent case of your Berlin performances (16.04-19.04.26), the Spree riverbank served as the site of this immediate spatial intervention.
MA: The first act tries to situate the participant within a site of erasure. In the 2025 London research and development edition, this act was so powerful because it took place on the street where Naji Al-Ali was assassinated (Palestinian political cartoonist shot dead on Ives Street, Knightsbridge, London in 1987). However, I didn’t want to be working solely dependent on a fixed location. I wanted to free myself from these logistical and conceptual constraints so that the piece could move between cities. For the Berlin performances, I was thinking of spaces that convey visibility and regulation, where people are also constantly circulating. What are you allowed to display in public? The Berlin Spree is a highly visible and regulated area, and the bridge itself is non-visual, where activists have again and again placed banners. In a sense, it’s controlled. I wanted that tension to be there – being in public, asserting presence and space, and dealing with it. I wanted to observe how people interact with each other, how they decide which course to take, and how to move within that site of erasure. For me, the condition of erasure is not limited to one place but is a structure. The project sets up the conditions under which that erasure can manifest.
For me, the condition of erasure is not limited to one place but is a structure. The project sets up the conditions under which that erasure can manifest.
MK: You have dubbed Dialectics of Erasure an ‘experiment’. What discoveries have been unveiled to you throughout this research investigation?
MA: I was doing my Master’s degree during my research stay in London, in the winter of 2024 until summer 2025, so I basically graduated when the genocide in Palestine began. It was a very difficult moment for me as a person, an artist, a scholar. I had to ask myself whether it was a meaningful time for art production. This really led me to reflect on my responsibility and what I’m capable of doing within my locality, scope and capacity. I started to think whether my writing could be seen as a counter to that violence, a refusal to be erased. That’s where it all started, in a sense. During my studies, I was very much into everyday performance, so, in a way, I intersected this with settler colonial studies. I was interested in treating settler colonialism as a performance, which allowed me to look at it through the perspective of aesthetics. Who are the main actors? What does the stage look like? What choreographies exist? How is movement restricted and controlled? There are specific images that we associate with Palestinians – throwing stones, being arrested – which I mention in my performance. I was thinking about how breaking out of these choreographies, out of this imposed time or space, could itself be considered a form of resisting violence and erasure. I researched case studies, such as Naji Al-Ali’s murder, and thought about memory and how the body itself could be a repertoire for knowledge that is being consciously erased. Even cartoons can get you killed. We saw during the genocide how artists, scholars, teachers were intentionally assassinated because knowledge, art, and cultural production are essential. So this is where it all started. Bringing people to that site in London was extremely powerful. We were anchored in that feeling, in that thought, in this idea. So this is what I mean by ‘experiments’: I’m trying to respond to how people react when placed within a structure that positions them not only as observers or spectators.
So this is what I mean by ‘experiments’: I’m trying to respond to how people react when placed within a structure that positions them not only as observers or spectators.
MK: Yes, in your performative lecture, you state that ‘embodied memory is knowledge that lives because someone does it… the archive can be burnt, but the repertoire demands presence.’ By incorporating audience participation in your performance, you heighten the sense of urgency to act and the duty that comes with individual responsibility. What role do you see the audience playing in these performances? What do you hope to achieve?
MA: For this edition of the project, I really needed to let go of anything that might come across as gimmicky. There is no designation of roles, and I just throw people together. I give the audience broad guidelines and let them decide how to react. I try to create that situation of erasure, put the people in it, and then see how they would react. I wanted to put them in a specific mindset or feeling in the group. Part of it is also confusion, irritation, disbelief, and then entering the space of these feelings as a collective. Once we’re inside [the venue for the performative-lecture act], the project is revealed to the audience. I know it works because of people’s reactions and feedback – some of the reactions are precious data! I don’t want to reveal too much, but it’s a powerful tool that we’ve tried out here in Berlin.
MK: You also shared a startling statistic that there are now more people living in the Palestinian diaspora than ever in the Palestinian nation. Estimates suggest that Germany holds the largest Palestinian community in Europe, yet the country has been frequently enabling the repression of voices for Palestine, with a state crackdown on solidarity marches, and criminalising pro-Palestinian and anti-colonial sentiment a commonplace occurrence. Therefore, your project sheds light on the paradox of Palestinian representation and identity in Berlin, a city that has rebuilt itself on the promise of “never again”. While the UK overall is predicted to have fewer Palestinians than Germany, it has equally assaulted the public’s right to free speech, with expressions of solidarity with Palestine often regarded as deviant or threatening to society. How did you arrive at bringing Dialectics of Erasureto London, and how have the last few years influenced your work?
MA: Partially, why I wanted to go to London was because I couldn’t be in Germany anymore, and I felt very alienated. Berlin is my hometown and also the longest continuous place I’ve ever lived throughout my life. It felt like it was being taken away. I was trying to be in places where being Palestinian in public is not criminalised, as it is in Germany, places which are less oppressive, such as London. In Germany, I was working within the institutional academic framework, so I wasn’t concerned about the situation becoming increasingly conflicted within institutions, specifically art schools in Berlin, because that’s where cultural production is made. That’s where most activism was happening – occupying universities, claiming public spaces with banners, posters, symbols and so on. My thesis grew out of that, and during that time within this institution, which was trying everything it could to suppress Palestinian voices or Palestinian solidarity. My thesis was really well received, and I was surprised to be told later that even an Antideutsche (a pro-Zionist “left-wing” movement in Germany) professor was impressed by my argument, unable to say anything else. One of my professors encouraged me to apply for funding – and here we are. I mean, unfortunately, it took a genocide for people to finally want to know about Palestine.
MK: It must have been a strange position to be in when these institutions are supposed to be free spaces, yet they are always the ones with the most censorship and resistance; this dichotomy. How did you find translating all that theory and research onto the stage for the immediate public, who may not have academic backgrounds but are interested in learning more about what is happening?
MA: Like I said, all my artistic productions and writing are focused on Palestine, and they are always based on research. For me, that’s where the joy comes from: how I translate such complex topics or the inaccessible language of academia into stage speech and use visuals, sound, or other media to convey these complex concepts. It’s also a thinking process – it takes me a few days to go from writing to translating to artistic production.
I do keep in mind that my audience is not necessarily academic or doesn’t necessarily possess the academic background to engage with these abstract concepts. In a sense, in this research, I have not spoken about the genocide per se, but more about how settler colonialism works in itself. You know, what we see now, or what we’ve been experiencing over the last couple of years, is just another intensification of it. It’s a structure, not a moment or an event, something that scholar Patrick Wolfe framed. I’m just using that theory to visualise this repetitive structure designed to confine indigenous people within specific time frames and choreographies.
The project is constantly developing. That’s why I combine these elements – the scenography and the Inszenierung, as we say in German – and use them all to convey that knowledge. Yet I also know that the experience itself is meant not only for people to think, but also to feel. So I try not to give a clean conclusion. I prefer for people to go home and think, reflect, and do their own research as well. Bringing it to the stage is really that joyful moment when I see how the process that started with thoughts transformed into text, then into research, and finally into artistic production, all coming to life through working with other people.
MK: Arguably, there is far more pro-Palestine visibility and acceptance from arts institutions in London than in Berlin. How have these factors influenced how you see the project in this location?
In London, the consensus leans more towards Palestine, and I can imagine people working within the institutions are in support of the Palestinian cause. But I still do believe that pressure remains in the UK, yet perhaps at a more institutional level. The participatory elements might therefore appear differently, yet the logic will stay the same, as I see it as a continuous process. Perhaps there will also be a different reaction from the London audience as to the visual cues, given the banning of the scarf in Germany and how that compares to the situation in the UK. I know there are a few reported cases of people being arrested in their homes for posting something on Facebook or on social media in the UK, but, honestly, this is a worldwide phenomenon. In Australia, for example, the slogan “From the river to the sea” is forbidden in the state of Queensland as of March 2026, and then there’s the German historical context, of course.
MK: And how does your queer identity intersect with being Palestinian?
MA: Speaking from a queer perspective, you always speak from the outside. Much of the work I’ve been doing over the last few years, although it counts, does not represent the traditional, masculine form of resistance. Around the world, queer movements strongly support the Palestine cause. Being on the margins, you understand oppression, the continuous condition that a lot of queer people might occupy – rejection, being censored, and marginalised. Just how trans people are now being marginalised. So you are in a constant state of needing to claim your presence, to claim your voice, to be heard, to be accepted and given equal access. As queer people, we anticipate oppression because societies are homophobic, and it has become tolerated in the West once again. I’m speaking from my position, where I experience the intersection of being queer, male, and Palestinian in Germany, and there are many challenges to holding these identities together.
Being on the margins, you understand oppression, the continuous condition that a lot of queer people might occupy – rejection, being censored, and marginalised.
MK: You mentioned there is a legacy and a travelling element to the project. Are there any specific places you would like to bring this conversation to next?
MA: I’m interested in continuity in a different context and seeing how the structure holds or breaks. Maybe another European city or somewhere entirely different, places where these questions are urgent. As I said, it’s a portable structure and not a fixed object. I’ve received feedback that it could also be applied in Colombia or South Africa. So it resonates, you know. Palestine is one group that is affected by settler colonialism because it’s very current, but many people resonate with it.
MK: Taking place just before the 78th anniversary of the Nakba on 16 May, what are your hopes for the London shows?
MA: It is timely, fitting, and I’m really curious. I’m really looking forward to having Palestinian audiences because I want to hear their feedback, what they feel and think about it. We imagine Palestinians are a monolith, yet the Palestinian diaspora in Germany is different from the one in the UK. In the UK, Palestinians are considered, broadly speaking, more affluent, with a history relating to the British Mandate, while the relations here in Germany are mostly from camps in Lebanon. The second-generation Palestinian diaspora in Germany is now a highly educated group, but also extremely and uncompromisingly political. So I really hope that, given the timing of the shows in London, people relate to this, and that more Palestinians will come to see the lecture-performance. Their feedback is very important to me.
Reflecting on the show on Saturday, the feedback was the best that we have ever had. One person mentioned that some of the scenes will stay with her forever. It really made her feel threatened on an existential level. She commented specifically on how moving and intense the audiovisual work was, specifically the scene in which we are clapping and dancing. How, while feeling really moved by it, still remains the best depiction she has experienced of fear in this kind of context. It was right at the limit of being too overwhelming. It brought her to tears. That was so powerful, hearing that it was conveying such an intense, often deeply inward and personal experience of what it means to experience this kind of overwhelming fear when your existence is in jeopardy. I don’t want people to just intellectually think about what I’m saying, but to feel it viscerally. I want them to feel the information that I’m sharing with them. Hearing that really made me think that we are aiming forward.
Dialectics of Erasure: Settler Colonialism in Three Acts is showing at the Theatre Deli in London on 1 and 2 May 2026. Tickets are available at Outsavvy.
