Discipline

With the state of the mainstream Western media, both currently and historically, it feels like a small miracle that Discipline, the first novel for adults from the accomplished YA author Randa Abdel-Fattah, has been published. In reality, it is due to hard work, grit and solidarity – something the author herself mentions in the book’s acknowledgements.

In Discipline, the lives of Abdel-Fattah’s two main characters deliver what she calls ‘a cautionary tale about the cost of silence and cowardice’. The novel is an exploration of the systematic oppression of Palestinian and Muslim voices, and asks who gets to tell which stories and at what cost?

Set in Western Sydney, we follow Ashraf, a middle-aged academic whose ex-wife has moved to Aden to embrace her faith, taking their two children with her. Ashraf is a complex character torn between protecting himself and recognising change needs to happen. He lives alone in an apartment, and his social life seems restricted to university functions and WhatsApp calls and texts with his two daughters.

Meanwhile, Hannah is a young journalist, a new mother and the only Muslim voice at The Chronicle, a national broadsheet. Hannah is enveloped by community, family and life. Her world feels overwhelming: the WhatsApp messages; the expectations; and the pull and tug as she and her husband Jamal, who is one of Ashraf’s PhD students, navigate their daily lives.

Abdel-Fattah’s use of internal monologue for both Ashraf and Hannah throws into sharp relief the disparity between what we might think and what it feels possible to say, offering a poignant reminder of the burden of continual self-censorship. All the characters are touched, if not consumed, by the ongoing genocide, trauma both old and new, racism, and the repercussions of speaking out – or not speaking out.

Discipline is an important book, and a reminder that we all need to read between the lines: dig deeper to get the story; stray from our algorithms; ask questions; speak up; support and give space to diverse and oppressed voices; and turn towards hard truths, not look away.