“We die a little bit inside us each time”: 2 more homes demolished in Bedouin village of Umm Al Kheer

by Tom

26 January 2012 | International Solidarity Movement, West Bank

Israel demolished the homes of two families in the Bedouin village of Um Al-Kheer in the South Hebron Hills last week, on Wednesday January 25th.

Demolitions in Umm al Kheer - Click here for more images

The demolition team arrived with a bulldozer at 9:00 in the morning together Israeli soldiers and police. Villagers reported a chaotic situation of shouting and screaming and extremely aggressive behaviour on the part of the Israeli demolition team, soldiers and police. A video of part the demolition was taken by the Italian group Operation Dove:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v= http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xTY_wYlzxdQ&m

An international observer for the Ecumenical Accompaniment Programme in Palestine and Israeli (EAPPI) who arrived on the scene later the same day, described hearing the news as “the message we had feared for two months.”  A video from later that Wednesday can be found on the Norwegian-language blog, showing  village residents searching through the rubble, looking for belongings.

Um Al-Kheer is a so-called “unrecognised village” of 150 people, situated next to the settlement of Karmel. Its Bedouin residents originally settled in the village after they had been forced out of the Neguib (Negev) in 1948.

One of the houses belonged to a widow and her nine children, who was left crying for their lost home. The second house was home to a young couple and their three children.

Um Al-Kheer has been repeatedly subject to Israeli house demolitions. The events of January 25th were the fourth such assault on the village since February 2007 and brings the number of Israeli demolitions in the tiny village to a total of sixteen houses and one restroom. The most recent previous demolition was in October 2011.

Village resident Eid Suleymann said of the demolitions, “We die a little bit inside us each time.”

The primary reason for the demolitions is the adjacent settlement of Karmel. Part of the Israeli excuse for the demolitions is the security of the settlers,  but residents feel that the actual purpose is to  “clear this area of people”and to expand the already-growing settlement into it. This settlement is considered illegal under international law.Only a few metres away from the village and the rubble of the house, house construction can be seen under way in Karmel. Several cranes and newly or partly built houses are clearly visible.

While the story of Um al-Kheer is one of tremendous suffering and of inhuman and racist behaviour on the part of the Israel state, it should however also be regarded as an outstanding example of  endurance and solidarity. A temporary metal shack has already been constructed to house the widow and her children. Palestinians and Israeli activists from Ta’ayush worked through the rain on Saturday January 28th to begin rebuilding of the houses’ stone walls.

Tom is a volunteer with International Solidarity Movement (name has been changed).

Beit Hanoun demonstration under fire

by Nathan Stuckey

25 January 2012 | International Solidarity Movement, Gaza Strip

Gaza was treated to a strange new sight today, not really new, but something that has not been seen in Gaza in a long time: tear gas.  In Gaza protests are not smashed with tear gas and clubs like in the West Bank, they are met with live ammunition.  In a continuation of Israel’s policy to separate the West Bank from Gaza, nothing is overlooked.  The sub-human status they wish to cement in the world’s mind when it comes to the people of Gaza is adhered to brutally.  On May 15th 2011, when over a hundred demonstrators were shot near Erez, only one canister of tear gas was fired. Before that the protesters faced live ammunition and tank fire.  In the three years that regular demonstrations have been carried out near Erez by the Beit Hanoun Local Initiative, regulars tell me that this was the first time they had seen tear gas.

The demonstration started like all the others.  We gathered near the half destroyed Beit Hanoun Agricultural College and marched towards the no go zone.  There were about forty of us, men and women together.  As always, the demonstrators were armed only with a megaphone and our voices.  Today, we planned to hike from Erez to the east of Beit Hanoun, near the site where two young men were murdered last week while catching birds and collecting rubble near the no go zone.  The no go zone, which used to be an area of flourishing orchards has been reduced to yielding rubble to recycle into concrete.

Israel bans the import of concrete into Gaza.  Only humans would need concrete to rebuild the thousands of houses Israel destroyed in the 2008-2009 massacres they carried out in Gaza.  In Israeli eyes, Gazans aren’t really full people; they are half people to be murdered at will for even thinking of coming close to the no go zone.

This is why we march, we deny the no go zone, and we deny the occupation.  The refugees of Gaza, thrown from their homes during the Nakba, want to return to their homes.

We walked down the muddy road that leads to the no go zone.  As we got close to the no go zone, the shooting began.  Shooting is not unexpected; bullets are the language of the occupation, at least the language that you hear.  Ethnic cleansing, oppression, and torture are also languages the occupation speaks, but the loudest voices of the occupation are the bullets and the bombs.  The bullets passed over our heads; they slammed into the dirt in front of us.  Then, the unexpected happened; the tear gas began to fall.  The clouds of tear gas were smaller than I remember from protests in the West Bank. Perhaps the shells are old, they are used so seldom in Gaza that maybe the inventory is old.

This isn’t an issue in the West Bank, there the protests are coated in tear gas, men are killed or severely injured by tear gas canisters shot at them like Mustafa Tamimi and Bassem Abu Rahma who both passed away, or Tristan Anderson, who survived. Women are suffocated by it, woman like Jawaher Abu Rahma.  It is fired into houses, schools, fields, villages; tear gas is omnipresent.  In Gaza, tear gas is a blast from the past, here the occupation has discarded that language, in Gaza, it only speaks with bullets and bombs.

At first it wasn’t clear if the protest would continue. People were shocked by the use of the new weapon.  Quickly though, a decision was reached: We would continue.  We walked east along the edge of the buffer zone.  Soldiers in concrete towers hundreds of meters away fired live ammunition at unarmed protesters walking on their own land–soldiers in concrete towers built on the land these protesters were ethnically cleansed from.

The black flag that flies over the occupation did not come down after the massacre of Kfar Kassem, it is still there, it is just that it has been flying for so long that no one remembers anything else. the black flag is like the sun, people do not remember a day before it was in the sky.

Walking in the no go zone isn’t easy.  The ground is uneven from the constant destruction of the bulldozers which Israel uses to make sure that nothing takes root there.  The ground is littered with the past: irrigation pipes, metal rods and concrete rubble from the destroyed houses.  Slowly all of this is ground up under the blades of bulldozers and treads of tanks.  We walked east, the shooting stopped for a bit.  Two soldiers appeared on a hill to the north, they raised their guns.  They lost sight of us behind a hill.  We emerged from behind a hill: we saw a tank on another hill.  Jeeps sped along the border.  The shooting began again.  Bullets flew over our heads.

Beit Hanoun demonstration under fire – Click here for more images

We reached the eastern edge of our prison and turned south.  Soldiers appeared again on a new hill.  Shooting resumed, tear gas canisters from 500 meters arced over our heads.  We stopped and reminded the soldiers that this was a nonviolent demonstration by people on their land.

They continued to shoot, then the soldiers on the hill began to yell at us with a megaphone, “Gazans are donkeys.”  Gazans are not donkeys, they are people, but perhaps if you repeat a lie often enough, people will start to believe, people like these soldiers.  We passed the carcass of a horse, rotting.  A donkey grazed to the east of the dead horse.  At least the donkey was still alive.

The soldiers continued to shoot at us, bullets and tear gas. Just as Gaza did not kneel after the 23 day massacre three years ago, we will not be stopped by bullets and tear gas.  We will continue to protest until the occupation disappears.  We will continue to protest until we achieve justice.  Without the end of the occupation and true justice, peace is impossible.  We will not accept the peace of silent oppression.  We will never accept the occupation.  Gaza will not kneel.

Nathan Stuckey is a volunteer with International Solidarity Movement.

In Palestine, to exist is to resist

by Melinda Tuhus

24 January 2012 | In These Times

Behind the headlines, Palestinians are using nonviolent direct action to protest the status quo.

WEST BANK, PALESTINE – On November 15, Mazin Qumsiyeh and other Palestinian activists boarded public bus number 148, an Israelis-only bus that normally takes Jews from the Israeli West Bank settlement of Ariel to Jerusalem. The bus took the group to the Hizma checkpoint, just outside the northern entrance of Jerusalem, where activists resisted authorities’ efforts to remove them. Eventually, as a camera broadcast the action online, eight people were pulled from the bus and arrested. They were charged with “illegal entry to Jerusalem” and “obstructing police business.”

Qumsiyeh hopes this recent “freedom ride” – possible because a bus driver let them ride by mistake, he said – will spark the same kind of response that its namesake did across the United States in the early 1960s, when interstate bus trips helped end racial segregation in the South. Qumsiyeh, author of Popular Resistance in Palestine: A History of Hope and Empowerment says other examples of nonviolent resistance says, include protests of the separation barrier (which many Palestinians call an “apartheid wall”) that has effectively turned 10 percent of Palestinian land into Israeli land since its construction began in 2002; school girls holding class in the street when they can’t get to their schools because of Israeli interference; and farmers braving Israeli intimidation to harvest olives. “For us to exist on this land is to resist,” says Qumsiyeh, who teaches at Bethlehem and Birzeit universities.

Most readers of mainstream media in the United States think of the First Intifada (1987-92) as the stone-throwing uprising and the Second Intifada (2000-2004) as the attack of the suicide bombers. They may have heard of the Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions movement, started in 2005 by more than 170 Palestinian civil society groups. (The movement aims to curtail benefits accruing to businesses that benefit from the occupation.) But few are aware of Palestinians’ longstanding creative efforts to use nonviolent direct action in their struggle for self-determination. Those efforts, from the tax revolt in Beit Sahour during the First Intifada to creative actions led by Palestinians like Qumsiyeh, are often supported by both international and Israeli activists. And they are proliferating.

Ghassan Andoni, cofounder of the International Solidarity Movement (ISM) and a leader of the Palestinian Center for Rapprochement between People, says nonviolent direct action by Palestinians opposed to the Israeli occupation started before the First Intifada. “Activities included throwing military identity cards issued by the occupation as a way to tell the occupier that we don’t recognize your authority and there is no contract between us,” Andoni said in an interview in Bethlehem in mid-November. “Then we stopped paying taxes and submitting monthly reports saying, ‘No taxation without representation.’”

The First Intifada also saw the creation of autonomous communities all over the West Bank. “We established our own economy to detach from the occupation,” Andoni explained. Large protest marches and solidarity campaigns were also organized with international activists and Israelis. ISM has staged “die-ins” in front of Israeli tanks, and its members have chained themselves to homes the Israeli government wants to demolish, and obstructed the Israeli army from imposing a curfew. As popular resistance among Palestinians has spread, Andoni increasingly sees ISM’s role as supporting local nonviolent initiatives.

Bil’in, a village near Ramallah, is one such initiative. Residents of Bil’in have mobilized against Israel’s West Bank security barrier. Since construction of the fence began there in 2005, villagers have staged various events. After the release of the film Avatar, with its story line of the occupation of Pandora and the rape of its resources, Palestinians painted themselves blue to look like Pandorans. On another occasion, they lugged a television to the fence and cheered their favorite teams during a World Cup tournament to show that normal life would go on.

Bil’in activists photograph and videotape every protest. “The camera is our gun,” says Iyad Burnat, who heads the resistance committee in the village. In 2011 the barrier was moved a short distance away from its initial location in Bil’in, on orders from the Israeli High Court. But much of the village remains on the Israeli side of the fence, and protests continue.

What is the ultimate goal of nonviolent action, beyond stopping the security wall and ending the occupation? “One state or two states?” is not the right question to start with, Qumsiyeh says. “The right question to ask is, ‘What is the right thing to do that will guarantee the safety and security and peace and humanity of everybody in the long run?’ Once we can agree, we’ll work toward that.”

Melinda Tuhus is an independent journalist with 25 years of experience in print and radio, including In These Times, The New York Times, Free Speech Radio News and public radio stations.

Live ammunition fired at peaceful demonstrators in Gaza No Go Zone

24 January 2012 | International Solidarity Movement


Image from Poica.org – Click here for more information
In a peaceful demonstration into the Gaza no go zone that began around 10:30am today, January 24 2012, demonstrators report that at least 50 rounds of live ammunition were fired directly at Palestinian and international solidarity activists.

Contact:

Nathan Stuckey, International Solidarity Movement activist
Phone Number: 00970597650864
Email: GazaISM@gmail.com

 

At least two Israeli soldiers have been visible on the ground, while a large military tank also took position approximately 15 minutes following the initial shooting of live ammunition.  With a momentary pause in gunfire that lasted for approximately 15 minutes, shooting of live ammunition has resumed in Gaza’s No Go Zone. At least 50 bullets have been shot thus far.

Every Tuesday Palestinians and supporters march from Beit Hanoun into the buffer zone , where the fertile land has been made inaccessible to Palestinians due to the imminent danger of violence by the guarding Israeli military, who also bulldoze land that has been an agricultural resource for many locals in the northern Gaza Strip.

Connect with the Palestinian Students’ Campaign for Academic Boycott of Israel (PSCABI)

23 January 2012 | US Campaign for the Academic and Cultural Boycott of Israel

A collective of students in Gaza has formed the Palestinian Students’ Campaign for the Academic Boycott of Israel (PSCABI). These students are seeking to expand their collaboration and participation in events and activities with solidarity activists at international universities.

PSCABI members participate in many activities here in Gaza and are heavily involved in supporting the international student solidarity movements, especially with the Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions campaigns. PSCABI members frequently write letters out of Gaza, some of which we have listed below, encouraging people to participate in the boycott and thanking people who have supported the Palestinian cause.

PSCABI members are available to share ideas, participate via Skype or other technology in remote events, organize and strategize together, hear about your activities and provide information and narratives as Palestinian university students for your distribution, and provide access to voices speaking directly from besieged Gaza.

If you are interested in:

  • communicating with PSCABI
  • hosting a Skype conference with a PSCABI member
  • developing your organization’s relationship with PSCABI

please contact us at pscabi@usacbi.org.

Past Letters from PSCABI: