19 May 2012 | International Solidarity Movement, Gaza
Ten Palestinian volunteers harvested wheat in Gaza’s northern no-go zone on Wednesday, May 16, only 350 meters from where the Israeli Apartheid wall encircles the Gaza Strip. Two weeks ago the barley was cut and gathered and on Wednesday, volunteers loaded the harvest onto donkey carts to transport it for sorting, in the face of Apache helicopters, tanks, and F-16 fighter jets.
Palestinian farmers harvesting barley near the no-go zone in Gaza despite risk of Israeli army attack.
The work began at approximately 8:45am in northern Beit Hanoun, and immediately an Israeli tank became visible on a distant hill. A few minutes later, a helicopter circled above and would remain there for three hours. At 9:10, a number of jeeps patrolled the border and by 11:30, one of the Israeli outposts fired 8 shots at a point slightly further than the farmland. Over the next hour, a total of around 30 shots were fired from the same outpost.
The volunteers offered to help the owner to farm his land, due to its proximity to the Apartheid Wall. A distance of 300 meters to the border is considered the ‘no-go zone’, in which the Israeli Government prohibits farming. Even farmers outside the no-go zone, however, come under regular fire simply for their proximity to the Wall. Volunteers from the Beit Hanoun Local Initiative team farmed for six hours, joined by International Solidarity Movement volunteers.
The team of volunteers successfully finished transporting the barley despite the military presence.
Hama Waqum is a volunteer with the International Solidarity Movement.
23 April 2012 | International Solidarity Movement, Gaza
For more photos click here
Today we went farming with the family of Ahmed Saadat. We arrived in Khuzaa at about 7 AM and met Ahmed. He told us that the Israeli’s had already shot at his family when they went to their land to begin work. We went to the land, which lies 300 meters from the border and directly on the buffer zone. You immediately know the buffer zone, nothing is planted in it, no trees are left, and everything has been destroyed, only weeds grow there.
Ahmed and his family began to work, ten people on their knees harvesting wheat by hand. To harvest the wheat they pull it up by the roots and tie it into sheaves to be taken to a threshing machine. The land is quite large, in the past perhaps they would have hired a combine to harvest the wheat so that they would not have to do it by hand, but now it is dangerous to bring equipment near the buffer zone. Now, they work by hand.
At about 7:45 AM an Israeli Occupation Forces Humvee pulled up onto a hill north of us. Soon shots began to ring out, these were not directed at us, they were directed at farmers harvesting wheat to our northwest. At about 8 AM soldiers in a tower next to the Humvee launched either tear gas or a smoke grenade, it landed extremely close to the tower, which was about 400 meters from us. This was soon followed by shooting at us.
Bullets whistled past our ears, they slammed into the ground around us, most of them about 20 meters away from us. The farmers were scared, but most of them kept working. They have little choice, the IOF shoots a lot in this area, it is inevitable that they will be shot at while they try to harvest their wheat. After a minute or two of shooting the bullets stop. Soon the Humvee drives down off of the hill and moves further down the border. All morning long the Humvee drives up and down the border, accompanied by two jeeps.
The farmers continue to work harvesting wheat. At about 8:30 Ahmed receives a phone call. It is from Ma’aan organization. They say that the Red Cross has called them asking Ahmed and advising him to leave the area. He is advised to go two kilometers from the border because of the danger. The Red Cross had been called by the IOF asking them who we were, and if we were internationals with the farmers.
Ahmed laughs, two kilometers is the other side of Khuzaa. The farmers continue harvesting their wheat until about 11 AM. While they work chmed tells us a little bit about his family. Like most Gazans, they are refugees. His family is from Salame, near Jaffa. They were expelled in 1948. His family still has the documents proving that they own the land they were expelled from. Now, his family works what land they have managed to buy in Gaza over the years.
He said, “What am I to do, Israel expelled us from our land, now they steal more of it, they shoot at us, but we need this wheat to live, we must continue to work our land.”
Israeli soldiers have already started shooting onto the land along the border of the Gaza Strip. Two injured just in the first two days of the harvest.
Renad Salem Qdeeh, 33, was collecting he crop from her land when Israeli soldiers started shooting, at around 7.30am or 8am. The other farmers managed to escape, but Renad started screaming as she was hit in the head while standing about 800 meters from the border. She was rushed to a hospital in Khuza’a and received ten stitches for her wound. We now come to find her lying on the bed.
“First they took away 300 meters of land, and now we can’t even work within 800 meters of the border, they’re trying to throw us off our land”, her mother – who can’t hold back her anger and pain – tells us.
“We need to earn a living for the sake of our families”, continues Renad’s mother, “we wait all year long for the harvest period so that we can earn our living. My daughter has eight children, she has to feed them, we have no other income. They won’t let us live on our land. We are asking for help and protection, so that the Israeli army will stop shooting at us.”
“We are surrounded by soldiers, they shoot in all directions. Yesterday a boy was wounded in Khuza’a. Where are our human rights?”
Renad closes her eyes. She is surrounded by her relatives. We are offered some fruit juice. Everyone tries to talk to us and tell us about their specific circumstances, every one of their voices is a cry for help.
“Tomorrow I’ll go back there to continue the harvest”, Renad’s mother says. “We will keep going back to our fields even if it means that we could get killed. What’s a mother supposed to feel when she sees her daughter bleeding? The soldiers had every intention of wounding her. After they shot her, they just left – they had just wanted to shoot her.”
“We’ve already lost most of our land. Now we risk death even at a distance of 800 meters from the border. They want us to go away. No, we’re going to die here!”
Renad’s relatives believe that the Israeli soldiers have been dumping chemical contaminants onto their land. Sometimes they smell something funny, but they’re not sure what it is.
“Other countries can help us if they choose to,” intervenes Renad’s sister. “Without protection we cannot work our land.”
“They confiscated 300 meters of land all along the border of Gaza, do you realize how much land that is? It used to all be fertile land, now it’s all destroyed.”
The No-Go-Zone imposed by Israel on 300 meters all along the perimeter of Gaza, and which has left some farmers without any land at all, was imposed by Israel unilaterally.
The following day we accompanied some farmers right into that No-Go-Zone. On the first day, the Israeli soldiers watched us without shooting. Jeeps drove past us at high speed, and the soldiers positioned themselves on the small watch towers along the border, while others stood behind a small hill. It’s from behind the hill that the bullets come for the most part.
A couple of days later, however, matters changed. Soldiers positioned on the hill opened fire despite our presence there with the farmers. We shouted into our megaphones and asked them to stop shooting, and reminded them that we were on Palestinian land. At that point I switched on my video camera and filmed what happened next.
On the third day, the soldiers watched us without shooting. There was a constant flurry of armored vehicles and jeeps driving past at very high speed. The farmers are more afraid of the jeeps than of the armored vehicles, and they fear the military hummers most of all, because on top of the hummers you’ve got guns set up and ready to shoot.
Basically it is a case of an army against farmers. Soldiers who don’t hesitate to shoot unarmed men as they go about harvesting their crop and as they carry it away on donkey-pulled carts. All the while as this terror is going on, F-16s hover at low altitude.
The farmers were able to work on the third day and they thanked us for our presence.
The day that Renad was injured, Hassan Waled Shnano, 27, was also injured. Except he wasn’t working in the fields. He was simply walking to work, in Khuza’a, in an area that’s about 2km from the border, not far from his house. We met him in the European Hospital in Khan Younis. “It’s a residential area, a safe area. They started shooting very early in the morning”, Hassan told us. Hassan works on various education-related projects in the NGO Mercy Corps in Khuza’a. A missile hit him right in the joint of his right leg.
His father, who had inhaled white phosphorous during Operation Cast Lead, died of cancer. Hassan has five brothers and one sister. He is married with two daughters. One of his brothers was also injured in 2006 at the age of 15, as he was walking home from school.
This morning soldiers opened fire again at the farmers were trying to work in the fields of Khuza’a. We accompanied the farmers into a new field close to the one where we had been going up to now. Despite the sound of bullets in the air, the farmers just went on working, comforted by our presence with them.
Bullets were also flying in the adjacent field – the one where Renad’s family farm. I shuddered as I watched the soldiers shoot. My hear trembled with every damned shot, I wanted to cry as I thought that maybe someone had been hit by those bullets. In the other field the soldiers did not stop shooting at all until after all the farmers had gone home – after having been prevented from collecting the crop under a shower of bullets. I took the following film this morning as soon as the soldiers first opened fire.
Every morning we will come back to Khuza’a to accompany the farmers, until the harvest has been completed. The farmers keep thanking us continuously. I respond by thanking them – I feel like I should be thanking them. They have no idea how lucky I feel to shake their hands, to look into their eyes which go on smiling despite everything. They have no idea how fortunate I feel to be able to defend their right to basic life.
Rosa is a volunteer with International Solidarity Movement.
To accompany the fishermen of Gaza on their boats, as human shields to protect them, it provides not only an account of human rights violations by Israel, but also the feeling of what it means to live under siege in the Gaza Strip.
Since January 2009 Israel has unilaterally imposed a travel limit of three miles inside the waters of Gaza, which , according to the Jericho Accords, should extend up to 20 nautical miles from the coast. A 3 miles limit is actually illegal.
Israeli navy seals are stationed along this 3 mile boundary, attacking anyone who attempts to go beyond and often attacking the fishermen’s boats well within this limit.
As international observers of the boat “Oliva CPS Gaza” monitor the human rights violations by the Israeli army in the waters of Gaza, we have witnessed many attacks which took place also within two miles from the coast.
Within three miles the fish are not enough, and the waters are often contaminated.
The fishermen, especially all those who sail with the “hasakas,” or local small boats, come back often with nearly empty coffers.
Just over two weeks ago, we left during the night with a fishing boat which headed south from Gaza to Rafah, making a couple of stops to pull the nets (and two stops on the way back) and keeping within two nautical miles from the coast. After hours and hours spent at sea consuming gasoline, we brought home a few small boxes with small fishes and some shrimp. The fishermen can hardly survive on what they earn from a night at sea, also considering the cost of gasoline.
Other fishermen prefer to stop at 2-2.5 miles from the coast and to fish remaining stationary. In this case they can fish more sardines, often of very small size. In order to fish more in quantity and quality, the fishermen should be able to reach at least 4-6 miles from the coast.
While I was accompanying the fishermen on their boats, the Israeli navy attacked us generating waves and shooting.
I recorded a video during one of the latest attacks:
In this case our vessel was around 100/150 meters away from the three miles limit.
On Monday we went out at sea again with the same vessel. We stopped to pull the nets before reaching the three mile limit. Given the scarcity of fish and because the waters were visibly polluted, we decided to move forward going to 3.5 nautical miles from the coast.
The Israeli navy started to turn around us. The soldiers kept switching on and off the headlight of the ship. With the headlight off, the Israeli navy ship was invisible in the darkness.
We could no longer see its movements, we could not know if it was close and if so, by how much.
But we could feel the waves generated by the navy ship.
Bravely enough, the fishermen kept on pulling up the nets in a hurry. I and 3 other internationals placed ourselves in a visible position wearing yellow jackets. The Israeli navy suddenly appeared pointing the headlight towards us then vanished without lights.
At a certain stage the Israeli navy ship approached shooting in our direction. A soldier yelled into the microphone, “Bring up the anchor or I will bring you to Ashdod” (the Israeli Navy often arrests the fishermen of Gaza within or beyond the three miles, taking them to Ashdod, in Israel, and confiscating their boats. The fishermen are usually released after one day, but without their boats).
The soldiers kept firing in our direction. The other internationals and I raised our arms shouting and requesting to stop the shooting.
The captain of our boat decided to go back. We stopped at 3 nautical miles from the coast before returning to the port of Gaza City around 6.30 AM.
This time the boxes were fuller of fish and the fishermen were visibly happy. I smiled. I was pleased, and at the same time I was worried of potential retaliations and targeted attacks towards the fishermen when we were not on their boats.
At sea to be able to fish only 100 meters further can make a big difference.
Some fishermen try to go beyond the boundary of this prison, to be able to earn something more to support their families. To go beyond the three nautical miles means to face Israeli army. The Israeli army against a few fishermen.
Soldiers who do not hesitate to shoot against barefoot unarmed men intended to pull the nets in the waters where they are entitled to fish. This is the siege of Gaza.
I am honored to accompany these fishermen so brave and dignified.
Their eyes speak of their suffering, but at the same time express all their strength, and they pass it on to me.
Tomorrow we expect another night at sea, and many others, sharing with them the cold and the food, the fear and the courage, and the hope to bring back home a little piece of freedom.
Rosa Schiano is a volunteer with International Solidarity Movement (name has been changed).
18 April 2012 | International Solidarity Movement, Gaza
April 17th is Palestinain Prisoners Day. All over Palestine demonstrations were held in solidarity with the approximately 5,000 prisoners still held in the occupations jails. Bait Hanoun was no exception, this week the weekly demonstration against the occupation and the no go zones were in support of the prisoners. The residents of the prison that is Gaza demonstrated in solidarity with the residents of the other Israeli prisons.
We gathered on the road in front of the half destroyed Bait Hanoun Agricultural College. There were about 50 of us, members of the Bait Hanoun Local Initiative, the International Solidarity Movement, other international activists, and a small group of local high school students who had just got out of school. We could hear the drone of jets overhead. We raised our banners and flags, began to play music over the megaphone and started to walk down the road into the no go zone. At the edge of the no go zone we paused, a bucket of paint was produced and we all marked a banner comparing the Gaza Ghetto to the Warsaw Ghetto with our finger prints. As we did this a giant white observation balloon began to rise over the wall in front of us.
The balloon completed the picture of Gaza as a prison, surrounded by no go zones where Israel routinely kills anyone who enters them, its air filled with drones which routinely murder people, its sea patrolled by Israeli warships which fire daily at fisherman trying to feed their families, even a giant underground metal wall under the border with Egypt. Israel is proud that it does not have the death penalty, but it would be unnecessary in any case: trials are not considered necessary precursors to the murder of Palestinians.
From the extrajudicial executions carried out by drones in Gaza to the murder of Palestinians in Israeli custody, such as the Bus 300 affair, to the “confirming the kill” murder of an already injured 10 year old Imam Darweesh Al Hams, to dumping sick prisoners by sides of the roads in the to die like Omar Abu Aruban, Israel kills Palestinians without the need of courts, not even the need of courts like the apartheid courts of Israel with 99.7% conviction rates for Palestinians.
We raised our banner again and continued to walk into the no go zone into land where Israel has already declared we need no trial, where the death penalty has already been approved for us. We walked through the shoulder high thistles that have grown up in place of the orchards that used to grow here, that obscure whatever stones might mark the houses that used to be here before Israel ethnically cleansed the area. We walked on paths that we had worn on our previous demonstrations. We walked until we reached the ditch that bisects the no go zone.
Saber Zaneen from the Local Initiative of Bait Hanoun said “We would like to welcome Hanna Shalabi to Gaza. We will contine to struggle until all of our prisoners are released. We will never forget our prisoners, Khaddar Adman, Mustafa Bargouthi, Aziz Dweik, Ahmed Saadat, and many others. They will never be forgotten.”
A Polish activist spoke when Saber was finished. “We are here today in solidarity with the Palestinian prisoners, their sacrifices for freedom inspire us all.”
As we made our way back to Bait Hanoun we paused by the edge of the no go zone. We sat down by some giant concrete blocks which we had painted with Palestinian flags in an earlier demonstration. Abu Isa began to sing. He was singing songs for the prisoners. A cameraman kneeled in front of him, filming while Abu Isa sang. While everyone in the circle clapped in time, Abu Isa leaned forward and began to play the drums on the metal helmet of the cameraman. Everyone began to laugh, even the cameraman had a big smile on his face when he got up. We were all alive, still trapped in the prison that is Gaza, still living under the occupation, but still human, still able to laugh. Israeli prisons have failed just as surely as the “Break Their Bones” strategy did at crushing the Palestinian struggle for freedom. Israeli prisons are brutal places of torture, bad food, and denial of family visits. But prisons also serve universities for the struggle, a place for people to learn more about how and what they are fighting for. Hundreds upon hundreds of thousands of Palestinians have gone through Israeli prisons. They were marching with us today.
Nathan Stuckey is a volunteer with International Solidarity Movement.
