3 December 2011 | Civil Peace Service Gaza
On Saturday, 3 December 2011, the Israeli navy harassed Palestinian fishermen and international observers three miles off the coast of Gaza.
Between 10:00 and 11:00 am, two warships repeatedly charged a group of seven hasakas, one trawler, and the Civil Peace Service Gaza boat Oliva.
by Lydia de Leeuw
2 December 2011 | A Second Glance
It’s 6.30am when Ahmad’s fishing boat leaves the Gaza City fishing port. Together with his three nephews and a friend, he will stay at sea for 48 hours, trying to catch as many fish as possible within the Israeli-imposed 3 nautical-mile limit.[1] Ahmad (Abu Mahmoud) Sha’ban al-Hissi turned 60 a week ago and has been working as a fisherman since he was 18 years old. As we look back and see how Gaza City becomes smaller and smaller, Ahmad speaks about the hardship he has faced in his four decades as a fisherman: “The sea is like a prison. We can’t move here freely. Our entire lives have become like prisons.”
“Later, you will see the soldiers shoot at the fishermen”, adds Subeh, the captain of the boat. Subeh estimates that at 10 o’clock we would witness soldiers shooting at fishing boats from their navy vessels. Subeh is constantly checking the radio and horizon for signs of approaching navy vessels. As we come nearer to the area where the navy vessels patrol, packs of cigarettes and chewing gum are being consumed at a higher speed. The men chew and smoke through all of the stress and anxiety they feel. “The fear is always with us when we are at sea,” says Subeh. “Our lives are in danger at sea.”.
Even within the three-mile limit, fishermen are regularly harassed, assaulted, arrested, and sometimes even killed. Since the beginning of this year, 32 fishermen were arrested and 5 were injured, while at least 20 boats were confiscated. Late last December, Ahmad, Subeh, Fayez, Yassin and 2 others were arrested from the sea by the Israeli navy at night. They men were treated roughly and taken to a detention facility in Israel. The following morning they were transported to the Gaza Strip. However, their boat remained confiscated for nearly 100 days, making their financial situation even worse than it already was.
While the men describe their memories of the arrest, we are around 2 nautical miles off the shore. An Israeli gunboat starts to follow us from behind as we are heading south. After a while, the vessel goes away again. Soon after another navy vessel takes over; it seems we have entered another military zone. All the men keep their eyes locked on the navigation equipment and the horizon, checking where the Israeli navy vessels are and in which direction they’re moving. Subeh focuses at least as much attention on Israeli naval boats in the area as he does on the sonar which can detect fish and objects under water.
When we are nearly 3 nautical miles off the coast, an Israeli gunboat in the vicinity starts firing warning shots in the air and sounds a sirene. We see how it also chases small fishing boats, with its waves almost capsizing one of the tiny vessels. Alarming and panicked messages come in through the radio from those fishermen. As we watch the different army vessels chase, harass, and threaten fishermen in the entire area, Ahmad and Subeh explain the different types of weaponry and soldiers each boat has on board. Apparently the one chasing us is a gunboat with snipers on board, the type of boat from which they say snipers have shot fishermen before. This job these fishermen are doing can hardly be called fishing. Gaza’s fishermen have become like fugitives in their own territorial waters.
I genuinely wonder what, if at all, the soldiers on top of the army vessels are thinking. What do they see when they look at the fishermen? Do they see threats or military targets? In any case, the soldiers look like ridiculous clowns in their military gear on their big steel vessels, chasing the fishermen on tiny boats.
Beyond human insecurity and fear, there is the crippling financial impact of the naval blockade.[2] Ahmad recalls that before this limitation in 2007, he “could earn 100 to 200 NIS[3] per day as a fisherman. Now we can each only earn around 50 NIS in two days at sea.” According to the Fisherman’s Syndicate, around 60% of the small fishing boats and 22% of trawler boats in the Gaza Strip are not used because of the high risks involved and the limited catch.
After two hours at sea the first catch gets hauled onto the boat; different types of fish, crabs, and and a lost octopus wriggle and squirm atop the deck. Ahmed, Yassin, and Fayez stare at the catch in disappointment. Knowing the answer I still ask them if this is a good catch. They all shake their head. “This is useless,” says Fayez. Him and the others kneel down to start sorting the catch. The Gaza waters are clearly overfished within the three nautical miles but no fisherman in the Gaza Strip has the option go beyond.
While the soldiers on the nearby army vessels are still busy doing what they believe is a military job, Yassin cheerily starts to grill some fish on top of the hot engine. After flipping the fish over a few times he generously puts several roasting hot fish on a piece of bread and squeezes out a lemon over it. “Sahteen!” he says with a big smile as he hands me the most special meal I have eaten in a while. A moment of true happiness within a situation of absurdity and infuriating madness.
Even though my country, the Netherlands, has a rich heritage and culture of fishing, I have never paid real attention to it, let alone joined fishermen on their boat at 6.30 in the morning. Looking at the fishermen as they repaired the nets, rinsed the catch, sorted the fish, baked calamari on the engine, and joked over a cup of coffee, I felt mesmerized the entire day by the beauty of their profession.
Once again my perception of the Gaza Strip comes together in one word. Extremes:
Fishermen quietly catching some fish within a dangerous militarized sea;
Small fishing boats being chased and rocked by large navy vessels;
And the beautiful sight of dolphins jumping from the water while soldiers shoot bullets through the air.
I try to imagine this happening to Dutch fishermen off the western shore of the Netherlands, but I can’t. Nothing about this situation seems logically acceptable for my brain to take in. The passive and active violence practiced by the Israeli occupation has no rational explanation. Ahmad tells how the Israeli policies towards the Gaza Strip became harsher, also at sea, when soldier Gilad Shalit was captured and says that “now they have Shalit back, so they must open the sea.” It seems that he has internalized his fate of being the target of collective punishment as logic: one Israeli soldier is captured, 1.7 million civilians in the Gaza Strip will be punished. Only it never seems to work the other way around; 1 soldier released, 1.7 million people getting their rights and dignity.
[1] For the past two decades Israel has gradually shrunk Gaza’s fishing waters through increasing access restrictions, imposed as a result of the Oslo agreement and in more recent years through the illegally and unilaterally imposed 3-nautical mile limit.
[2] Gaza’s economy is already crippled by the severe import restrictions and ban on exports. The fishing sector –with 8,200 fishermen and workers providing for 50,000 dependents- is one of the few from which Palestinians in the Gaza Strip would be able to make a living, if it wasn’t for the 3 nautical miles limit. By 2010 the fishing catch had decreased by 37% compared to 2008 and this amounted to only half of the 1999 fishing catch.
[3] 100 NIS is the equivalent of approximately $26.
by Radhika Sainath
30 November 2011 | Notes from Behind the Blockade
The Israeli navy violently seized two Palestinian trawlers in Gazan waters yesterday, shooting one fisherman in the arm, and ultimately forcing at least ten men to Ashod, Israel, where they were interrogated for several hours. Israel released all of the fishermen at 2 a.m. this morning.
Twenty-eight year old Nehad Mohamed Rajab Al-Hesy reported that his boat, along with six others, were fishing in the same area at about 11:30 a.m. Tuesday morning when he suddenly saw five Israeli naval ships—three large and two small—approach his boat, along with that of Omar al Habil. According to Al-Hesy, both men had sued Israel for destroying their boats in the past.
“The Israelis told four boats to go back to Gaza. All six boats tried to pull up their nets, but they prevented us. The Israelis started to shoot at us a lot and I got shot in the arm. The bullet entered and went out of my arm,” he added holding out his left arm wrapped in white gauze and bandages.
The Israeli navy then asked who was in charge of the boat and Al-Hesy answered that the boat was his. Next, the Israeli navy commanded him to take off his clothes, jump into the sea and swim until he reached the Israeli naval boats, then asked the three others—Mohamed Rajab Mohamed Al-Hesy, 18, Jarrimal Jehad Rajab Al-Hesy, 22 and Mohamed Jehad Rajab Al-Hesy, 19—to do the same.
“It was a terrible thing. It was a scary thing,” said 22-year-old Jarrmal. “Now we are all sick from the cold water they forced us to swim in.”
Once on the ship, Al-Hesy was blindfolded and Israeli forces tied his arms behind his back and forced him to sit in a painful position for several hours. “My back, shoulders and my arm that was shot were hurting a lot,” he said, “but I was thinking about my boat which my family depends on for income.”
In Ashod, Israeli forces began questioning Al-Hesy at 5 p.m.
“Why did you break the 3 mile limit?” an Israeli soldier asked him.
“During Oslo, we were allowed to reach 20 miles so why do you prevent us from going past 3 miles? These 3 miles not enough,” Al-Hesy responded.
“I’m not the Israeli army,” the soldier responded, according to Al-Hesy. “But there is something wrong with you. Why don’t you fishermen gather and ask the United Nations and go to the human rights centers so you can go more than 3 miles?”
The soldier subsequently changed the subject of the interrogation, asking Al-Hesy the names of the policemen working at the port. When the interrogation finished, Al-Hesy was told that he would be sent back to Gaza, but he refused to go without his boat.
He explained how in 2003, the Israeli navy took his boat along with about $10,000 worth of equipment. He told the soldier “All my family depends on this boat. We can’t live without this boat. If I don’t go back I can eat and drink here. If I go back without my boat I will not eat.”
When Al-Hesy saw the other fishermen he told them he wouldn’t go back to Gaza without his boat. The other fishermen agreed to do the same and refused to get on the bus to the Eretz border crossing. Israeli forces eventually forced all the fishermen on the bus.
Al-Hesy and the other men were eventually released at 2 a.m., but his trawler, along with that of Omar al Habil, remains in Israeli custody. Al-Hesy has been fishing since he was 13 and makes about 20 shekels a day, or $5.70. He recalls making 1000 shekels ($285) when Israel permitted fishing up to 20 miles. In addition to sustaining a bullet wound to the army, Al-Hesy also had scabs around his right ankle from the ankle cuffs.
His lawsuit stems from an incident in 2007 when the Israeli navy destroyed another boat of his. That case is still ongoing.
“We fishermen never do anything bad. We don’t send rockets from our boats, we don’t touch any of them, but they kill fishermen, arrest fishermen; they took so many boats.”
by Nathan Stuckey
30 November 2011 | International Solidarity Movement, Gaza
Today, Tuesday, November 29, 2011 is the International Day of Solidarity with the Palestinian People. This day commemorates the racist and colonialist proposal of the United Nations to partition Palestine in 1947. All over the world, people stood in solidarity with the Palestinian struggle today. In Beit Hanoun, today, like every Tuesday for the last three years, the popular struggle raised its voice against the occupation. Against the no go zone which surrounds Gaza, which makes the refugees of 1948 and 1967 who live in Beit Hanoun refugees once again, the no go zone which throws them off their land and destroys their houses and orchards. Against the siege on Gaza which is designed to destroy them, their hopes, their dreams, their economy, their future. Under the unceasing gaze of observation balloons and drones, in the shadow of a giant concrete wall studded with gun towers which seem to come out of a futuristic horror film but which is in fact is the present and is no movie, it is Gaza. Against the occupation which can only remind the world of George Orwell’s prediction of what the future would look like, “a boot stamping on a human face, forever”.
We gathered in the shadows of the ruins of the Beit Hanoun Agricultural College, not 100 meters away from the graves of the Beit Hanoun Massacre of 2006. The Beit Hanoun Local Initiative, the International Solidarity Movement, and Palestinians from around Gaza gathered to march into the no go zone. We were buoyed by the knowledge that around the world today people were raising their voices in support of Palestine, in support of peace, justice and freedom. The megaphone crackled to life, “We Will Not Go Down” by Michael Heart. In a sea of flags from around the world, Palestine, Ireland, Italy, India, Malaysia and many others, we began our march towards the no go zone.
We enter the no go zone and begin to release balloons with Palestinian flags attached to them. The balloons will float over the walls that surround Gaza, they will take our message farther than our megaphone and our voices can. Perhaps they will be caught in the branches of an orange tree planted by the fathers or grandfathers of the men gathered here, on the land that they were expelled from. There is no risk that they will be caught in the branches of orange trees before they cross the wall, all of those trees have been bulldozed by Israel when it created the no go zone, the zone of death which surrounds Gaza. In the short story “Men in the Sun” by Ghassan Kanafini some Palestinian laborers die in a water tank while waiting to cross a border. The driver of the truck is left lamenting, “Why didn’t they say anything” as they died. We are not silent, even if are voices are lost in the space of the dead zone which Israel created around Gaza, these balloons will carry our message to the outside. Let no one say that they did not know, that we did not say anything while Gaza is strangled to death.
Sabur Zaaneen from the Local Initiative spoke to the crowd. He called upon the people of the world “to isolate Israel internationally and to exert pressure in all its forms until the end of the occupation of Palestine.” Radhika Sainath from the International Solidarity Movement also spoke, “Today the entire free world is against the settlements, the wall and the Israeli occupation. We will continue our work in Palestine with Palestinian activistsuntil we succeed in bringing freedom and justice to Palestine.” Their voices were echoed by the chanting of the crowd, against the occupation, voiced demanding peace, justice and freedom, voicing pledgingsteadfastness in the struggle to the end the occupation.
by Ruqaya Izzidien
29 November 2011 | Al Akhbar English
Despite Israel’s blockade on building materials entering the Gaza Strip, local entrepreneurs have come up with a way to turn destruction into reconstruction by recycling rubble into construction material.
The bedroom of Nasser Abu Said features two-meter holes punched by Israeli rockets and his front door is splattered with deep gashes from the nail-bomb which clawed his garden apart and killed his wife. The staircase is half-collapsed, there is no roof and involuntary windows have cropped up all over the house, each one marking the entry of one of the nine bombs that hit his home, meters away from the eastern border with Israel in the Jahr el Deek neighborhood. This is what a shelled house looks like in Gaza.
The Gaza Strip experiences frequent airstrikes which have targeted every form of infrastructure over the last few months, leaving destroyed farmland, factories and houses in their wake.
Israel forbids Palestinians in Gaza from importing building materials, obstructing their ongoing attempts to repair damage caused during the 2008-2009 war. Add to this continuing destruction caused by regular, if unpredictable, bombings that rain down on Gaza and it becomes seemingly impossible for Palestinians to reconstruct buildings destroyed by Israel since the siege came into effect in 2007.
However, a stroll through central Gaza City makes it clear that Palestinians living in the coastal enclave have resorted to ingenious and defiant methods in order to keep Gaza’s homes and businesses running. It is known as ‘rubble recycling.’
The area east of Gaza City is littered with stone-crushing factories that are identifiable from the huge clouds of dust that hang over them. These factories buy rubble from bombed out buildings, crush it down into pebbles and refashion them into new bricks, allowing Gaza to be rebuilt, in spite of the ban on construction materials.
Younis Aboul Foud was one of the first entrepreneurs to found a stone-crushing plant, or kassarat in Gaza. He began crushing rubble 25 years ago, “We even used to import stone and crush it into all sorts of bricks, but now importing such materials is banned by Israel. Today, recycling rubble into building blocks is our only option; there is no alternative and no other construction materials are available to us.
Three weeks into November, the Israeli authorities allowed a rare shipment of construction materials into Gaza, but the recipients were hand-picked private organizations or businesses. Although Israel permitted an average of 800 trucks into Gaza over the last three months, this is around 16 percent of the construction material that crossed into Gaza between 2005-2007, before ‘Operation Cast Lead’ and the need to reconstruct the 18,000 homes that were damaged or destroyed in the offensive.
The few building materials that enter Gaza are only permitted for use by recognized international agencies, while regular citizens have no access to the 800 trucks that enter and no opportunity to reconstruct damage caused by repeated bombings. Even civilians who qualify for assistance from the United Nations Relief and Works Agency (UNRWA), say they are told that their home is not ‘damaged enough’ or wait months or years for their houses to be rebuilt.
23-year-old Khalil Elzaneen began rebuilding his home in the north of the Gaza Strip one year ago using bricks he bought from the kassarat stone-crushing plants. “There are no stones in the country to construct bricks, so they have to be made out of rubble. The borders were completely closed and until today there aren’t building materials in Gaza. Even the cement had to come in through tunnels.”
Elzaneen and his family could no longer live in their old home, which suffered day-to-day wear and tear, exacerbated by frequent bombings that weaken the structure of many of Gaza’s older buildings. “You can’t stop people from acquiring the materials they need to live, however hard you might try.”
Ban on Construction Materials
Israel maintains that the blockade of the Gaza Strip is necessary for state security and that construction materials are prohibited because militants could use the cement and stones to build hideouts.
Khalil Elzaneen disputes this, “Every restriction they impose on us is to do with ‘terrorists.’ I really don’t think that this is what the construction materials are used for; Israel is simply punishing an entire population. Look around you, you can see that we don’t use the bricks to build hideouts for terrorists; we use them for constructing homes and civilian buildings.”
Kassarat factories have created an exclusive and highly-coveted amount of building materials in Gaza. As with any other market, these fall into the hands of the most affluent amongst the community. Along with factory-owners, businesspeople and NGO-workers, political parties and armed groups are able to raise funds when a building they own is destroyed. As a result, the ban on construction materials – and the blockade in general – affects most the poorest residents of Gaza, who cannot pay the escalated price of up to US$10 per cement block.
From the Ashes
Some see other advantages to rubble recycling that have a deeper message than simply making a living, “Israel doesn’t want us to rebuild, that is why it is important that we do,” explained Aboul Foud. He sees his means of earning a living as an act of defiance against Israel, using their airstrikes to bring new life to bombed bricks. “In spite of their attacks and the blockade, we will keep recycling rubble and making life from nothing, making life from rubble.”
Khalil Elzaneen explained, “Even if I am told not to rebuild, I will still continue to do whatever it takes to survive and that, to me, is a form of resistance.”
But recycling rubble is far from idyllic. Fahd Daghmoush runs a rubble-crushing plant east of Gaza, which employs young men to break down the larger pieces of rubble so that they are digestible for his machinery. His employees work surrounded by powdered rubble and dust. “You can see that it is very dangerous to be crushing these stones,” he explained, “it is going to affect our health in the future and maybe even shorten our lives.”
Daghmoush entered into the business of recycling rubble out of compulsion, “If I could do absolutely any other job, I would; I don’t want a job that damages my health. I used to be a construction worker, but these days there is no work and I’m too old for that anyway. Hopefully by manufacturing bricks from rubble, I am creating jobs for the younger people who struggle
as I do.”
There is also a depressive cycle associated with refashioning building materials from rubble, the bricks are simply in rotation, like a currency. In order to have new bricks for your own house you have to wait for someone’s home to be bombed.
Fahd Daghmoush explained, “He who builds his house here puts his sweat and blood into it, laying stone after stone. When it becomes rubble, it is devastating and personal for him. People here put everything they own into building their homes. But life has to continue and we have to bounce back.”
But using the resources available to you is not optional in Gaza, Younis Aboul Foul explains. “We use all of our resourcefulness against this siege to challenge those responsible. Gaza is resilient – every way which we pick ourselves up is miraculous. Everyone has a right to live, and that’s all we want to do, whatever it takes,” he says.
The majority of recycled rubble is used to create the standard half-meter blocks that overwhelm the Gaza Strip, particularly in the refugee camps that are identifiable by their gray, piled cube signature. But a small amount of granite is reused for decoration and calcium carbonate is powdered down to provide Gaza with talcum powder, make-up and whitewash.
Palestinians in Gaza have defied the ban on construction materials since the siege began; turning what was once a blooming trade into a necessary business required in order to rebuild the territory. It is a bittersweet industry, but in besieged Gaza, nothing can afford to go to waste.
