Bil’in Outpost World Cup Party

by Martin

The Bil’in out post has for the last six months been a “thorn in the side ” of the occupation. Located on the part of Bil’in land that’s going to be stolen by the annexation/separation wall it in it self makes a stand against the land theft.

It has also served as a appreciated home for the many internationals who alongside local Palestinians keep a around the clock presence there to protect it from “accidents” such as arson.

Now the out post ads yet another dimension. A satellite dish a TV and a generator has turned it in to a outdoor living room and every night for the next month it’s going to be packed with football lovers from Bil’in, and from all over the world.

So join us in the fight against the apartheid wall and the land theft while enjoying a game or two of world class football. And while you’re there, why not spend the night out in the beautiful nature.

Not that interested in football? No problem, we offer other forms of entertainment also. Just the long faces of envy on the evening patrolling soldiers make the trip worth while.

Reposted: “Sleeping in the Bed of a Suicide Bomber”

This journal entry is being reposted because of the current imprisonment of Paul Larudee, the 60 year old piano tuner and ISM peace activist that Israel is currently trying to deport. The article was written at a time when ISM was focused on a campaign of living in the homes of the bereaved families of Palestinians who had carried out suicide attacks on Israelis. This was done because the families’ homes were under imminent threat of destruction by the Israeli military, no matter how much the families themselves may have been opposed to the attacks. This Israeli policy of collective punishment only multiplied the violence, as ISM volunteers constantly pointed out would be the case, and it was also a violation of international law. This practice was finally halted by the Israeli military in February 2005, with the admission that it also hurt Israeli interests. The ISM has always condemned violence that targets civilians, be they Israeli or Palestinian.

By Paul Larudee, Septmber 2002

The young wife of Amer Nabulsi (not his real name) had a special way of coping with his death. She decorated their room with pictures of children and young couples, valentine hearts, teddy bears, and other irrepressibly cute images. Some were happy, a few sad, and others in love. Some were cut from magazines; others were posters, cards or stickers. To these images she added her own words and symbols.

I sleep in their room, so her artwork surrounds me every morning and evening. Much of it is in Arabic, which I don’t read very well, but the tears and broken hearts drawn with marking pens speak clearly enough, as do the few English words, “I love you and miss you.”

The reason I sleep here is that she has fled the house, along with most of the family. Out of a total of ten family members, only Amer’s parents are here, along with me and other members of the International Solidarity Movement from the U.S., Ireland, Italy, the U.K. and other countries. Israeli authorities have threatened to demolish the house, despite the fact that it is a war crime to do so. The Fourth Geneva Convention, to which Israel is a signatory, outlaws collective punishment of entire families or communities. We want to try to prevent this from happening, or at least put up nonviolent resistance.

No one knows for sure why Amer chose to become a istishhad (one who martyrs him/herself). By Palestinian standards, he had every reason not to. He had a job, a home, a car, a loving wife and daughter. While not wealthy, he did not have to worry about becoming needy.

Furthermore, his mother and father consider suicide bombings to be immoral. They are deeply devout Muslims, but are among the vast majority who believe that any form of suicide is against Islam. They spend much of their time reading the Koran and praying. In spite of this, or perhaps because of it, they are quite liberal by local standards, and highly tolerant. Their youngest daughter wears jeans and wouldn’t be seen in the hijab, or traditional head covering, and her relation with her fiancé is anything but traditional, with her parents’ blessing. Amer’s father cannot talk for long about him without tears welling up in his eyes and his face being transformed by grief.

What led Amer to put on a vest of Semtex and cause his flesh to be scattered by its explosive force? Part of the reason might be the anger that he must have felt when his father suffered brain damage from a beating administered by Israeli forces. Mr. Nabulsi’s left side was left partly paralyzed and he now speaks with difficulty, as if he had had a stroke. Still, that was seven years ago. More recently, a friend was killed in a car that was destroyed by Israeli gunfire. His family also reports that he was strongly moved by both the news and personal reports of the Israeli invasion of Ramallah in early March, 2002, and especially the siege of the presidential compound.

However, such experiences are common to most Palestinians, and do not necessarily make them suicide bombers. What was the difference in Amer’s case? I can only speculate, but it may have been the strong sense of moral right and wrong, of justice and injustice, that his parents instilled in him. It permeates the family, and can be seen as they drop by for meals and conversation with their parents, in which I am invited to share. The small children get plenty of love and patience, but no indulgence. Even the slightest disciplinary action comes with a moral
dictum, however brief.

It may be that Amer simply grew impatient with the injustice he saw around him. Perhaps it was the daily humiliation at the ubiquitous checkpoints, where Palestinians pass only with the permission of the soldiers on duty. Perhaps it was the increasing sight of Israeli settlements, built on confiscated Palestinian land, on the hilltops surrounding the city. Perhaps it was the arbitrary arrest and/or assassination of thousands of “suspects” by Israeli security forces, the use of torture, now considered legal in Israel, and the unlimited detention without charges. Perhaps it was the refusal to allow him and 3.3 million others in Gaza and the West Bank to worship in Jerusalem, the holiest city in the country to all religions. Perhaps it was the diversion of water resources, the deaths of ambulance patients at checkpoints, the bulldozing of olive and fruit orchards, or the construction of settler roads, which Palestinians are permitted neither to use nor cross.

I have been with the family for two weeks now, and it is time to go, although our group will continue to maintain a presence at this and other homes, as the situation warrants. When the Israeli occupation forces choose to commit war crimes, they prefer to do so away from the eyes of international observers. I would have stayed even if the family had been a misanthropic group of wild-eyed fanatics, because a war crime is a war crime. However, they are kind, generous, and courageous, and we have bonded during my stay. We kiss each other on the cheeks and exchange contact information. They invite me to come to their daughter’s wedding. I promise to call.

Suicide attacks against innocent noncombatants are also a war crime, and Amer’s family is right to condemn them. However, I do not see wild-eyed religious fanaticism as the reason for the attacks. I see instead a resilient people without other means of resistance, pushed to desperation by the increasing pressures of ethnic cleansing, while their cries for help are ignored.

Bloody Friday: 10 killed in Gaza massacre, as shelling, sonic booms continue

By Leila Al Haddad

Just as I’ve made my way back to Maryland USA, getting ready to write a post about how my stint on Democracy Now went this morning, I learned that 10 Palestinians have been killed by Israeli shelling in northern Gaza as they were picnicking on the beach. 3 of them were children-two under the age of two. And their mother. And forty others wounded. We called my Aunt, who works with the al-Awda hospital in northern Gaza. She was hysterical, and this is a woman who seldom loses her grip.

She just spoke of blood and body parts, and how one of the cameramen at the hospital couldn’t hold it together and dropped his camera as he was filming after he heard a bloodied, battered girl crying out for her father.

I feel so useless being here in the United States, so impotent and angered, and I just want to cry and scream at once. After a week of energizing talks, in which I really felt I could contribute a little bit by informing people this happens.

My aunt also said the dreaded Sonic Boom Attacks had resumed and that Israeli air crafts were beginning to shell areas of Khan Yunis, in al-Qarara. And just last night, I was talking about how the sonic booms, under pressure from human rights organizations, had seemed to cease-albeit without official declaration. I spoke too soon.

The horror continues, and the main headline on Yahoo’s sidebar? “Hamas to resume attacks in Israel.”

I guess that answer’s Amy Goodman’s question to me this morning: “How do you think this all is being conveyed in the media?”

Sunbula’s Journal: “Normalised Occupation”

Saturday May 27th: I have returned to Ramallah. I feel a little worried I’m getting used to certain things I shouldn’t really be used to. When I was coming back in the taxi from al-Quds/Jerusalem, driving through Ar-Ram and Qalandia, the Wall is alongside us on our left, and separates people’s homes from stores and vice versa. The sight of the Wall, the fucked up Qalandia “terminal” – it’s not occurring to me anymore to describe or write about these “small” things because they don’t seem to me to be anything worth noting anymore. They’ve become “normal”. I don’t know whether to be happy or sad, whether this means I’m “stabilizing” or getting more numbed in regards to the situation. But I’m reminded I do need to write about these small things. Like I wrote in my last trip, getting into the West Bank from Jerusalem is much easier than vice versa. Still part of the road to Ramallah is blocked off for no ostensible reason and we had to drive through the side roads. The Qalandia “terminal” is still as messed up as ever, still the soldiers barking orders through microphones, sitting behind windows in cubicles, still metal revolving gates and sanitized apartheid. It’s getting really hot here now as well and the sun is pretty strong. When I was going back to Jerusalem a few days ago, we had to get off from the shared taxi to walk through this “terminal”. A young woman with a baby asked in a somewhat sarcastic tone, can’t people with small children stay on? Unfortunately not.

Because of getting asked by every single new person I met, I decided to take out my nose and lip ring. When I was putting my bag into the back of the shared taxi at the stand in Jerusalem one of the drivers recognized me and starting telling me how much better I looked and how happy he was to see much without the piercings. Yay, victory for gender conformity and heterosexism.

Our friends in the Tel Rumeida neighborhood of the old city in Hebron/al-Khalil are getting stoned, spat on, assaulted almost daily by the little kids of fanatical ultra rightwing Jewish settlers who deface houses with slogans such as “gas the arabs” and yet when they do this the supposedly law enforcing Israeli police just looks the other way. The most pathetic thing is they send their children to harass Palestinians, because the army/police won’t arrest minors under the age of 14. Talk about cowards.

There were lots of PA security forces of different kinds on the streets of Ramallah today. I just read that Israel has allowed transfer of light arms to forces loyal to Mahmoud Abbas – talk about local enforcers of the occupation. Between all the different kinds of Palestinian Authority and Israeli occupation forces, I’m getting a little confused.

I visited Birzeit yesterday where I will be taking Arabic classes later on and liked the look of the place, it is really pretty and a small village, quiet and green unlike noisy bustling Ramallah that reminds me more of neighborhoods in New Delhi (not that that’s a bad thing). I’m looking forward to being based out of there though and living in a more quiet green area, plus its only about 20 minutes (and 3.5 shekels ie less than $1) from Ramallah. The people that I met in the program were nice, seemed on top of their stuff, but somewhat condescending and power-trippy, kind of like at Columbia – birzeit is supposed to be the “Harvard of Palestine” whatever that means, maybe it’s a similar complex. I detest hierarchies and power in general, if I could only get rid of my own personal dependence on them sometimes. I didn’t really like the way they intimidated me about my level of Arabic and made me feel like my Arabic education was inferior to theirs (funnily, my professor in the US said the same thing about them!) and told me to review for the “placement test” which will decide which level of Arabic I can be in. Blah, blah. I met another international student from Japan and sat with her and a Palestinian student. He was really nice to me and gave me friendly advice to not tell anyone if they asked me my religion that my mother is Jewish because: a) there are some folks around who don’t distinguish between Zionists and Jews, unfortunately; and b) the Palestinian security forces monitor international students at Birzeit for spies and saying something like that would make them more suspicious. I’m not saying it’s the right thing to do, but probably a wiser thing.

Walking back to the ISM apartment in Ramallah, I bought Ghassan Kanafani’s story “Returning to Haifa” in its original Arabic. I had read it in English this semester for a class on Israeli and Palestinian literature I took that was awesome. It’s short enough that I think it’s a reasonable reading project in Arabic. Everyone should check out his writings for the best of Palestinian resistance literature, especially this story.

I was also taken out to a nightclub in Ramallah and got to observe from close quarters members of the occupied Palestinian upper class. Seeing people dance to reggaeton in the occupied territories was an interesting and amusing experience. It was something light and fluffy that I felt I needed for a while. Let’s see what the next few days bring. Distilled excitement, hopefully.

Q: What if you live in Tel Rumeida and you have a heart attack ?

A: You die.

By Shlomo Bloom

I had a pretty bad case of stomach flu for the last few days and was reluctant to even try to go to the doctor because it meant leaving Tel Rumeida on foot, as Palestinians are not allowed to drive cars here. Not even taxis, buses or ambulances. The entrances to the neighborhood are blocked off by checkpoints and roadblocks. Settlers are, of course allowed to drive cars, buses, taxis, ambulances and can leave the neighborhood through settler-only roads that Palestinians are not even allowed to walk on.

I had decided it might be better to just stay in bed than to try to walk out and catch a taxi but then some friends came over and told me they had a car parked at the roadblock outside Tel Rumeida and would take me to the hospital. It was at night so the temperature outside was not so dreadfully hot and I decided it might be a good idea to at least get some fresh air.

As we were walking to the roadblock, about a quarter of a mile away from where I live, I asked my friend “What happens here when someone is really sick and cannot walk to the checkpoint or to one of the roadblocks ?” He told me that they have tried to call for ambulances to come in here but they are not allowed. Last year his uncle had a heart attack. They had to carry him out to the checkpoint where an ambulance was waiting. But by the time he got to the hospital, he was already dead.

So that was the answer to my question.

Some observations about this Palestinian hospital:

At first I was reluctant to go at night because it meant going to the emergency and stomach flu was not an emergency and I didn’t want to get in the way of people who were really sick, but my friend said, no it was ok and not to worry. I was expecting to wait like 4 hours like you do when you go to the emergency at night in the United States. What happened when I got there shocked me.

I literally did not even sit down in the waiting room. I was seen immediately but two nurses and a doctor. They did a blood test and gave me an injection. I was in and out in about 40 minutes (the blood test took half an hour to process).

Total cost for an uninsured foreigner ?

$10

This is of course if you can make it out of the Israeli controlled part of Hebron into the Palestinian controlled part without dying first.

So, Americans.. you go to the emergency with no health insurance, get a blood test and an injection.. I think it would be safe to say that you can count on paying minimum $400 for this. This is democracy ! We can give billions of dollars to Israel and spend God knows what on a war in Iraq but we cannot afford to give all our citizen health insurance.