Volunteers with the International Solidarity Movement are encouraged to write personal reflections about the work they engage in with Palestinian communities, the events they experience, and the people they meet. These journals offer the human context often missing in traditional reports or journalism. These articles represent the author’s thoughts and feelings and not necessarily those of the International Solidarity Movement.
Palestinian children in Wadi Tiran in Masafer Yatta, threatened with murder by extremist settlers if they don’t leave their village
I am still perpetually on the verge of crying or crying most of the time. Throughout my travels in Palestine, I have learned from the wisdom of children. Children everywhere know when they are very young that their tears are not something to repress, but rather their crying out helps bring about what they are needing.
Where my Arabic and their English are inadequate to be able to communicate, playing together is a way to speak a deeper language of companionship and encounter. Our smiles and laughter together is a defiant blossoming of life surrounded by the threat of life’s extinction.
Last week a young child kissed my hand and put it to their head. I didn’t know the most appropriate way to respond.
But forty miles away, a new acronym has had to be created for children just like her, WCNSF, wounded child, no surviving family. Everything I do, even if I stay up through the night to keep watch so a family can sleep more soundly, still feels so inadequate in the midst of such catastrophe.
More than 10,000 children have been killed in Gaza in these last 100 days. Surrounding Gaza there is a fence, and armed guards ready to shoot anybody who comes near it, keeping them from coming to me and me from going to them. UNICEF warns “All children under five in the Gaza Strip—335,000—are at high risk of severe malnutrition and preventable death as the risk of famine conditions continues to increase. UNICEF estimates that in the coming weeks, at least 10,000 children under five years will suffer the most life-threatening form of malnutrition, known as severe wasting, and will need therapeutic foods.”
Ceasefire Now Gaza by Sanya Hyland
In Florida, where I am from, when a hurricane hit and I knew of children suffering from dehydration, I could empty every pharmacy in my vicinity of pedialyte and drive it to them in a matter of hours. But there is an army, supported and financed by my government and tax dollars, keeping me from doing the same for these children.
I learned a new Arabic phrase since I’ve been here and have used it often. People in Palestine are so heartbreakingly welcoming. There is rarely a “hello (marhaba)” in Arabic, just “welcome and welcome again” (ahlan wa sahlan). The implied longer meaning, that ahlan wa sahlan is a shortened version of, communicates: “You left your own people, but you are among family, and you are safe here.” But when a Palestinian asks me where I am from, I always tell the truth. “I am from America (Ana min Amrika).” I have seen people shake with the deepest hurt and speak about what the United States of America has done to their family. And saying “I am sorry (assif)” in Arabic is much too little. To me, it implies that I am expecting Palestinians’ understanding, forgiveness, or ablution. I am not. So I have learned to say “I seek forgiveness from God (astaghfirullah)” as the second part of responding about where I am from.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who was put in a concentration camp during the holocaust and later hanged by the Nazis, warned, “Silence in the face of evil is evil itself: God will not hold us guiltless. Not to speak is to speak. Not to act is to act.”
Amid such horrors and one’s inability to stop them, I think I understand how to be imprisoned, to be beaten, to be killed even, would be a balm for one’s soul, knowing that others weren’t suffering alone, and when people were thrown into a furnace, there was another in the fire.
I have 109 prayer beads on my wrist. This about matches the amount of children killed each day in Gaza. What I have done and am doing has not been enough for 10,000 children. And 10,000 more. I don’t know what will be enough. But I will seek it.
This episode of the International Solidarity Movement Podcast was recorded last year, long before the current Israeli genocidal attack against Gaza began. Since te interview took place the situation in the Jordan Valley has got much worse. Jordan Valley Solidarity (JVS) is still working to support the people of the Jordan Valley to stay on their land, despite massively increased settler violence and forced expulsions of entire Jordan Valley communities. This interview focuses on what JVS are struggling for: the beauty of the Jordan Valley, and the steadfastness of its people.
[00:00:00]Introduction: Hey, welcome to International Solidarity Movement Podcast [translation in Arabic]
[00:00:19]Tom: Hey, and welcome to episode 14 of the International Solidarity Movement podcast. In this episode, we speak to Rashid Khudary of the Jordan Valley Solidarity campaign. The Israeli state has wanted to annex the Jordan Valley since it occupied it in 1967. In 2021, Netanyahu announced final plans for the annexation of the valley, an area which makes up one third of the West Bank.
[00:00:41]Tom: People in the Jordan Valley resisted strongly against these plans, and there was an international outcry. Thankfully, the plans have been shelved for the moment, but the people of the Jordan Valley are under a constant threat from settlements expanding onto their land, from the violence of the Israeli settlers, from the closures of the Israeli military, which make most of the valley inaccessible to Palestinians. And from the constant demolitions of Palestinian property, which are carried out by the Israeli army. Jordan Valley Solidarity works to support the steadfast resistance of people in the Jordan Valley, to rebuild the schools and homes that have been demolished, and to celebrate the beauty of the Jordan Valley. Rashid talks about taking strength for the struggle from the natural world and the beauty of the land.
[00:01:23]Tom: And now over to Rashid to talk about life in the Jordan Valley and about the campaign, uh, in solidarity with people living there.
[00:01:44]Tom: I’m here with Rashid from Jordan Valley Solidarity at the beautiful house that you’ve built in Bardala. And I wondered if you could tell me about the Jordan Valley Solidarity campaign, about what you’ve been doing in the Jordan Valley, when it was established, and yeah, why there’s a need for a solidarity campaign for the communities in the Jordan Valley?
[00:02:02]Rashid: First, the Jordan Valley Solidarity Movement [was] established in 2003. Me, I joined since 2006. We as the Jordan Valley Solidarity, we are a network of Palestinians farmers from different communities, Palestinian farmers associations [together] with international solidarity and support [from] international volunteers. We work even with the Palestinian trade unions. Our main goal from our movement is to defend our population in the Jordan Valley to make him stay and [support them] resisting there.
[00:02:39]Rashid: Why the Jordan Valley [Solidarity] movement and why the Jordan Valley [is a] special area? First, the Jordan Valley region and area is very important and [strategic] for our Palestinian people in the whole region of Palestine and the West Bank because it’s very rich [in] resources in the Jordan Valley. Huge fields and a huge land, which is really very rich land, and it’s very rich of water resources in the Jordan Valley.
[00:03:11]Rashid: Even it’s the main border to travel from all West Bank, it’s only from Jordan Valley. To the Arabian [countries], to Jordan… From Jordan, we can travel to any place in the world. But because in the whole population [of] the West Bank, we are not allowed to travel from Israel to any country – even thousands or maybe millions of Palestinians – you are not allowed to enter to Israel.
[00:03:44]Rashid: And the Jordan Valley area for us it used to be, before, our main Palestinian breadbasket producing [all kinds] especially of vegetables. And before 1967, before the occupation and the war, it was the Palestinian population in the Jordan Valley, more than 300,000 [people].
[00:04:04]Rashid: Now we are only just 56,000 who [are] still resisting and living in the whole Jordan Valley, and there is thousands of Palestinians who’re refugees. Thousands of people after the war – after ’67, the Israeli policy… They abused our community and [policies against] our people making a lot of our people [get] out of the Jordan Valley through using different policy and displacement, most of our population [are now] outside of the area of the Jordan Valley.
[00:04:48]Rashid: Again, why the Jordan Valley? It was the Israelis who put this strategy and the plan before they even occupied the area… Now the Israelis, since 1967 until now, they’ve built 39 Israeli [colonies] in the Jordan Valley. They’ve built more than 20 army bases and army camps in the Jordan Valley. Even they control the main water resource through the Israeli company that they created in 1937, which they call it Mekarot company. This company, they build more than 20 water wells and taking the whole [of] our water resource under the ground and [controlling] it just for the Israeli settlers. Which that mean even we are not allowed, as Palestinians living in the Jordan Valley, to have the drinkable water. This is now one of the main Apartheid system the Israeli created in the Jordan Valley. Without respecting even the international law, without respecting the [human beings], and trying to use the water as a weapon and as a gun to [displace] our people and kick him outside of the Jordan Valley.
[00:06:01]Rashid: And in the same time, if you look into the Israeli settlements in the Jordan Valley, is totally so green, big swimming pool, having good economic and good agribusiness there – especially dates, flowers, vegetables, grape farms they have, the settlers – which most of this kind of product, the settlers, they export it outside in the world: in Europe, in the UK, in the United States, everywhere. They have like a free [subsidised] land, free water. They have huge fundraising from Israeli government and from different international government to occupy our land, not just to build this kind of agribusiness.
[00:06:48]Rashid: In the same times, we are as a civilian under occupation not having any kind of right. Our right of water, we are not allowed to have water. Our right of health service: even we are not allowed to build in the Jordan Valley any kind of hospital or health clinic. Our right of education: even we are not allowed to build the schools and not allowed to go to the school inside the Israeli colony.
[00:07:15]Rashid: This is kind of what we need as [human beings]… the Israeli government, they don’t respect [us]. And this is why [we] established the Jordan Valley Solidarity because we need any kind of help and support for our communities, for our people, for our farmers, for our women, our children, to support what we need to resist.
[00:07:36]Rashid: And exactly what we are doing: we built six schools in different villages and communities in Area C, we built two health clinics in the Jordan Valley, we build and renovate more than 200 houses from north to the south of the Jordan Valley. We build four pipe line of water to bring water from village to other village where family not allowed to have a water.
[00:08:03]Rashid: And we try to have more international solidarity and support because even we as Palestinians, we work mostly as a volunteers… And we need more hands, we need more internationals to join our work. We need more internationals who can help us writing articles [and reporting]. We need more internationals who can support our farmers working with our farmers to harvest, to plant.
[00:08:36]Rashid:[As well] there’s many [things internationals] can do. Especially for us [it] is very important for international [volunteers] to see the facts about the occupation, about this kind of conflict, how the Israeli government and Israeli soldiers, and even the Israeli settlers councils, how they are dealing in our [real] life. For confiscating our car sometimes, even confiscating our tractors when we are going to work in our field or in our farm, and even how they came to destroy our structures and our house or our school. Because all [all of the things the Israelis are doing] we don’t think [that all the] people in the world they know about it. And this is why it’s very important for internationals to come. Even they can help for recording for filming, taking pictures and publishing or sharing this kind of information with the people in the world. And even trying to do something for the families who lost their houses or for children who lost their schools.
[00:09:50]Rashid: Even we have different kind of activities, like planting trees, sometimes organizing walking trails, like a path where Palestinians and internationals they can crossing the area to enjoy the [nature], to show them our plants, our beauty in the Jordan Valley.
[00:10:10]Rashid: And even they can learn cooking in the wood, cooking with our women, the Palestinian food. That’s something for us – even it’s very important, to share it, to show them: even we have a life if we are under the occupation. If the Israelis [are] stealing our culture, our land, our water, stealing everything. But they cannot steal our resistance. They cannot steal that, we can still teach the people: about our life, about our beauty life in the Jordan Valley. To show them- because most of people they think we don’t have a real life. No, we have a life. We have children. We [are] trying to use this kind of education [as] a seed, to show people how we are [resisting] and how we are sharing our hope and our power through all these projects and activities [and] work in the Jordan Valley.
[00:11:04]Tom: You were saying in the car on the way here that very often people from the Jordan Valley and in Palestine in general, they talk about the the situation with the Israeli occupation, the attacks of the Israeli forces on Palestinian people. But… well, it makes people forget about talking about the beauty of, for example, life in the Jordan Valley.
[00:11:01]Tom: So the Jordan Valley Solidarity Campaign tries to preserve and document the cultural heritage and natural heritage in the area, right?
[00:11:50]Rashid: Yeah, we create a path from a village called Hammamat al Maleh to another village called Ein al Hilwa. And we call the path in Arabic: ‘Yalla min Al Maleh l’Ein al Hilwa’.
[00:12:10]Rashid: And this path, before we started, we made a big research which we make it with mostly volunteers: Palestinians from the university and activist groups who join us, even some teachers from schools, and we used to go to the mountains to take pictures [of] plant[s], and even trying to learn about the name and why they give this kind of name. And even we try to learn from the plant, which we know, or if we don’t know, if it’s used for any kind of thing, like some kind of a plant we have it, we use it for medicine. And the same, we learn about animals and we writing about all kinds of animals in the area.
[00:13:00]Rashid: … We collected the story of the place, why this village is called Hammamat al Malih. Hammamat, it means ‘shower’. And Al Maleh, it means ‘salty’… In this village [there were] seven showers, which is like a swimming pool, because the water in this community it was coming from the natural spring water which is hot water which is good for the skin and people they was using it as a medicine, when they have a problem in the body or in the skin.
[00:13:44]Rashid: And [there were] a lot of people [who] came from different areas to this place. Me personally, the last time I [went] swimming in this place [was] in 1998, with my parents and my family and a friend there. And it was very beautiful valley full of water. In this project, we try to bring people to see the nature, to see the beauty of the Jordan Valley. We [even planned] to build in this [community] a tent where women can produce all hand make stuff or food that they make it to sell.
[00:14:20]Rashid: The Israelis, they came, they destroyed this tent and even they confiscated my private car. And they kept it for two months, later they gave it back after I paid 2,175 [Shekels, which is over $500]… This is what’s happening, which that means even the Israelis, they don’t give us the right [to have] beauty – to enjoy our nature. To go hiking, to go for a walk, to enjoy the plants, to enjoy our time, especially in the spring. This is what they start trying to steal and they change even some areas, or they create some areas, which they call it a ‘close military firing zone’ and [it is] forbidden to enter to this area. And in the same time, they make it as a national park. And at the same time, we are not allowed to enter [these places] without having permission from the Israeli military, not even from the Israeli natural organization, you know. And all this… is just to control the land and our resources just for the settlers.
[00:15:35]Rashid: Even everyone in the world, I’m sure they are in love with nature and they don’t have any problem with nature. But the Israeli government, even they have the problem with the natural reserves area. Why? Because since 2014 until 2020, there was every years, especially the settlers from April to June, the summertime, they burn the natural area. Which that’s mean they kill a lot of seeds. In this time, in the years, there is a bird, we call it Shinar, some people they call it Al Hajal, we have gazelle, they give the baby from April to June. Which that mean when they burn it, they kill the seeds, which that mean, maybe some kind of a plant, we cannot find it again, they kill a lot of animals.
[00:16:38]Rashid: Why? Just because they don’t want our shepherd taking his sheep, or goats, or cow to the mountain to feed it from the [nature]. Even this kind of animals, they- they spread the seeds of a plant, which is good for the [nature]. But even they use the natural area to [displace] our people without respect even the [nature] or the plant and the animals.
[00:17:04]Rashid: This is what they do for our people and our humanity, you know, when they kill or they are shooting, or when they destroy our houses, or our schools, or our water.
[00:17:08]Rashid: This is why it’s very important to talk about it, because we don’t want even people in the world to be silent.
[00:17:17]Tom: We talked a bit about international support and about volunteers coming here. But in the past, I know there have been big campaigns outside of Palestine to boycott Israeli goods in supermarkets and particularly to boycott Carmel Agrexco, which was the Israeli state owned national exporter that was exporting goods particularly from the Valley. That company was liquidated, but there are many other companies like Mehadrin and Galilee that are still exporting from the Jordan Valley. What would you say about the importance of these boycott campaigns which are happening outside Palestine?
[00:18:04]Rashid: What I will say. I will say anyone who’s working or who’s buying, or they have any kind of project with this kind of authority or this kind of government, you know, that’s mean he’s agrees about all the crimes have been [done] to [human beings] in Palestine. That’s mean he’s supporting the Israeli soldiers to have more bullets to kill more Palestinians. That’s mean he’s support the Israeli bulldozers [which] destroy our schools and our houses. Who’s agree and who’s support?
[00:18:40]Rashid: If we just respect a [human being], everyone they should think he’s under occupation. Because what Israeli they do, because what [the] Israeli government they [are] doing, is not just against us. We are surviving, and we still resist, and we are still learning from what’s going on, and what’s happening [to] us, what’s happening with our neighbours, with our villages, to keep going and to fight.
[00:19:04]Rashid: And we don’t take any decision to go outside of our country, our land. But why people in the world, at least, they will not, by cutting the Israeli products? Or [links with] Israeli academi[a]? or Israeli support, or [links with] Israeli companies? – who are stealing our right of water, our right of education, our right of health service. If you just respect the idea of a [human] being, and if you want to have a world – really have the [real] democracy and [real] freedom, at least we have to boycott the Israeli government, at least.
[00:19:40]Rashid: And we need, of course, the whole kind of support from international people to make even a pressure to international governments who are supporting or who are agree about all these kind of [Israeli] crimes.
[00:19:50]Tom: Yeah, one of the things people talk about here, the idea of staying on the land, and remaining on the land. even when there’s huge pressure against them, when their houses are being destroyed, when their right to water, right to education is being taken away… Often you hear this word steadfastness being used to describe the resistance here. Can you talk about what drives people to carry on resisting against the occupation and remaining on the land here in the Jordan Valley? What is it that drives people to keep on resisting, do you think?
[00:20:38]Tom: And also another question I had was what hope do you have for the struggle against colonization here in the valley?
[00:20:46]Rashid: Just this question?
[00:20:48]Tom: Sorry!
[00:20:49]Nicole: Haha!
[00:20:50]Rashid: No, no, don’t worry! About hope, it’s not really easy to have hope. Even I hope that everyone will hear my message, you know. It’s not easy to imagine the situation, really, because… It’s every minute, every second, every day, especially in the area that Israeli create and call as the Jordan Valley, Area C, ‘closed military zones’. Every day people [are] having different kinds of challenges and they still resist. Sometimes, me personally, I have hope from animals, from birds, from plants, from the beauty of the Jordan Valley, from [the] strong man that I’m [working] with or a strong woman. I see here – how she’s resisting to build her oven that has been destroyed many times and cooking her own bread for her family, you know.
[00:21:55]Rashid: This is what gives me back more hope- sometimes from international volunteers or the international movement who’s supporting. It’s from different ways that we can have hope, to be honest. This is what we need, we need really support. As I told you before, I don’t feel like we are just occupied from Palestine, and we are not just as a Palestinians still under occupation. But, I’m thinking we are [occupied by all] international governments… The whole people in the world is still occupied… If we don’t have the freedom, and our justice, and our country back, that will mean all people [around the world] are still under occupation too.
[00:22:43]Rashid: This is my message. Did I answer you?
[00:22:44]Tom: Yeah, yeah, you answered. Thank you very, very much.
[00:22:45]Nicole: Yeah, that was amazing!
[00:22:45]Rashid: Thanks for you!
[00:22:52]Tom: And, yeah if you’re interested in finding out about Jordan Valley Solidarity, you can look at jordanvalleysolidarity.org. The campaign is asking for donations from people internationally as well.
[00:23:04]Tom: So, if you want to raise money for the campaign, you can donate through the website or get in touch with the campaign to hear more about the project.
[00:23:05]Rashid: Exactly, yeah.
[00:23:06]Tom: Is there anything else you want to say?
[00:23:08]Rashid: Ohhh yes. I will ask people to come and join our resistance and enjoy our vegetables, and our fruit, and our nature!
Tears come easily. Today I watched and listened to a hundred Jewish Israelis outside the U.S. embassy affirm that “grief has no borders,” as they collectively mourned those murdered in Gaza. Some people, like Khalil Abu Yahia were known and loved by the Jewish solidarity activists. And from the breaking in their voices as they spoke, I knew that the others who they didn’t know, who apartheid walls, checkpoints, and a prison ghetto kept them from knowing, were loved too.
Grief knows no borders and ceasefire banners at vigil in Jerusalem. Photo Credit: ISM
Khalil had the vision to see beyond the current colonial realities. As Khalil went from place to place in Gaza with his family, trying to find somewhere safe, experiencing explosion after explosion, missile attack after missile attack, he did not despair. With roofs collapsing around him, he wrote, “I am sure that the hearts of my beloved friends will always be a shelter that can never be destroyed.”
In Jerusalem I saw Israeli activists turn themselves into shelter for Khalil and other Palestinians. Everybody held a name and picture of somebody from Gaza who was killed. These pictures and with them, white roses, were placed at the United States embassy. Closing out the memorial, a speaker said: “May the memory of the righteous be a blessing.”
Out front of the US Embassy in Jerusalem, people place down pictures and names of people killed in Gaza, together with white roses. Photo Credit: ISM
I walked from the embassy to the Lion’s Gate of the Old City. I was seeking to return a prayer rug I found last Friday after Israeli police and military beat and dispersed people assembling to pray. I couldn’t find the prayer rug’s person. What I did find was occupation police on horses charging into people praying. Many people ran to not be trampled. But some people, already on their knees, stayed on their knees. I remember one of these men especially. I couldn’t tell if he was intently focused on finishing his prayers or bracing for his prayerful body to be crushed, or both, but the horses stopped just short. Occupation police not on horses, swept in to continue pushing and beating the worshippers.
To be in Palestine at this moment necessitates consciousness of incalculable inhumanity and atrocity. The worshippers outside the gates to Al Aqsa and the Israeli activists who refuse complicity with their government, have something in common. Their courage, strength, will, commitment, perseverance, and vision is, and always will be, stronger than that of the oppressors.
Sophie Scholl of the White Rose Society, before being executed by the Nazi government that she was taught to obey but then learned to resist no matter the consequences, tells whoever will listen, “Stand up for what you believe in even if you are standing alone.” Rachel Corrie, the I.S.M. activist murdered by Israel for refusing to step aside and allow a home demolition, is similarly remembered to have said, “Let me stand alone.”
I am grateful in this moment for not having to stand alone for what I believe in and seeing more white roses.
17 December 2023 | International Solidarity Movement | Jenin
On Wednesday, December 13, I received a message from a fellow actress of the Freedom Theatre informing me that the occupation forces had arrested without charge Mustafa Sheta, theatre director and general manager, Ahmed Tobasi, artistic director, as well as Jamal Abu Joas, acting coach. The arrests took place in a military raid carried out by the occupation forces in the city of Jenin, with their main target being the refugee camp where the headquarters of the Freedom Theatre is located.
Mustafa Sheta was arrested at his home in the city of Jenin, where they handcuffed him and took him, mercilessly, in front of his children. They sat the whole family in the living room and when they identified Mustafa they asked him, “Have you done anything?” To which Mustafa replied, “I have not done anything.” Still, the occupation forces took him away and to this day nothing is known about him.
Mustafa Sheta, Freedom Theater Director, arrested and still imprisoned by IOF. Credit: The Freedom Theatre
On the night of December 12, 2023, Tobasi heard soldiers knocking on neighbors’ doors. He got dressed, put on a winter jacket and got ready because he was worried about them coming to his home.
The next morning, shortly after 9 a.m., the Israelis began attacking and looting the Freedom Theatre. They fired from inside the theatre, destroying the offices and knocking down a wall. Tobasi’s house is directly across from the Freedom Theatre.
Around 11:30 a.m., still fully dressed and still hearing disturbances, he came out and said, “Why are you making all this noise? You are terrorizing children.”
The Israeli army took Tobasi and beat him. They made him take off his jacket and threw him on the ground in the street, in the cold and rain.
Shouting at Tobasi that he should stay there, the army entered his house and broke everything. They smashed his computer screen, his iPad, and destroyed everything they could, even taking the plants and throwing them on the ground.
After breaking everything in the house, the Israeli army took a towel from the house and blindfolded Tobasi. They then went to look for Mohammed, Tobasi’s brother.
Occupation forces handcuffed them both and took them away. They did not have enough clothing for the cold and winter weather.
Jamal Abu Joas has also been captured by the Israeli army.
Jamal recently graduated from the Freedom Theatre School of Performing Arts, where he is now an acting coach and also a freelance photographer.
The army invaded his house, and searched and took everything, including Jamal’s phone and camera. The soldiers have beaten him brutally.
On Thursday afternoon we decided to go to the city of Jenin in support and solidarity for my colleagues and friends from the Freedom Theatre and to document what had happened.
We arrived around two in the afternoon in the city of Jenin, and all the shops were closed. Some boys helped us get closer to the entrance of the refugee camp. Between the sounds of detonations of live ammunition and the smell of teargas we advanced, but only halfway. On the way we had to stop, there was an ambulance and a barricade that blocked the way.
Credit: ISM
Further up, at the entrance to the refugee camp, there was a convoy of the Israeli army. Journalists were gathered on the edge of the street at the entrance of a hospital and residential house. We waited for about 10 minutes; the sound of the live fire grew louder. But then the occupation forces withdrew and we were able to enter.
We entered through a side street towards the central square of the camp. From the first moment we could see the level of destruction that had been undertaken. The streets were completely destroyed, the doors of the houses broken, the shops destroyed, the water was running all over the place. What were once streets were now muddy fields because the army had also broken the pipes to destroy the water infrastructure. The level of destruction was incalculable.
Credit: ISM
We arrived at the central square which was unrecognizable. Wherever one turned there was graffiti of the Star of David painted on walls.
Credit: ISM
All the surroundings were damaged. We joined with local community members trying to clean a little and see how they could repair what the occupation forces had destroyed. We continued walking towards the theatre. My eyes could not recognize where I was. This place that I walked so many times could not be connected with my memories. The firefighters were putting out a fire in a house that still seemed to be burning We could feel the heat coming off as we passed by.
When we arrived outside the theatre, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The place that I saw so full of life the last time I was there was covered by a spectral silence. The warehouse, the theatre room, the offices, everything had been destroyed. They threw everything everywhere. They broke everything: books, pictures, doors, computers, screens, glass. And again, the Star of David was everywhere one looked. They did this as an exercise in intimidation, cruelty and power. This was not only an attack on life but also an attack on freedom. The occupation forces want to end any type of resistance.
Credit: ISM
I went out to the parking lot again and see a man outside the theatre room. When he turns to me, it takes me a moment to recognize him. He is Tobasi. They have released him. I hug him tightly. I feel relieved to see him again. He asks me how I am. “Confused,” I respond, “I think it’s absurd for me to ask you.” But he nevertheless responded, “Alhamdulillah.”
It is evident that they have hurt him, that they tortured him, that they beat him. It is difficult for him to walk. We entered the office at a slow but steady pace. “They destroyed everything,” he says. When we are in one of the offices outside we hear the noise of a car engine, he turns around and asks me, “Is it a jeep?” No, it’s just a car, but we have to leave. We offer to help clean, but he says, “Later, now it’s not safe. They can come back at any time.
Already on the street outside the theatre, we say goodbye. I told him to write to me, that I will return. He said, “Yes, but in a couple of days, now it is not safe.” I told him that I am here for him, for Mustafa and for the Freedom Theatre. I initially came to do an artistic residency with them, which was cut short by the events that arose after October 7. “Take care of yourself, be careful, stay safe,” he said.
IOF damaged the inside of the Freedom Theatre. Credit: ISM
We continued walking deeper into the camp, reaffirming with our eyes the horror and devastation.
We reached the roundabout where the great monument of the map of Palestine was located, which was knocked down. We advanced a little further and the children around us run and shout at us “Jeish Jeish,” the occupation forces had returned. Explosions were heard and the sound of the siren announcing a new incursion. We didn’t have much time to stop and think of what to do, to either take refuge in the theatre or continue to try to reach the service station to Ramallah. We decided to continue. A Palestinian in a car offered us a ride to the service station; walking wasn’t safe. We tried to insist on giving him money but he more insistently refused. At the service station we said goodbye.
The service advanced towards Ramallah, leaving behind the unprecedented devastation. My memories want to find a place in this reality. It is like trying to put together a puzzle from which several pieces have been stolen.
The next morning Tobasi gives an interview in which he says the attack on the refugee camp has been the most devastating, the most violent since 2002, referring to the second intifada. Jenin is now in some ways the other Gaza.
It is nearing Christmas time in Bethlehem. And there is room at the inn this time.
A family from Gaza had to go to a far away hospital for their child’s illness. Then October 7th occurred, and then the genocide.
Nativity scene in Bethlehem
This Gazan family found refuge in a hostel in Bethlehem. They have been here for months already and will continue to be until it is safe for them to return. I spent one night in the same hostel. And the mother knocked on the bedroom door I was in. When it opened, I saw that she had made an extra plate of home-cooked food.
I couldn’t do anything but cry for the next hour, thinking to myself how the family most likely has no home to go back to, perhaps no neighborhood, perhaps no city, and in all likelihood have lost dozens of members of their extended family, and they still have the thoughtfulness, compassion, and grace to offer a stranger a meal.
It is not the first time a Palestinian has shown me similar care and generosity. Everywhere in Palestine I have been given tea, coffee, food, sweets, gifts of all types, embraces of friendship, and overflowing kindness.
In Masafer Yatta, the Jordan Valley, and other areas in Palestine, shepherding families and other villagers face threats of their whole communities being wiped out by murderous settlers who tell them they have 24 hours to leave or be killed. Still, these same families will spend the little money they have to supply their international and Israeli solidarity guests with tea, coffee, snacks, homemade bread and more.
Food shared by Palestinian villagers in Wadi Tiran.
In Gaza, I have heard there are thousands of open doors to the Palestinian homes that are still standing. Gaza families keep their doors open for when (not if) their neighbors’ homes are bombed and their neighbors are made homeless with nowhere else to go. And in the United States, where I am from, we lock not only the doors to our homes but our churches too. I pray that one day, Americans in peace and prosperity will have as much generosity and compassion to those made homeless as the Palestinian people of Gaza have even while experiencing starvation and genocide.
There is a poet in Gaza, Refaat Alareer, who was targeted and killed by a missile strike. He had written a poem about what he would like to occur in the event of his death. He asks us to make kites (white ones, with long tails) so that a child in Gaza can see them flying and think about how an angel is bringing back love.
Refaat Alareer’s Twitter (X)
If there is one thing right now that I wish the world could see through my eyes, it is the strength to love that I witness Palestinians still have even when they are experiencing a genocide. This humanity amid inhumanity breaks the shell enclosing my understanding and teaches me what holy is.
Mahmoud Darwish, the famed Palestinian poet, reminds us to think and say, “if only I were a candle in the dark”.
Mahmoud Darwish quote from Palestine Advocacy Project
Being in Palestine at this time, I see much darkness, but also many candles.
I can still see even after all the unspeakable crimes against humanity waged against the Palestinian people, how if settler colonialists would simply come as guests and friends, come as a brother returning home, instead of a conquerer laying waste to the land and its people, how there would be a table spread before them by Palestinians with so many wonderful things and an empty seat and a full plate waiting with voices reiterating again and again: ahlan wa sahlan, ahlan wa sahlan.
Palestinian people have been denied their right to return to their homes and land for over 75 years. They still have the keys. But these examples of boundless humanity in the worst situations teach me about a different kind of return. Palestinians offer me, other internationals, and their Israeli oppressors when they turn from their oppression, the right to return to their, to our, humanity.
