Category: Journals - Page 20 - International Solidarity Movement

Kafr Qaddum: Peaceful people under violent occupation

25th October 2016 | International Solidarity Movement, al-Khalil team | Hebron, occupied Palestine

Last Friday I attended a demonstration in the small town of Kafr Qaddum, situated in the Northern region of the West Bank, just west of the city of Nablus. In 1974 Israel began to illegally erect settlements in the nearby Keddumin area. In 2003 Israeli forces set up roadblocks, denying the Palestinian residents of Kafr Qaddum access to much of their land and to the main route leading to Nablus. This road closure increased travelling time to Nablus, and the hospitals and other amenities located there, by more than 30 minutes for the Palestinian residents of Kafr Qaddum.

Understandably aggrieved by this act of forcible encroachment, Palestinian residents entered into negotiations with their now Israeli neighbours to seek to have the route reopened. However, despite the roadblock being declared illegal in 2010, and after years of unfulfilled guarantees on the part of the Israeli occupiers that the road would reopen, the Palestinian residents began to demonstrate in opposition of the closure in 2011. The Israelis’ overhanded retaliation to these demonstrations involves the use of skunk water, tear gas, rubber-coated steel bullets, dogs and even live ammunition. Homes have also been destroyed with the use of skunk water, which leaves a stench so potent that houses are rendered uninhabitable.

Spent casings of stun grenades and tear gas fired at protesters during previous demonstrations at Kafr Qaddum.

Partially ruptured rubber-coated steel bullet found in the dirt at Kafr Qaddum, — Partially ruptured rubber-coated steel bullet found in the dirt at Kafr Qaddum.

New to me was the knowledge that Palestinian farmers have to apply for permits to access large portions of their own land, which is now under Israeli control, in order to harvest their olives. This year however, as collective punishment for the weekly demonstrations, the Israeli authorities reduced the permit from 45 days to 7 days, time enough to harvest only a fraction of their land.

Present at the demonstration that day were Palestinian residents of all ages, journalists, and international and Israeli activists. After the noon prayer people began to gather and march down the road through which Palestinian movement is now prohibited. The mood was tense as only days beforehand settlers set alight a number of the olive trees belonging to Palestinian farmers, adding insult to injury as the list of injustices against these people grows even longer.

Demonstrators march in protest of road block which has been closed to Palestinians since 2003.

The scorched remains of olive trees burned by settlers that week.

However, despite feeling intense anger at these recurring acts of settler aggression, the protesters remained reserved in their action and did not retaliate in kind. Tyres were set on fire, the primary purpose of which is to create a smoke screen in order to protect protesters from sniper fire. Large plumes of smoke rose from the flames and travelled in a windward direction over the settlement to make known to its residents their discontent. But at no point was the settlement approached or was a single act of aggression enacted by any of the protesters present. Indeed, I am told this is common of all the demonstrations carried out at Kafr Qaddum. Violence only erupts when the army comes out to face the protesters in large numbers, answering stones with rubber-coated steel bullets or worse. Only two weeks previous a journalist was struck in the head with a high-velocity tear gas canister shot from a distance of 400 meters, shattering the helmet that undoubtedly saved his life. Thankfully, on this occasion, the army did not leave their base and the demonstration passed without incident. Afterwards I walked down to see the large patch of land and olive trees scorched by the settlers that week. I was struck by an overwhelming sense of injustice that such despicable acts of hatred could go unanswered. I wondered if I would be capable of the level of reserve shown by the Palestinians residents of Kafr Qaddum if I had suffered as these people have over so many years.

Clouds of smoke below into the sky as a mark of indignation to settler — Clouds of smoke bellow into the sky as a mark of indignation to the occupation under which the Palestinian residents of Kafr Qaddum suffer.

These are a non-violent people, who have had a history of violence put upon them by Israeli settlers and the army that supports them. And yet this is not the story told by the media at large, presenting them to the world as warmongering terrorists. I have seen first hand that the only terrorists in this situation are those wielding armoured cars and riffles, not those whose only defence of their homes and livelihoods are the rocks they find at their feet.

Occupation through the eyes of a child: the way to school

24th October 2016 | International Solidarity Movement, al-Khalil team | Hebron, occupied Palestine

Imagine being an eight-year old boy, walking to school,
and as you come close, close to the roadblock you have to pass every day,
army jeeps are everywhere, blocking the roadblock and the gate.
You have to squeeze past the jeeps on one side, or squeeze between the two,
just to pass the roadblock, just one of the obstacles installed by Israeli forces,
as an everyday reminder that you’re the occupied, the ‘less human’,
the people the occupying army is trying so hard to displace.
Your only fault: being born Palestinian.

Or the boy, that lives near the settlement, used to the ubiquitous presence,
of settlers from the nearby illegal settlement, built on your family land,
of heavily-armed occupying soldiers, with the only duty to protect the settlers.
The military tower on top of your family home, your ‘safe place’,
a daily reminder of the vicious occupation.
Your only fault: being born Palestinian

Growing up under occupation, nothing is normal.
Everything is normal. A foreign army waking you up at night,
the day before an important exam, dragging your brother away,
into the dark of the night. Normal.
Normal is not normal, unnormal is normal. Occupation is ‘normal’.
Given this normalcy, on the way to school, two dozens soldiers,
army jeeps and military gates blocking the way. Normal.
Happily walking to school, looking forward to meet friends.
Your only fault: being born Palestinian

Imagine being a first-grader, the way to school, scary.
Settlers from the illegal settlements, they’ve already beaten up your big brother.
His fault: being born Palestinian,
daring to play outside his own home on a Jewish holiday.
The ever present occupying army: watching. Preventing an ambulance to reach your brother.
“No Palestinian cars on this road”.
With many settlers and soldiers on the street, the way to school seems impossible to do.
The way to school, just two minutes, suddenly seems like an hour.
Still standing in the door, unsure whether the way is do-able today.

All the army presence – leaving as soon as the first tunes of the national anthem sound,
marking the start of the school-day. The army presence, just for intimidation?
To intimidate school-children, on their way to school,
to achieve an education despite the occupation.
The national anthem, sounding the resistance, the steadfastness of the Palestinian people.
Sounding the illegallity of the Israeli land-theft, blatant human rights violations and war crimes.
Sounding the unwillingness of the Palestinians to be de-humanised, destroyed, dissapeared.

The Weight of Each Stone

For generations, stones have played a significant role in both Palestinian society and within resistance movements. For this reason, it should be no surprise that the Israeli state has historically targeted the use of stones in a variety of ways, and continues to today.

The significance of stones within the Palestinian context is deeply-rooted. For centuries stones and boulders have been used across Palestine in agricultural lands to give structure and strength to the soil holding the olive and fruit trees that feed and sustain Palestinian society. Homes in many areas of Palestine are also built from these materials which are of the earth, of the land that is so sought after by imperialist powers. The connection between physical home, and homeland is grounded partially in the stones of the earth.

Within Palestinian resistance movements, stones have played a crucial role. They are often used to barricade roads from Israeli military jeeps entering Palestinian areas. In the first Intifada, masses of Palestinians took to the streets to fight the Israeli occupation and colonial forces using the only ‘weapon’ available to them: stones. Perhaps one of the most iconic photos from the first intifada was that of a young boy throwing a stone at a monstrous military jeep with precision and purpose. These practices extended through the Second Intifada and into today, as we continue to see children and youth fighting for their communities against Israeli colonial and violent practices, with stones.

Occupying Israeli soldiers enter the Palestinian market in Al Khalil. — Israeli soldiers entered the Palestinian market roads in Al Khalil Friday, met with a front of stones.

Last Friday in Al Khalil, seven Israeli soldiers came through the Palestinian market roads; a nearly daily practice and demonstration of Israeli entitlement. It seems to have become normalized in many ways as a part of living under Israeli occupation. But some days, like this past Friday, it is met with a statement of strength that reflects a history of Palestinian liberation movements. A handful of Palestinian children from ages eight to ten, defended their streets with stones in hand. The soldiers, suited up in helmets and military gear including their ever present M-16s, seemed to laugh at the front the young boys held. But in the end, the soldiers left. These few boys, with so much righteous anger and frustration, held their ground, and fought for their community in a small, but powerful show of resistance.

One day prior to this in Beit Ummar, a village in northern Al Khalil, yet another Palestinian youth, Khalid Bahr Ahmad Bahr, 15, was shot and killed by Israeli forces for alleged rock throwing. According to Ma’an News, Bahr became the 235th Palestinian to be killed by Israeli soldiers and settlers since a wave of violence spread across the occupied Palestinian territory and Israel in October 2015.

The sobering number of Palestinians killed are what you might expect when you look at the policies supported by the Israeli parliament, such as the shoot-to-kill measure introduced in September of 2015, legally allowing the use of live-fire against Palestinian protestors. This tactic has been common practice, but like so many other unconscionable Israeli policies, has now been ushered into legal practice under the occupying state. This measure has been used by the Israeli government continuously over the past year as a rationalization for the unjustifiable killings taking place in large numbers, including against youth who participate in throwing stones.

These intentions are further echoed in the policies around arrests and imprisonment for stone throwing. Palestinians can be imprisoned for up to twenty years if charged with throwing stones with intent to harm. The testimony of one soldier is all that the Israeli court often deem necessary to charge and sentence Palestinians for throwing stones, whether or not this actually took place, and with no regards to if anyone was harmed in the process. The absurdity of a sentence such as this is not only used as a tactic to imprison thousands of Palestinians, often children and youth, but is targeting the symbolism of resistance that continues to drive Palestinians fighting for freedom, fighting for liberation, and fighting for their homeland.

Each stone thrown today, holds the significance and weight of each thrown before it. As Israeli colonialism continues to spread, the stones of the earth continue to build a foundation for Palestinian resistance to stand on. They have acted as this from the beginning of the occupation and will continue to for as long as the oppressive policies of the Israeli state persist.

Deported

24th October 2016 | Sarah Robinson | occupied Palestine

On Monday, 17 October 2016, I was deported from Israel. This is my story.

I left Johannesburg on Sunday evening, 16 October, and flew to Istanbul, Turkey. The check-in process was smooth and I was asked no security related questions. I had a six-hour stopover in Istanbul which was also uneventful. I checked-in to the flight to Tel Aviv, Israel and although there was extra security and scrutiny there were no problems. I landed in Tel Aviv at 13:20 on Monday afternoon.

I waited patiently in line at the customs desks for my turn to be processed. A sullen lady called me to the desk, took my passport, and began typing away on her computer. She asked me the normal customs and immigration questions. How long did I plan to stay in Israel? What was the purpose of my visit? Had I been there before? I answered carefully and truthfully. She then asked me what my father’s name was and my grandfather’s name which I provided. Staring at her computer screen she called a gentleman to the desk and handed him my passport. He requested I follow him. He took me to a room in the customs area where several other people were sitting. I waited in the room for about 45 minutes when another lady, not older than 25, called me into her office. Like the first lady, she was tapping away furiously on her computer and didn’t really look at me but rather the screen in front of her. She began asking me questions similar to that of the previous lady. The interrogation lasted for about 45 minutes. She asked questions like this:

What was I doing in Israel on my previous visits? I explained that I was a volunteer with the World Council of Churches and described what that entailed.
Do I know people in Israel? I said not really and she asked to see my phone contacts. I reached for my phone and first tried to turn off my international roaming status before handing it to her. She commented: “Keep deleting your contacts” to which I responded that I was just turning off my data. She entered Israel’s telephone country code into my contacts and two people came up. One was a lady whom I met once in 2013 and the other someone I had worked with in 2013.
Had I ever been to a demonstration? I said no. She asked if I wanted to revise that answer. I said no, I had never been to a demonstration. This was true. She asked if I was aware that the Israelis monitor social networking and photos from such events. I said I was aware of that but my answer remains the same.
Had I ever visited, Jenin, Nablus, Bethlehem, Hebron, or Nazareth? I confirmed which cities I had been to.
She handed me a piece of paper to complete. I had to add my phone number, email address, father’s name, and grandfather’s name.
Where do I stand during clashes and what do I do? I stand in the middle, observe, and take photos. What do I do with these photos? I share them on Facebook and my blog.
Are you a journalist? No. But you have a blog? Yes. What is it? I give her the address of my blog which I have temporarily disabled so she can’t see anything.
Do you know that you can be deported for lying or for being a security threat? Yes, I do understand that.
Do you like coming here for the rush and the high of the conflict? That’s not my main reason for visiting.
Do I know anyone who has been deported? No. But your name was mentioned by someone who was deported. Are you sure you don’t want to give me a different answer? No.

The questions were vast yet detailed and she was continually reading the situation and my responses. I was careful not to lie but I was also careful not to give away unnecessary information. The purpose of my visit was to join the International Solidarity Movement to work as a human rights observer in Hebron. I didn’t give her this information but rather insisted this trip was a holiday, which it was, just not the kind of holiday most people take. When she was finished she requested I go back to the waiting room.

Half an hour later a man called me into another office where I had to complete a customs declaration form and he took my picture. I was hopeful that they were preparing to let me in, why else would they need a customs declaration. He escorted me back to the waiting room.

Another gentleman came in and sat next to me holding two pieces of paper. He informed me that I would be deported and I needed to sign the document as confirmation. I asked why I was been deported and he said I was a security threat. I asked why and what it meant but he just kept saying I was a security threat but gave me no explanation. I refused to sign the document. He didn’t seem to care and got up and walked away.

A little while later another gentleman called me to follow him. He led me through the airport to the luggage area to collect my backpack. He attached a large sign to my bag and left it in another room. He returned me to the waiting area.

Then another man called me to follow him. I was led outside with four other gentlemen. There was an armoured van waiting for us. We got in the van and were driven to a detention centre about ten minutes away. While in the van I called the South African embassy and attempted to explain what was happening to the lady who answered the phone. She basically said there was nothing they could do and hung up. We got to the detention centre and had to leave our bags in a room and were only allowed to keep our cigarettes but no lighter. The men with me were taken to a room on the ground floor of the building and I was taken to a cell on the second floor. There were four other women in the room. I think they were all Russian as they could speak to each other but they spoke very little English so I was unable to communicate with them.

The cell consisted of five bunk beds, a toilet, and a basin. The beds held mixed up and dirty sheets and blankets. The walls of the cell were covered in writing displaying messages such as “Free Palestine” and “God loves you”. There were names of deported activists etched onto the walls and the beds, most written in pencil and some in toothpaste. I sat on the bed and struggled to refrain from crying. I stared at the wall in front of me and saw the message, “God is good, all of the time” but I battled to believe it. The situation was not good. I was not good.

I managed to fall asleep for a little while. After about an hour or so a guard came to the door, opened it, called us, and took us outside for ten minutes to smoke. The detention centre was heavily secured with many security personnel, cameras, and bars. We were escorted back into the cell and offered sandwiches. I lay down again and waited. I had no idea what was happening or what would happen next.

At 20:30 a security guard came into the room and requested me and another lady follow him. We were put back into the armoured van and driven back to the airport. We were taken to a security room where all our belongings were searched and checked. At 21:00 I was again told to follow a gentleman who led me through the airport to a boarding gate. My passport and other documents were handed to the security people at the desk, I was escorted onto the plane, and told that when we landed in Istanbul I would be met by more security.

We landed in Istanbul an hour and 45 minutes later. I waited on the plane until everyone had disembarked and then made my way to the exit. A security officer was waiting for me with my passport and the deportation documentation. Again I was told to follow him. He took me through the airport to another boarding gate where my passport and documentation was handed to the airline officials. Again I was escorted to my seat.

We landed in Johannesburg, South Africa ten hours later. An air steward requested I follow her to the front of plane where I was met by more security guards and again escorted through the airport. The security guard took me through customs and immigration and to collect my backpack. He then went to his office of take copies of my passport and other documentation. Once that was completed, he finally gave me my passport and I was able to take the Gautrain home.

So I am back in Johannesburg after a very expensive and invasive two and a half days. I am still trying to process what happened and what that means for my dreams of returning to Palestine.

The overarching feeling I had during this experience was one of complete helplessness. I had no control of the situation and no matter what I said or did there was no impact on what was happening. The Israelis were exceptionally guarded about the information they shared with me so most of the time I didn’t know what was happening or what would happen next. They were in charge. I was utterly helpless. This experience has given me a new understanding of what the Palestinians go through every day. They are a people rendered helpless by the Israelis and no matter what they say or what they do nothing seems to change. This helplessness was deafening and frustrating and I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for Palestinians to live with this each and every day.

Labelled as a security threat is an indication of just how scared the Israelis are that the truth about the occupation is shared. I am one person with a blog following of several hundred people, Facebook friends, and 300 Twitter followers and yet I was deemed a security threat. As my friend Nigel Branken commented: “I think you can be proud that an oppressive regime sees you (without any weapons) as a security threat to their ability to continue practicing their repression.”

Israel works hard at portraying themselves as the victims of varied security threats, as the only democracy in the Middle East, and the world’s most moral army. These are their words not mine. And yet they are so afraid of individuals like me telling it like it is on the ground in occupied Palestine. If they were truly on the right side of this conflict they would have no problem with the truth been shared. But they are not on the right side of this conflict and they know it and are terrified that their image be tarnished by the truth.

I don’t know what happens next. The document I was given by the Israelis states I need to apply to enter the country again and no mention of a ban is documented. However, I have my doubts, that even if I do apply, they will let me back in.

Since first visiting Palestine in 2013 I have felt a distinct and powerful calling to work in Palestine toward ending the occupation. I believed it was what I was meant to do. Now I don’t know. I am confused. I believe God gave me this heart and this desire to see justice prevail and I don’t understand why He has taken this away from me. I travelled to Israel knowing that the possibility of been deported was real but still feel shocked that this has happened. I don’t know what God’s plan is for my life and I am struggling to believe that He is good, all the time. The reality is that there is really nothing I can do. I am helpless. I have to trust that there is a bigger and better plan coming that God has specifically designed for me. This is difficult at the moment.

Not many people can say they have been deported from two countries (I was deported from the United States in 2003 and my entry banned for five years) but it is not an accolade I hoped to achieve. What I believe is that the Israeli occupation of Palestine is devastating and illegal and ultimately not sustainable. More and more people are seeing the truth of the situation and have the courage to voice their disapproval. I have to believe that change will come at some point, that justice will emerge, it is not in my nature to give up and give in. I will continue to do what I can where I am to change the narrative of the Israel and Palestine conflict and express the truth of the oppression and the occupation.

Roadblocks, stun grenades and settler aggression: another Jewish holiday in occupied al-Khalil

23rd October 2016 | International Solidarity Movement, al-Khalil team | Hebron, occupied Palestine

The events of Tuesday the 18^th of October began to unravel as my friend and I accompanied school children through an Israeli checkpoint (Salaymeh) as they made their way home that afternoon. On our return journey from the school we noticed a car stopped next to a number of school children, its passengers yelling loudly at them, prompting us to film the confrontation. When the driver became aware of our filming the car began to move slowly towards us. As it neared, the car accelerated slightly, forcing us to move quickly to avoid it. Some of the passengers immediately jumped from the car and began to hurl insults at us, calling us “Nazis” and “Jew killers”. They continued in this fashion, pushing and shouting at us to “leave their land” until we were forced through the checkpoint to relative safety. The soldiers present did little to stifle their aggression towards us and even offered one of these men a friendly pat on the back as we left.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YZ8tLf5tnfY

After passing through the checkpoint we noticed an armored bulldozer parked outside the gate and so we decided to wait a while. Before long the checkpoint gate opened and the bulldozer began to move through the street towards another checkpoint (Qeitun), accompanied by three armed Israeli soldiers. We followed it to Qeitun where it began to fashion a roadblock from rubble, large stone blocks and rubbish that was piled up in the street. As we got closer the soldiers began shouting aggressively at us to stop, preventing us from properly observing what they were doing. In the commotion a number of people came out from their homes and businesses, and children, whose homeward journey was blocked due to the soldiers activity, began to congregate at a nearby junction. With this, the soldiers began pointing their weapons threateningly into the crowd. One soldier regularly lifted a stun grenade from his jacket pocket, seemingly eager to use it. As the bulldozer returned to Salaymeh, soldiers continued to fixate their rifles on young children and people passing by. One soldier aimed his rifle at children moving through a near by field, laughing out loud as they ran, terrified that he might fire at them. As the bulldozer passed through Salaymeh, a single stone was thrown from the crowd of school children who had congregated at that junction, landing harmlessly on the ground at the soldier’s feet. In response, the soldier ran towards the congregated school children, throwing a stun grenade into the middle of the crowd causing it to scatter in a frenzied panic. Again he laughed at this triumph.

An armored bulldozer rolls out of the Salaymeh checkpoint through the Palestinian neighborhood to create a roadblock off of a narrow side street.

Roadblock built from large stones and rotting garbage blocking off a Palestinian side street near the Qeitun checkpoint.

It was clear that these children, ranging in age between 5-15, posed no real threat to these soldiers and most were simply waiting to go home. Many of the adults among them, some of whom were presumably teachers, tried tirelessly to keep the children out of harms way. Despite this the soldiers enjoyed taunting the crowd and frightening them with violent intimidation and excessive use of force.

To the Palestinian residents of Hebron such incidents are a familiar occurrence, but these operations increase in regularity during the Jewish holiday of Sukkot, which draws hundreds of Jewish holidaymakers to the fully Israeli controlled H2 part of the city to celebrate the “Feast of the Tabernacles”. Under the auspice of “security”, Israeli military presence similarly escalates during this period, as the number of roadblocks, closures and checkpoints increases dramatically. A number of Palestinian-owned businesses are even forced to close during this time and many residents are prevented from entering or leaving their homes as Jewish tourists parade freely through the so-called Palestinian controlled H1 part of the city, accompanied by soldiers armed heavily with rifles and a variety of other weaponry. Armed guards frequently humiliate and harass Palestinian residents, young and old, with an upsurge in the frequency and ferocity of body searches. Barricades are erected to separate passing Palestinians from Jewish tourists, further reinforcing the apartheid system already enforced by the illegal Israeli occupation of Hebron.

An atmosphere of trepidation consumes the Palestinian residents of Hebron during Sukkot for fear that this military escalation will be used to further the Israeli agenda of “ethnic cleansing” of Palestinians from the city. Violence, eviction and destruction of property at the hands of settlers and the Israeli forces has become commonplace for the Palestinian population of Hebron who, despite it all, remain admirably resolute and resilient throughout.

School children prevented from returning home due to this activity by the Israeli forces.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VQiyLibtpmo