Category: Journals - Page 30 - International Solidarity Movement

Journal: Farming in Gaza near the Buffer Zone

9th November | Rina Andolini | Khuza’a, Occupied Palestine

The farmers are rarely talked about. They blend into the background of the lands beyond the destroyed buildings of the towns. The reality is though, they are facing a battle themselves.

Khuza'a Buffer Zone in December 2012 (photo by ISM). — Khuza’a Buffer Zone in December 2012 (photo by ISM).

Many farmers have had their homes, and farmland attacked. Farm land attacked I repeat, I mean, who would ever have thought that land could be an enemy that needed to be struck by a missile?

Well, the attacks from the air have stopped, for now, although the buzz of the drones rarely hum a tune of silence, sometimes accompanied by the whooshing high speed winds that the F-16s bring with them.

The farmers situation is clear cut and simple; they have land and are in fear of tending to it. What is to fear when all you want to do is plough, and sow seeds, and nurture your land to provide food, shelter, and clothing to your family? How is it okay for a person to work in fear of being shot at, for doing nothing other than farm on their land?

The fence in the buffer zone is the cutoff point, so we should be able to go right up to it without fear of being shot at, or even worse, shelled, as the Israeli army rolls around in their tanks pretty much, round the clock.

Yesterday, the 8th of November, the farmers went to their land to start ploughing away at the soil to get it ready for sowing. They use a tractor. What happened when they went? The Israeli military shot in their direction. Luckily, nobody was hurt, but a tire was shot at and destroyed. These farmers struggle to even pay for contingencies such as these; work hazards caused by Israeli attacks, and why should they even have to? But they do.

So, they called several international activists here in Gaza, and said, “Please come with us to our land, we need to go there with the tractor and do our work but they keep shooting at us.”

Of course, we agreed to go and help, and even this morning, they rang two times, to make sure we were coming. They would not start their work without our presence.

This is their situation, they cannot work without fear of being shot at. It is as simple as this. Where in the world do you hear of such crimes against humanity occurring and resulting in no punishment to the aggressor?

It happens here in Gaza, in Palestine, all the time. The Israelis attack, and they continue to get away with it. The world’s silence is killing and destroying these people.

I met with a farmer, his name was Rami Salim Kudeih, he is 33 years of age, with a wife and five children. The youngest child being one month old, and the oldest, nine years of age.

I asked what he wanted to grow on this land and he said, ”wheat and lentils”.

”This is the season for it. The season may leave us and we will not have done any work because we are in constant fear of attacks from Israel. They have killed people here before on this land that is called Um Khamseen.”

”When the Israelis shoot, I feel angry and sad. A woman was killed in a nearby field too, within the last two years. My sister has also been injured whilst working on these fields, she suffered from a head injury but now she is better thanks to God, but sometimes in the cold, the pain comes in her head.”

The saddest thing of all, is that when I asked Rami, what he thought the international world could do; the world outside of the open air prison that is Gaza, his reply was indeed heartbreaking. It showed me that he had lost hope, that he is living with the situation as it is, with no sight for improvement.

‘They [the Israeli military], shoot often, they shoot in our direction, at the land, and alhamdulillah [praise to God] so far no deaths…but we never know what will happen.”

”The only solution is for the internationals to accompany us in the fields so we can do our work.”

I was expecting a response where he would ask the world to raise their voices and put pressure on the world leaders to put a stop to these crimes against humanity, but in fact, he gave a response which showed his resignation to the life that they are subjected to in Gaza. The life of living in constant fear of being attacked by Israel.

This is not how they should live, this is not how anyone should live, but the people of Gaza do. When will we do something to let these people live the life they have a right to and deserve?

During our time this morning out on the field, we were between 100 – 150 metres away from the fence, things were quiet, though we did see two Israeli tanks rolling around close by, and then go into hiding.

The farmers managed to carry out their work in peace and then we left.

The point is though, they should not need to have any internationals present, they should be able to go safely to their land without any worries.

Final journal from Gaza

17th September | Charlie Andreasson | Gaza, Occupied Palestine

This is what seems to be the last thing I will write from Gaza. Not that there is nothing more to tell, there lies a new story under every stone, but because I will soon leave this small coastal strip where there is so much to be found.

Suffering, deprivation, death, dismemberment, despair, shattered homes, and lives without a future. But also so much love, so much kindness, smiling faces and playing children with catching laughter. And this curiosity and immediate acceptance of me as a stranger, so very distant from my soon-to-be home in Europe.

This will be my thanks and goodbye. A sincere thank you for giving me the opportunity to publish my thoughts, reflections, and observations. A humble thanks to all of you who wanted to read them. And a little special thanks to those of you who have contacted me because of my stories and articles; it has sometimes made me slightly embarrassed, but also made me, secretly, of course – proud.

It has driven me to continue to write, and given me this urge to improve, to make the necessary contacts in order to write another story to keep describing Gaza for those who want to read it.

There is so much more to write and report on. There are already many orphans in Gaza, and the recent war has ripped away another 1,500 children their parents. Not all of these children will be placed in an orphanage, most will probably be taken in by relatives. This is just one of hundreds of stories that will remain on my mind, after I have left Gaza.

There is a farming season approaching, but many farmers have had their houses and fields destroyed. Tanks and bulldozers have already penetrated into the Gaza Strip in violation of the ceasefire. Fishermen have been shot at several times, six have been arrested, and a boat has been seized. This also in violation of the ceasefire.

There are 100 shelters that have been erected, donated by the United Arab Emirates. This is a good start, but not even ten thousand such barracks would be enough, and soon winter and rain will arrive.

There is so much still to write about.

There are not many days left until I shall try to leave, and I will spend my time finishing projects, not beginning new ones. Al-Mazan, an organization working closely with the UN and HRW, has asked for copies of my photographic evidence of war crimes, my role in the Ark-project is over. After a lot of struggling, we have finally started to move forward on the issue of our presence among the fishermen on a far more regular basis. This is a project I will not see completed before I leave. It came to a temporary stop when the war began, and it has tentatively started to continue once again.

It stings a little in me that I cannot be on that journey, and it is pointless trying to hide that. If I did not have to go home, that project alone would be worth staying another year for. Instead, I will focus on cleaning out my apartment, trying to get an afternoon for myself and Moby Dick at a beach cafe, trying to get out for a last night with the fishermen at the sea, to say goodbye to the friends I have found and to thank them for everything, and complete this text, the last one.

Army incursions into Madama

9th September 2014 | International Solidarity Movement, Nablus team | Madama, Occupied Palestine

We arrived in Madama yesterday, 8th September; in the early afternoon after we were told that during the night Israeli army invaded this village, and the nearby villages of Burin and Asira Al Qibliya.

Our contact told us that the main road leading to Nablus was blocked during the night and that a car coming from Asira was prevented from reaching the hospital. Furthermore, a checkpoint was erected at the main entrance of the village; cars and pedestrians were searched until it was removed around 11am.

When we reached Madama, we saw a group of seven soldiers standing on the road beside the Mosque, blocking it with two military jeeps and one personnel carrier. More soldiers were inside the vehicles while those outside positioned themselves facing in different directions and keeping an eye on the surrounding streets, shops and houses.

The school had just finished and groups of children were filling the street and hanging around looking at the unwanted ‘guests’.

We decided to stay and see what was going on and take some pictures. We did this for about 10 minutes, before we attracted soldiers’ attention. Several of them came towards us asking what we were doing in the village, demanding that we hand over our camera. We argued that we had a right to take pictures and that they did not have a right to take our camera, but they insisted that we could not take pictures of individual soldiers and in particular, the close-ups of their faces.

We used this opportunity to pose a question, “If what you are doing is right, why do you hide your faces?”

They refused to answer and instead, they gave us an ultimatum that we delete the pictures or they would take us to the police station to be arrested. They also promised us trouble by the immigration authorities when leaving the country. Eventually we decided to delete some of our photos.

Later we met a group of villagers and spoke about the situation in Madama.

“Every night we have problems with the Israeli army and every family here has been at the receiving end. Only during the attack on Gaza they left us alone, probably because they had less soldiers available here,” one of them said.

He continued to state that the army regularly enters houses in the middle of the night to search them. They do it after throwing the residents out and making them wait for hours, before they can return. In one such raid the soldiers stole 180,000 shekels from a house, claiming they did it because the money was going to Hamas. In fact that was the lifesavings of the man who worked for 20 years and received a payout after finishing his job.

The soldiers usually block Madama by closing the entrance at the main road connecting it to Burin and Asira Al Qibliya, and also closing the settler road located up the hill at the top of the village, connecting illegal settlements of Qedumim and Ytzhar with the main road leading to Nablus and the South.

“When you try to pass through, the soldiers often shout at you, ‘Go away!’ But who should go away? This is my village, my land!’” Said another Madama resident.

When we asked for the reasons why soldiers target the village, he replied, “They usually say that someone had thrown stones at them previously and I don’t really know if that is true. This morning after removing the checkpoint around 11 o’clock, they came inside the village and started taking pictures of the old houses. This makes no sense to us, we have no idea why they are doing this, and we are very worried.”

Israeli soldiers come very often to the village when the school finishes to provoke the children. “Soon this is going to be even a bigger problem. In November maintenance work starts in the boys’ school, and for about three months, boys will attend the girls’ school between 2pm and 7pm, which is very near the settlers’ road. The army is always present, we are really worried for our boys…”

The blockade remains

8th September | Charlie Andreasson | Gaza, Occupied Palestine

More than a week has passed since the ceasefire started and yet no significant easing of the blockade has been seen. Drones are still circulating over the rooftops, maybe carrying deadly cargo. Fishermen have been shot at in the north and south, two fishermen have been arrested and had their boat seized. Tanks and bulldozers have rolled in a good way over the border east of Rafah and destroyed farmland. In the West Bank a 4,000 square kilometer of Palestinian privately owned land has been annexed by the Israeli state.

Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has said that he is considering not sending a delegation to the peace talks in Cairo three weeks from now, and that Hamas is not going to get through any of their demands, demands that all are parts of the Oslo Accords and subsequent agreements, approved by previous Israeli governments. It does not look good for the future.

In Gaza people try to return to everyday life. Those whose houses were not completely demolished, clean shattered glass, broken furniture, concrete, plaster, and war dust. Bombs that did not detonate are excavated and taken away for destruction. Repairs are carried out on houses of those who have access to building materials.

In the wind an air of freedom can be felt, an end to the blockade, a politically united Palestine. Orange banners, the 2010 nominee for the Nobel Prize Mustafa Barghoutis’ colour, have begun to be seen in contrast to the resistance movements green, black, red and Fatah´s yellow. His party PNI, Palestinian National Initiative, which is mostly a democratic coalition open to secular leftist movements and individuals, women’s organizations and civil society organizations. The PNI is based on non-violent resistance and social justice, which sees both the two-state solution based on ‘67 borders and a one-state solution where everyone has equal rights, as avenues to peace, justice and an end to the occupation. It is a hopeful element in an otherwise polarized debate with military overtones on both sides of the border.

There is a lot at stake in Cairo three weeks from now. However if Israel continue to place obstacles in front of a political merger between Gaza and the West Bank, including East Jerusalem, the dreams and hopes will be dashed like the thousands of residential buildings, hospitals, and civilian infrastructure already crushed here in Gaza. It is highly probable that the war rumble will once again echo.

Military operations have already been deployed against fishermen and farmers.

Resistance movements are likely to gain in popularity at the expense of more nuanced movements, the extreme nationalist right in Israel will smell blood and lick their lips, the outside world…how will the outside world react? Will Europe finally have had enough of an Israel that constantly puts itself above international laws, which routinely violate UN conventions? Will the otherwise loyal United States continue to stand at its client side? Will the BDS movement at last gain an overwhelming impact among the world’s citizens? Will Israel continue to isolate itself, hide in the shadow of its wall?

There is much at stake in Cairo three weeks from now. A new chapter may be written in the history books. But from what we have seen during the current ceasefire, and of Netanyahu’s statements, it does not look good.

Fishing in Gaza

3rd September | Charlie Andreasson | Gaza, Occupied Palestine

We sailed out from Gaza City’s harbor just before dusk with the 13-man crew, including two boys, and we had a theoretical possibility to reach six nautical miles for fishing. But that the limit determined by the occupying power would have been moved from three to six miles is mostly a play with words.

After the previous war that ended two years ago, the limit was moved to six nautical miles, which was again reduced to three, only two days before Israel launched its operation ‘Defensive Edge’ no fishing was allowed at all.

For those who are engage in kiddle, hook fishing, it has been a definite improvement, and it is likely that even trawl fishermen will be able to get better catches, so the question was how it will turn out for the once fishing with purse-seine, who primarily are fishing after sardines.

We are more or less cruising out from the coast, following the sonar display closely. It shows nothing but the structure of the bottom, the screen is black, no sign of fish.

The crew are every now and then checking for the red light from the Israeli patrol boats, wise from experience that they attack whenever and wherever they want, not bound to the limits or agreements.

Rade Bakr, the skipper, has been arrested four times in the past and his boat has been seized. Over time he has managed to recover his boat, but he does not want to be arrested a fifth time, not just for his own sake; approximately 80 people depend on the boat’s income.

Eventually, some small, pale spots appear on the sonar screen. We are between four and four an a half miles from the coast, and the captain decides that we should anchor. It is still too early to venture further out, it’s less risky to gain the waters back bit by bit then demanding rights from somebody behind machineguns. None of the crew are protesting, no one feels compelled to be the first with this type of boat to risk everything.

As the anchor is resting on the ground barely twenty meters below us, the machine shuts down and the big generator on deck starta, the headlights around the boat lit up to attract the fish, turning the sea around us a shimmering blue. Some of the crew take the opportunity to fish with a hook during the hours we are there, catching small red-backed fish, one of the two young boys comes with freshly made coffee, ever smiling and ever ready to do whatever the others want.

Food is laid out on the deck, and we sit in a large circle, each one leans forward to the bowls in its midst. Occasionally the crew are watching over the reeling, scouted by the bright light, and out to the dense darkness. It is difficult, almost impossible, to catch sight of anything under such conditions. It’s more like a reflex. I do not ask what they are looking for.

It’s time to throw out the purse-seine. The eco sonar shows more spots now and they are all bright. No orders have to be given, everyone knows what to do.

The skipper takes his place in one of the accompanying boats, a small hasaka (small fishing boat), and turns on its headlights to hold the fish while the now darkened boat lay the purse-seine in a big circle around the hasaka. So starts the heavy work of hauling in the net, with most of the crew standing barefoot on the deck.

Suddenly the catch is laying on the deck, plastic boxes are picked up and sorted by types and sizes; predominantly small octopus but also small crabs, some odd varieties, and very little anchovy, which is supposedly the main catch. And the catch is not large, perhaps 60 kilograms in total.

We anchored with headlights and some of the crew let down their hooks again, the ever smiling boy comes with a new coffee. The hours elapse, most are trying to get some sleep. So it’s time again, but this time it will be more dramatic. One of the crew has caught sight of the red light and is pointing it out to us. The Israeli patrol boat may well be outside the six-mile zone, but its presence is sufficient enough to spread alarm on board; it would only take patrol boat a few minutes to get where we are.

I feel that the crew are trying to haul their gear even faster than before, and I see that they all have complete awareness of where the red light is located. We cannot leave until the gear is on the deck, minutes pass, everyone is trying to assess whether the red light approaching or not, but in the end the catch is hauled in. It was leaner than the last time, the proceeds will not cover the costs. This would have required four or five loads. And to get plenty of fish, they need to be 9-10 miles out from the shore, still Palestinian waters, although they’re excluded from it.

This time, it was enough that the soldiers aboard the patrol boat lit a spotlight towards the fishermen so they would leave their own water, often the Israeli patrol boats do much more.