Big punishments for small hopes

by Haroun Zeitoun

26 January 2013 | International Solidarity Movement, Burin, Occupied Palestine

Burin villagers planting olive trees This morning in Burin, the village that sits in the valley between the Yizhar and Bracha colonial settlements just south of Nablus, saw a small yet high-spirited group plant olive trees. The task was done within an hour and afterwards international activists were shown recently cut trees and, right on cue, the Israeli army could be seen on the periphery of Yizhar. Soon they drove down to investigate and three soldiers found people preparing tea next to rows of freshly planted trees.

Jump forward a few hours and Burin’s population found their access roads closed as soldiers shot tear gas and raided ten homes. Their stated pretext: searching for evidence for molotov cocktails they said were thrown at settlers. For the villagers, they know full well this is military jargon to describe their collective punishment for aspiring to a livelihood on land methodically being stolen from them.

Israeli army arriving at the field Burin has in recent days been subject to night-time training by the army and the cover of dark has also seen 30 and 25 olive trees destroyed by settlers in separate incidents this week. It has been a target for such violence for years, with one resident recalling to activists today when the local mosque was burnt down in 1990 by settlers. The settlers have no
interest in being good neighbours and with an army base within sight from both settlements and Burin they are free to carry on as they please.

Haroun Zeitoun is a volunteer with the International Solidarity Movement (name has been changed).

The broken truce

21 January 2013 | GazaStories, Beit Lahiya, Gaza Strip, Occupied Palestine

A ceasefire was announced on 21st November, ending eight days of horrific bloodshed in Gaza. Has the delicate truce held over the past two months? It depends who you ask. Israelis or Gazans, each going about their daily lives on opposite sides of a border fence.

There has not been a single report of a rocket fired out of Gaza since 21st November. In contrast, four Palestinians have lost their lives and over 80 have been injured by Israeli forces since then. Yet these violations have received little or no coverage in the mainstream media. Palestinian civilians, whose only crime is to live in the border areas, are terrorized on a daily basis by the Israeli army. This is what everyday life under the ceasefire has meant for them.

Beit Lahiya, in the far north of the Gaza Strip is one such place. A week ago it saw the brutal murder of 20 year-old Mustafa Abu Jarad. Today, it was the site of another Israeli violation. Abdullah Marouf, 18, was in the west of Beit Lahiya, near the coast, when he was shot in the right leg by Israeli forces, fracturing both his tibia and fibula.

Abdullah Marouf in hospital. (Photo by Desde Palestina)
Abdullah Marouf in hospital. (Photo by Desde Palestina)

At about 9.00 on the morning of 21st January, Abdullah was in an area approximately 250 metres from the border fence, catching birds with his two brothers. A group of five or six Palestinians they were unaquainted with were also in the vicinity, closer to the fence than they were. Abdullah had been under the impression that he would be safe, however he noticed an Israeli soldier in a watchtower on the border and others on the ground. The soldiers began firing live ammunition towards them and Abdullah was shot.

Two local farmers brought him to Kamal Adwan hospital where surgeons performed percutaneous pinning of his lower leg which had sustained damage from an entry wound and a significantly larger exit wound. He requires subsequent surgery in a couple of months to fit internal wires. His recovery is estimated to take at least 12 months.

Abdullah, who is engaged to be married, had been working with his two brothers selling scrap metal. Now they will have to support a family of nine without his help. It is unsurprising that he expressed a lack of faith in the ceasefire agreement.

One can only expect that the Palestinian resistance has also lost faith and is fast losing patience. If a response is provoked it will appear to be in a vacuum – despite this being far from the case – due to the shameful silence maintained by the international community throughout the ongoing Israeli atrocities. It is for people of conscience to protest this injustice and prevent a further escalation of Israel’s attacks on Gaza.

The long road to Bab al-Karama

20 January 2013 | International Solidarity Movement, Bab al-Karama, Occupied Palestine

The road to Bab al-Karama, the new tent neighborhood created by Palestinians on land that will be separated from the village of Beit Iksa by the Apartheid wall, exposes a landscape of Apartheid.

To reach Bab al-Karama from Occupied Ramallah one needs to take the “Palestinian only” road that runs under the “Israeli only” 443 Highway between Ramallah and Beir Naballah.

Beir Naballah used to be a suburb of Jerusalem. Affluent Jerusalemites built their homes in Beir Naballah to escape from the housing crisis imposed on Palestinians by Jerusalem’s municipality housing polices. It sits on a road that connected the villages in the area with Jerusalem and continued on to Latrun. Now Beir Naballah is completely surrounded by an Israeli wall. The old road was widened and transformed into an Israeli highway called 443. The highway now connects Jerusalem to Tel Aviv and the Palestinian residents of the area are barred form using it. The Jerusalemite residents were forced to abandon their homes and many businesses dependent on clientele from Jerusalem have closed.

UnknownWe exit Beir Naballah through a second tunnel that connects the Beir Naballah enclave to another enclave where 8 Palestinian villages are also isolated by Israeli walls. This tunnel is even more surreal than the first. Not only does it run under two Israeli only roads but as well as under the Apartheid wall and through the Givaat Zeev settlement bloc. High cement walls with razor wire on top of them hug the sides of the road.

We drive in Biddu and drive through the villages that had been since their creation connected to Al Quds but are now cut off from it and artificially connected to Ramallah. True to the Orwellian tradition of Israel’s military language they call the Palestinian network of roads they have built under their highways “fabric of life roads”. The landscape is beautiful and almost idyllic. Goats grazing on green hills, old stone houses…, but this ideal setting is surrounded by walls, gates and settlements.

The last village we reach, the one closest to Jerusalem is Beit Iksa. But to enter it we need to pass a military checkpoint. At the edge of the village we finally reach Bab al-Karama overlooking a network of Israeli highways and the city of Jerusalem. In the valley right below Bab al-Karama one can see two tunnels that will be connected by a bridge on which a fast track train connecting Jerusalem to Tel Aviv will run. The train will run on the village’s land but not only will the villagers be barred from accessing it, Israel’s Apartheid wall will be built between the village and the train separating the villagers from over 4500 dunams (60%) of their agricultural land. More than 1300 dunams had already been taken in the 70s for the construction of  Ramot Allon settlement.

Checkpoint at the entrance of Beit Iksa
Checkpoint at the entrance of Beit Iksa
View of Jerusalem and the construction of the illegal railway
View of Jerusalem and the construction of the illegal railway
Bab al-Karama
Bab al-Karama
Palestinian residents of Bab al-Karama build the mosque (Photo: REUTERS/Ammar Awad)
Palestinian residents of Bab al-Karama build the mosque (Photo: REUTERS/Ammar Awad)
Israeli Border Police invade Bab al-Karama
Israeli Border Police invade Bab al-Karama
Bab al-Karama
Israeli Border Police invades Bab al-Karama on Sunday evening (Photo: Al-Kisnawi family)

Meeting Samer Al Issawi in the holding room

16 January 2013 | International Solidarity Movement, West Bank, Occupied Palestine

By Neta Golan

samerissawi16Jan2013

After spending the night in the Russian compound detention center, known as Al Moskobia, I was taken to the holding cell in the court to await trail. Looking through the bars of the holding cell next to mine I was shocked to recognize Samer Al Issawi. I asked the young man standing near the barred door to tell Samer that I know him and that many others all over the world know his face, his name and his cause and are working to raise awareness and to support him.

When Samer heard that I had been arrested in Bab Al Shams he came up to the door to speak to me in person. He was too weak to stand without support and needed to lean himself against the door, but when he spoke he spoke with strength and passion. He sends his regards to all those who took part in Bab al Shams and says that this action has been giving him strength and pride and strengthens his resolve to continue with his hunger strike until his release. “I hope this model will spread and many similar villages will be created around Palestine. I hope to see Bab Al Muhabeh (the gate of love) Bab Al Huriya (the gate of freedom) and Bab Al Salam (the gate of peace).” Samer reiterated his resolve to continue his hunger strike until his release despite his deteriorating condition. “I will join you all on the outside soon,” he said smiling.

According to Dr. Daud Abdullah, Samer was Born in December 1979 and is now battling for his life. Long years of imprisonment, deprivation and torment have taken their toll. Still, he continues to resist with the only weapons left available to him; an undaunted spirit and an empty stomach. His resolve is never to succumb to what he regards as Israel’s racist policies.

Shortly after his release in October 2011 as part of the exchange for the release of the Israeli soldier Gilad Shailt, Samer was rearrested; this time the pretext was that he broke the condition of his release by visiting the West Bank. He faces another twenty years behind bars to complete the original sentence.

Whether he survives or not, Samer Al-Issawi has placed before the free world its moral, legal and political duties toward the Palestinians in Israeli jails. They may be “disappeared”, but they’re not forgotten. The newly-recognised State of Palestine is no less culpable. It must take the lead by activating the 2012 Baghdad Declaration at the UN for an advisory opinion from the International Court of Justice on the legal status of the Palestinians in Israeli occupation jails. That should be followed by similar action within the International Criminal Court.”

 On the 16th January, the day I met him, Samer had a court hearing in Jerusalem in which his appeal was denied. The occupation authorities  set another hearing on 5th February at Ofer military court to decide his case.

Nabi Saleh, still fighting

5 January 2013 | International Solidarity Movement, West Bank

phoca_thumb_l_3After dreaming of this moment over and over for the past three years, last Friday, 4th January, I was finally able to go to Nabi Saleh’s demonstration and meet its wonderful villagers again.

When we arrived in the village, we went to the main square where Israeli and international activists and people from the village had started to gather after the midday prayers. Some faces were familiar, some were completely new and others were simply missing; arrests and death have passed through Nabi Saleh.

After a short speech and distributing yellow flags and bands of ribbon among the people, the demonstrators started marching down to the main road of the village. They were trying to reach, like every Friday since December 2009, the water springs stolen by the settlers from Hallamish, a settlement nearby, on road 465.

Right after getting to the main road, some shebab (youth) along with Israeli and international activists put a line of rocks across the road so that the army jeeps and skunk water truck could not pass through and invade the village (“skunk” water is a malodorous chemical liquid: if sprayed by it, clothes must be thrown away and the smell stays on, it takes several weeks to go away from skin).

phoca_thumb_l_8The atmosphere was festive, the shebab singing and dancing on the front line and children running from one place to another. Suddenly, the skunk water truck started spraying towards the demonstrators and soldiers started shooting rubber-coated steel bullets and tear gas canisters into the crowd. The demonstration was soon dispersed all around the village. As some soldiers headed to the hill leading to the village, the shebab spread among the houses and hills; the shooting continued, as did the stone-throwing.

A Palestinian activist was shot in the shoulder with a rubber-coated steel bullet and another was hit in the head, neither of them critically. As the demonstration continued, the Israeli army invaded the village, continuing to shoot.

Whilst we were running from the soldiers, a door suddenly opened and the woman inside said “fadaleh, fadaleh”, and so we went in. Just then, I realized it was the same house and the same woman that provided me with the same shelter almost three years ago in a very similar situation. Then, I was also running from the soldiers and a pregnant woman opened the door of her house and invited me to enter and hide there. I sat down on a sofa and straight away she served me tea and delicious food. Her little daughter offered me a small yellowsmall teddy bear as a present. Yesterday, almost three years later, she welcomed us with the same hospitality and generosity. We stayed in her house for an hour. Her family were there, including her two-year-old daughter with whom she was then pregnant. As we were sitting, soldiers continued to raid the village. Two Israelis and one Palestinian photographer were arrested, and one Palestinian activist was beaten by soldiers and brought to the police station. We still do not know what happened to him.

phoca_thumb_l_11What I know and see with admiration is that, after three years, Nabi Saleh is still struggling against the occupation, despite multiple arrests, injuries, prison sentences and death. As Bassem Tamimi, now in jail, told me once, “the struggle will continue until the end of the occupation.”