Category: Journals - Page 44 - International Solidarity Movement

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)

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.

We 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.

View of Jerusalem and the construction of the illegal railway

Palestinian residents of Bab al-Karama build the mosque (Photo: REUTERS/Ammar Awad)

Israeli Border Police invade Bab al-Karama

Meeting Samer Al Issawi in the holding room

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

By Neta Golan

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

After 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).

The 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.

What 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.”

Reflections on a brief exchange in the aftermath of a home demolition, 4 December 2012

by Jeff Berryhill

5 December 2012 | International Solidarity Movement, West Bank

The pain and anguish on the woman’s face was penetrating. Earlier this morning two Israeli military jeeps, one civil administration vehicle, and a bulldozer had arrived at her home with orders to level the structure. This is in spite of ongoing legal proceedings seeking to preserve the home. The modest twenty square meter home was erected by the owners of the land in November of 2011. Just three days after the building was complete, the Israeli Civil Administration arrived and informed the owners that the structure was not permissible due to their failure to acquire appropriate building permits. But as these civil servants knew full well, for Palestinians acquiring building permits is no simple matter.

A Bedouin woman whose home has been demolished

The family lives in a small Bedouin village part of Aqraba, located in what is known as Area C of the Jordan Valley, a category designating territories within the West Bank which are formally under full Israeli civil and military control (as determined in the Oslo Accords). According to the Mayor, Israel is engaged in a systematic process of clearing the area of its inhabitants so that its fertile land can be appropriated for agriculture uses by nearby settlements.

This project of enclosure has caused persistent problems for the Palestinian Bedouin community living in the West Bank. Through a combination of complex bureaucratic hurdles and systematic discrimination, Israel routinely denies these communities the right to develop structures on their own property. When they take matters into their own hands (as they must to survive), Israel responds with more blunt forms of dispossession, today’s demolition being a case in point.

With the destruction of the home, the family was in desperate need of shelter. Members of the community, including civic leaders from the town of Aqraba, lent a hand in erecting a tent that would serve as their new home. A torrential downpour soon descended upon us, forcing everyone to seek temporary cover. Perhaps this was an ominous sign of the coming seasonal change and the challenges the family will inevitably face. Inside the tent, following the arrival of the Red Crescent Disaster Response division on the scene, an account of what transpired in the course of the demolition began to be recorded. Questions were primarily directed at the male owner of the home and the village mayor who was present to lend support for the family. Shortly after the rain relented, the folks inside the tent went outside and began assembling a second tent.

The building destroyed by the Israeli military was home to a family of five, and these simple tents will now serve as their only refuge from the elements. In the course of the demolition, the bulldozer also destroyed their toilet facilities and the electrical wires running to the nearby building that housed the kitchen, though those who gathered to assist the family were at least able to repair the damaged electrical wires. In addition, they also leveled a tent structure used to shield barley that serves as food for their livestock.

I sat quietly inside the tent with the woman and she poured me a second cup of tea. I watched her as she stared at the pile of rubble that was once her home, before turning her eyes to perform a visual survey of her belongings now huddled inside the tent. David and Andrea soon joined us, grabbing a seat on the single-sized bed pushed against the backside of the tent. Through Andrea’s knowledge of Arabic, we managed to engage in some simple conversation with the woman. During this brief exchange the woman revealed her pain and fears, and as she spoke tears began rolling down her cheeks. She indicated that her health and well-being were worrisome, and that being exposed to the elements like this would undoubtedly mean a turn for the worse. In a searing display of vulnerability, she said that with the destruction of her home she had nothing left to live for and now simply awaits her death. While this testimony proved tear-jerking and heart-wrenching, it was accompanied by a humbling display of compassion. Our new friend exuded a warmth and generosity that conveyed an underlying resilient spirit, bringing to life the maxim that ‘existence is resistance’. She extended sincere gratitude for our presence, calming the tensions I felt about being an onlooker to another’s misery. She patiently fielded our questions and provided poignant accounts of what this experience meant to her. At the conclusion of our exchange she said that we were like sons to her, and may god bless us.

Our powerful encounter with this 58-year-old woman occurred by mere chance, but reveals something profound about the concept of grass-roots democracy. So often we look to people of stature for insights and detail, erringly overlooking the wisdom embedded in the experiential knowledge of those most marginalized and often neglected. As an international, I often struggle to determine what it is I need to communicate to people upon returning home. Without a doubt the injustices I have witnessed deserve special attention, but perhaps just as important are the simple acts of humanity I have encountered. For within this one woman’s warmth and resilience are the seeds necessary for cultivating a better world.

The remains of the home which has been demolished

Putting up a tent where the family will live

Photos by David Langstaff.

Jeff Berryhill and David Langstaff are volunteers with the International solidarity movement.