Category: Journals

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.

International thoughts: Coping with the reality of Israeli occupation

by Iman

5 February 2012 | International Solidarity Movement, West Bank

I am … well, it is not easy to explain.

I am overwhelmed, I am shocked, grateful yet disappointed, filled with love and anger, incomprehension filled my heart and an inability to truly understand what is going on.

On the one side I think I have seen it all and on the other hand it feels like I haven’t seen a thing. All this information regarding the illegal and destructive Israeli occupation are filling my head. I thought I was prepared before I arrived but I wasn’t. I came here to be an activist, to make a statement, to be of support for the Palestinian people on site as well as for those who I’ve left at home in Germany.

But I guess I will leave with a feeling of disappointment about myself, about not having done enough, about not having been well enough prepared and mostly about the fact, that I will leave before I got really started.

I’ve been to a demonstration, and what I experienced was confusing, hard,  and yet I have the urge to continuously take part in something that I will not fully understand as it is so unreal. I have inhaled the teargas, I saw the soldiers shooting into the crowd, aiming at houses with people who cannot escape from it. The Israeli soldiers seem not to have the slightest thought about the consequences of their brutal behavior.

I have experienced the checkpoint as an international, Muslim woman who wears the veil and observed the ignorant and mostly arrogant behavior of these young teenage soldiers. I am horrified, angry,  and left paralyzed by confusion as  I try to comprehend this behavior. I simply cannot imagine that the Palestinian people have to go through that every single day without having the possibility to leave as I do–without knowing that they can go home and are safe.

My brain has difficulties coping with that, coping with the fact that almost families are having their sons, husbands, brothers, uncles, mothers, and daughers, and wives arrested for no reason. They can be held in custody for 6 months without any reason, and these 6 months can endlessly be prolonged.

Can you imagine that? Can you understand that this can mean for Palestinians a imprisonment for years. Israel calls it “administrative arrest.”  I cannot, even though I’ve met some of these former prisoners and talked to them,  help but wonder if all of this is really happening.

But the answer is: YES!

Yes this is happening in addition to the regular house demolitions, leaving families with absolutely nothing. This is happening in addition to land theft by  Zionist Israelis in order for them to build their settlements and to create a settler army that is not only fanatic but simply insane, running around with weapons while jogging with their children, attacking peaceful Palestinians, and burning down the Palestinian olive trees out of hate.

Can you really imagine all that? I still can’t and yet I have seen some of that with my own eyes…

How is it possible?

I’ve met these brave people from ISM who all follow the same goal, to support the peaceful resistance, to fight the occupation, to show solidarity. I had the pleasure of taking part in it for a minute. I learned a lot and this journey, and it has shaped me – hopefully into a better person.

I will come back insha’Allah and I will spread the word. I hope I am able to keep on working with people and help to make a change in the lives of the Palestinian people.

May God bless all who struggle for Palestine and have an eye on their well being. Amen, Amen, Amen.

Iman, an international from Germany, is a volunteer with International Solidarity Movement.

Happy birthday, dear Vittorio (RIP)

by Shahd Abusalama

4 February 2012 | Palestine from My Eyes

My drawing of Vittorio Arrigoni

As I realized today’s date, the 4th of February, a stream of memories flooded into my mind. Today, last year, marked my dear friend Vittorio Arrigoni’s last birthday I spent with him.

I remember it was a nice, rainy Friday. I felt happy to be rich, having just gotten my $1,000 share from YouthSchool for my work on the Gaza 2011 calendar “All I Want Is Peace”. My best friend Adie Mormech, an English activist who spent a year in Gaza working with the International Solidarity Movement (ISM), reminded me that it was Vik’s birthday. That day, Vik missed the Friday lunch, to which he always looked forward. I knew about Vik’s stress regarding his father’s deteriorating health, and that it was a reason he didn’t join us for lunch. He would always say “Zaki”, delicious, as his gentle but funny way of thanking Mum for the food that was fondly ranked by “his majesty” as the best in Gaza.

Having not seen him, and being worried about him, I decided to surprise him by going to the ISM office where he and the other ISMers (Adie, Inge, Vera, and Silvia) were gathering. It was already night when I left home for Mazaj, the cake shop Vik preferred, and it was raining heavily. But it was worth getting wet for the sake of Vik’s smile and the fun I expected to have when I arrived at the office. I got the cake and hurried with excitement to meet Vik and my other friends. I couldn’t wait to tell him about the greetings that his friends from Italy had told me to send him, and to put the smile on his face that always sent warmth and happiness to everyone around him.

Vera, an ISM activist from Germany, welcomed me as I knocked on the door. When she saw the excitement on my face and the cake I carried, she whispered, “It’s not the right time for a party now. Vik is sad.”

My happy features turned sad. I left the bag by the entrance and went to look for Vik. He sat in the living room alone as Vera had told me. The curtain that separated the two sitting rooms, which were open to each other, was pulled down. I felt like even the house looked sad. I wanted to check on Vik, though. After asking him if I could come in, I sat next to him on the purple couch for a couple of minutes of silence. “I hope you’re OK,” I said while pressing his hand. “I’m worried for my father,” he said. “He’s going to have an operation that might reveal a terminal illness.”

He knew that if it did not go well, his father would not have long to live. As I remember this, I think of how ridiculous and unpredictable this life is. Back then, who would have ever expected that Vik would die before his father did?

Vittorio was torn between two concerns at the center of his life: his attachment to Palestine, and his father and family’s need for his support. Each thought was more pressing than the other. Then suddenly, “Strong Vik” could no longer control his tears. I couldn’t believe that I was seeing Vik cry. Vik has been always a symbol of strength, humanity, and inspiration for me. He always will be. At the time, I felt confused and didn’t know how to act. With spontaneity, I hugged him, as I thought getting a hug in such difficult times might help more than my words. I cried along with him, too.

Then Vik learned about the cake I brought. He didn’t want to disappoint me and all my plans. He reached deep inside himself for strength to bring smiles back to the faces of his friends, smiled at me, then shouted to all the others, “Yalla, let’s have some cake”. That’s how caring Vik was; he always wanted to be a reason for everyone to smile, but never for anyone to cry. He could easily shift the atmosphere from gloomy to so happy, so much that I didn’t want to go back home.

I remember my memories from your birthday last year and oh, dear Vittorio, you can’t imagine how much I wish I could tell you how much I miss you and joke with you like we used to do.  I miss you even though I strongly feel your presence with me, like you never left us.  Every Friday that has passed without you, I’ve wished you would come for lunch, your smile lighting the room as you walked through the door.

I wish you could see my drawing that’s dearest to me. It’s your portrait that you always nagged me to make, but never got to see. I am certain that no matter how many more drawing I have produced and will produce, yours will be my favorite. Not only because of my skill, and the love that I put into it, but because, somehow, part of your beautiful soul attached itself to this painting.

As you look down from paradise, on all of us here, I offer you this drawing. I hope it brings you as much joy as you always brought us.  I miss you Vittorio. I love you, Vittorio. You will live forever in my heart and in the hearts of all Palestinians, who owe you so much. We’ll keep celebrating your birthday every year and you’ll continue to inspire us, adding more humanity to the world. Stay human!

Music against the No Go Zone

by Rosa Schiano

31 January 2012 | il Blog di Oliva

Every Tuesday we demonstrate at the Erez border crossing, in Beit Hanoun, in the northern  Gaza Strip. The demonstration started at about 11:00 AM. We headed for the No Go Zone. The No Go Zone is an area taken by Israel that extends along Gaza’s entire northern and eastern border inside Palestinian territory. For all intents and purposes, the No go Zone imposed by Israel is illegal and prevents the farmers from working part of their lands. Those who enter the area are attacked by Israel with live rounds.
This week we brought with us musical instruments, small drums, and a trumpet. We marched into the No Go Zone raising our Palestinian flags, playing music, and singing Palestinian songs like “Filisteeni” and “Onadekom.” We marched on the land ruined by the Israeli bulldozers, we crossed big ditches using our hands in a vain attempt to not to fall down into the mud, and we arrived near the separation barrier.At one point, our music was interrupted by Israel firing live ammunition at us. We were speechless at the Israeli live fire. Silently we raised our arms in the sky. Silently we looked at the border. Silence fell on the land; we heard only the sound of the Israeli gunshots that are the sound of the death. They shot toward peaceful demonstrators armed only with flags and musical instruments.

They shot toward youth that have only their voices to ask justice and freedom for their land. But the Israeli soldiers don’t know our language; they only know the language of the violence.

After a short time, bravely, we started again to sing, challenging the Israeli gunshots. We placed a Palestinian flag near the separation wall and we stood there, singing and playing music. A group of youth started to dance the Dabka.

Then, near the flag that we placed, we started to sing Bella CiaoUna mattina mi sono svegliato, o bella, ciao! bella, ciao! bella, ciao, ciao, ciao! Una mattina mi sono svegliato, e ho trovato l’invasor…

One morning I awakened, Oh Goodbye beautiful, Goodbye beautiful, Goodbye beautiful! Bye! Bye! One morning I awoke, and I found the invader…).

As an Italian, I felt a strong emotion, singing this song with all my heart with the Palestinian people.

We came back home with a smile on our faces, the music gave us joy and strength; we will never give in to the siege. Last week, the Israeli soldiers attacked us with bullets and tear gas, tear gas between our feet and bullets over our heads. Yesterday we gave this answer to the Israeli bullets: the music of our small drums against the crack of their bullets.

We will keep demonstrating against the illegal No Go Zone, against the occupation, and against the siege. We’ll keep on demonstrating with the popular resistance, we will keep demanding freedom and justice for Palestine, we will keep on demonstrating for the right of the Palestinians to their lands.

Rosa Schiano is a volunteer with International Solidarity Movement.

 

We will keep demonstrating against the illegal No Go Zone, against the occupation, and against the siege. We’ll keep on demonstrating with the popular resistance, we will keep demanding freedom and justice for Palestine, we will keep on demonstrating for the right of the Palestinians to their lands.
Rosa Schiano is a volunteer with International Solidarity Movement.


Beit Hanoun demonstration under fire

by Nathan Stuckey

25 January 2012 | International Solidarity Movement, Gaza Strip

Gaza was treated to a strange new sight today, not really new, but something that has not been seen in Gaza in a long time: tear gas.  In Gaza protests are not smashed with tear gas and clubs like in the West Bank, they are met with live ammunition.  In a continuation of Israel’s policy to separate the West Bank from Gaza, nothing is overlooked.  The sub-human status they wish to cement in the world’s mind when it comes to the people of Gaza is adhered to brutally.  On May 15th 2011, when over a hundred demonstrators were shot near Erez, only one canister of tear gas was fired. Before that the protesters faced live ammunition and tank fire.  In the three years that regular demonstrations have been carried out near Erez by the Beit Hanoun Local Initiative, regulars tell me that this was the first time they had seen tear gas.

The demonstration started like all the others.  We gathered near the half destroyed Beit Hanoun Agricultural College and marched towards the no go zone.  There were about forty of us, men and women together.  As always, the demonstrators were armed only with a megaphone and our voices.  Today, we planned to hike from Erez to the east of Beit Hanoun, near the site where two young men were murdered last week while catching birds and collecting rubble near the no go zone.  The no go zone, which used to be an area of flourishing orchards has been reduced to yielding rubble to recycle into concrete.

Israel bans the import of concrete into Gaza.  Only humans would need concrete to rebuild the thousands of houses Israel destroyed in the 2008-2009 massacres they carried out in Gaza.  In Israeli eyes, Gazans aren’t really full people; they are half people to be murdered at will for even thinking of coming close to the no go zone.

This is why we march, we deny the no go zone, and we deny the occupation.  The refugees of Gaza, thrown from their homes during the Nakba, want to return to their homes.

We walked down the muddy road that leads to the no go zone.  As we got close to the no go zone, the shooting began.  Shooting is not unexpected; bullets are the language of the occupation, at least the language that you hear.  Ethnic cleansing, oppression, and torture are also languages the occupation speaks, but the loudest voices of the occupation are the bullets and the bombs.  The bullets passed over our heads; they slammed into the dirt in front of us.  Then, the unexpected happened; the tear gas began to fall.  The clouds of tear gas were smaller than I remember from protests in the West Bank. Perhaps the shells are old, they are used so seldom in Gaza that maybe the inventory is old.

This isn’t an issue in the West Bank, there the protests are coated in tear gas, men are killed or severely injured by tear gas canisters shot at them like Mustafa Tamimi and Bassem Abu Rahma who both passed away, or Tristan Anderson, who survived. Women are suffocated by it, woman like Jawaher Abu Rahma.  It is fired into houses, schools, fields, villages; tear gas is omnipresent.  In Gaza, tear gas is a blast from the past, here the occupation has discarded that language, in Gaza, it only speaks with bullets and bombs.

At first it wasn’t clear if the protest would continue. People were shocked by the use of the new weapon.  Quickly though, a decision was reached: We would continue.  We walked east along the edge of the buffer zone.  Soldiers in concrete towers hundreds of meters away fired live ammunition at unarmed protesters walking on their own land–soldiers in concrete towers built on the land these protesters were ethnically cleansed from.

The black flag that flies over the occupation did not come down after the massacre of Kfar Kassem, it is still there, it is just that it has been flying for so long that no one remembers anything else. the black flag is like the sun, people do not remember a day before it was in the sky.

Walking in the no go zone isn’t easy.  The ground is uneven from the constant destruction of the bulldozers which Israel uses to make sure that nothing takes root there.  The ground is littered with the past: irrigation pipes, metal rods and concrete rubble from the destroyed houses.  Slowly all of this is ground up under the blades of bulldozers and treads of tanks.  We walked east, the shooting stopped for a bit.  Two soldiers appeared on a hill to the north, they raised their guns.  They lost sight of us behind a hill.  We emerged from behind a hill: we saw a tank on another hill.  Jeeps sped along the border.  The shooting began again.  Bullets flew over our heads.

Beit Hanoun demonstration under fire – Click here for more images

We reached the eastern edge of our prison and turned south.  Soldiers appeared again on a new hill.  Shooting resumed, tear gas canisters from 500 meters arced over our heads.  We stopped and reminded the soldiers that this was a nonviolent demonstration by people on their land.

They continued to shoot, then the soldiers on the hill began to yell at us with a megaphone, “Gazans are donkeys.”  Gazans are not donkeys, they are people, but perhaps if you repeat a lie often enough, people will start to believe, people like these soldiers.  We passed the carcass of a horse, rotting.  A donkey grazed to the east of the dead horse.  At least the donkey was still alive.

The soldiers continued to shoot at us, bullets and tear gas. Just as Gaza did not kneel after the 23 day massacre three years ago, we will not be stopped by bullets and tear gas.  We will continue to protest until the occupation disappears.  We will continue to protest until we achieve justice.  Without the end of the occupation and true justice, peace is impossible.  We will not accept the peace of silent oppression.  We will never accept the occupation.  Gaza will not kneel.

Nathan Stuckey is a volunteer with International Solidarity Movement.

Kufr Qaddoum: Not peanuts in the colonists’ jar

by Amal

16 January 2012 | International Solidarity Movement, West Bank

The cold and rain did not keep the residents of Kufr Qaddoum from protesting this past Friday. Even the hail storm did not stop them from demanding their equal rights. The resilience and courage of the residents cannot be summed up in words. However, this is not the message they wanted to broadcast. Besides their everyday demands for justice, they wanted to express their concern for the “Judiazation of Jerusalem.” This term refers to the Israeli strategy of erasing all Palestinian and Arab identity in Jerusalem. Kufr Qaddoum residents expressed this concern by wearing traditional Arab clothing during the protest. They proudly walked around in this traditional clothing because they know the history of this land and their legitimate connection to it. Although this was a symbolic gesture for solidarity with the Palestinians from Jerusalem, culture theft is a wide spread concern for all Palestinians.

Insisting on the culture of Palestine - Click here for more images

The term the “Judiazation of Jerusalem” does not show the entire picture because Palestine as a whole is at risk of having its  history censored. Israel’s strategy to legitimize its self consists of de-legitimizing Palestine. This strategy has been in place sinse the creation of Israel, and the tactics do not appear to be slowing down.

The Israeli government uses many methods, but one of the most inhumane is home demolitions. The Israeli Committee Against House Demolitions (ICAHD) has documented that 2011’s house demolition numbers have doubled from previous years. In order to “make room” for more illegal settlements, Israel is continuing the displacement of hundreds of Palestinians every year. As reported by ICAHD, 622 Palestinian structures were demolished and 60% of the displaced people are children.

The landscape itself has fallen victim to bulldozers and landscaping. Debris from destroyed villages is cleared, and trees are planted to create forests in an attempt to show the land was never populated, while its refugees still hold keys to their leveled homeland.

While the landscape is under attack, the very names of villages throughout Palestine have been turned into Hebrew. Rabbi Kahane, an American Zionist and ultra nationalist, stated that there was no such thing as an Arab village with an Arab name. “It is all Jewish,” and according to him, rightly so.

This attempt to destruct Palestine has of course targeted the culture in addition to the geography. In what appears to be a comical topic, Israel forges its way into Levantine culture by thieving falafel and hummus through its public stunts and marketing at supermarkets. From translating popular Arabic songs to Hebrew, to borrowing the culture of Arab Jews to mask a mostly European colonial pursuit, Palestinians still trace their authentic history to the land while most Israelis will eventually admit where they are from, while mechanically uttering state fed propaganda:

The indigenous, regardless of religion, have more in common with the land and its history than Zionist immigrants can attest to.

If Israel’s “Judiazation” procedures continue to target the land, the homes, and the people who are forcibly “replaced” by “the chosen inheritors of the land,” then the indigenous Palestinian, Arab culture will be replaced with manufactured Israeli culture.

These are the reasons why Kufr Qaddoum residents and other Palestinians resist; for their existence. Yet, when American politicians state that Palestinians are “invented,” it goes to show just how essential it is for those in solidarity with Palestine to showcase what is actually occurring on the ground: that it is Israel itself  who has manufactured itself.

It is becoming more and more obvious as insecure, violent settlers showcase the nature of colonialism, with the self righteous, pompous attitude of gun holders. No Palestinian would deface the land just to prove a point. Historical truth does not change, regardless of the millions of maps and books Israel and America author. As Edward Said stated, “It is quite common to hear high officials in Washington and elsewhere speak of changing the map of the Middle East, as if ancient societies and myriad peoples can be shaken up like so many peanuts in a jar.”

Amal is a volunteer with International Solidarity Movement (name has been changed).