Gaza: Planting the symbol of Palestinian livelihood

12 October 2011 | International Solidarity Movement, Gaza

The zone of death, what Israel calls the buffer zone, to the north of Beit Hanoun isn’t shrinking but is a little less dead.  For the last three years, the only life that has managed to survive here was a few scraggly plants that somehow manage to survive the IOF’s regular bulldozing of the land.  These plants have been joined every Tuesday by a devoted group of activists from the Local Initiative of Beit Hanoun and the International Solidarity Movement.  Israel had managed to wipe out all traces of what used to be here, houses, sprawling orchards, fields of vegetables, and grazing sheep. For two weeks the Beit Hanoun Local Initiative decided to leave behind something more than Palestinian flags when they went into the buffer zone.  They left behind a grove of olive trees.

We gathered this Tuesday, the 11th of October, to tend to this grove, the only reminder of what used to be here, before Israel destroyed everything.  There were about 20 of us, one van, and one tuk tuk to carry water.  We set out for the zone of death at eleven A.M.  Usually, we march down the road into the zone of death, but today, we were carrying water for the trees, we rode.  As always, the tension increases as you get nearer the zone of death.  You never know when the soldiers will shoot.  The IOF threaten to shoot anyway within 300 meters of the border, but they aren’t very good at measuring distance, the soldiers shoot people up to a kilometer away.

We reached the edge of the dead zone, passed out giant green jugs of water, and started forward to tend to our trees.  It isn’t an easy walk, carrying a heavy jug of water over ground that has bulldozed too many times to count.  It is made easier though with the knowledge that we are going to only grove of olive trees that exists in the buffer zone, the twenty olive trees that we have planted over the previous two weeks.  The olive tree has always been an important symbol in Palestine, it is not just the universal symbol of peace, but it is also a symbol of the tie to the land that the people here feel.  This is their land, they will not abandon it.  The ethnic cleansing of the Nakba and Naqsa will not be repeated.  We pour the water on trees. Every tree gets some water.  Sadly, one of the trees appears to be dying.  We give it extra water.

We finish watering the olive trees.  We admire our work, what we have accomplished.  We have returned life to the buffer zone, not just for the short time when we are here for the demonstration, now there is a 24 hour presence here.  The next time Israel decides to bulldoze the zone of death the driver will not be able to tell himself that he is bulldozing nothing, that this was a land without a people.  He will know he is bulldozing someone’s olive grove; his bulldozer is crushing peace.  Before we left Sabur Zaaneen from the Beit Hanoun Local Initiative spoke for us all, “The popular resistance is stronger than the occupation; we will continue the struggle until the occupation ends.”

We will continue the struggle until Palestinian olive orchards can grow on all the land of Palestine.

A letter from Nariman Tamimi to the world

7 October 2011  | International Solidarity Movement, West Bank

On 27 September 2011 Palestinian prisoners held in Israeli prisons announced the start of a campaign of disobedience to protest an escalating series of punitive measures taken against them by the Israeli Prison Service. Today marks the 8th day of their hunger strike.

A call for Solidarity actions around the world has been issued for this friday 7/10 where you can find your local initiatives here.

Today outside a sit-in at the Red Cross in Ramallah I met with Nariman Al Tamimi from Al Nabi Saleh village.

Bassem Tamimi photo: ActiveStills

Nariman is an ex-prisoner herself and the wife of the political prisoner Bassem Al Tamimi. As a resident of the village her family has been suffering from the Israeli occupation on a daily basis. In the space of 5 years she has been shot a total of 7 times, while her eldest son Wa’d who is 14 years old has been shot with rubber bullets over 10 times. Furthermore, their house faces the threat of immediate demolition by Israeli forces.
Due to her history Nariman has become a symbol of “somoud”- steadfastness- to many Palestinians. Despite the endless tragedies she is continually facing, she never wavered from demanding for her and her people’s full legitimate rights. Today from the sit-in in Ramallah, Nariman wished to send a message to the world urging them to take solidarity actions with the hunger strikers in Israeli jails.

I want to tell the world about international law and all the human rights resolutions that are meant to protect including the rights of prisoners of war. I would like to ask why these laws are not protecting our prisoners? Why are the human rights activists not doing anything regarding the Israeli violations? Why is the world still silent?

All we want is to be able to see our sons, daughters, husbands, fathers and mothers. We want them to be treated according to International Law. We want to have our rights like anyone else around the world. I am sure most of you heard about the Israeli captured militant ‘Gilad Shalit,’ but I wonder if you heard about the 8000 Gilad Shalits in Israeli jails? Most of the them are civilians, including children and women. I call all human rights organizations and activists to take the side of justice and save our prisoners.

Statistics of Palestinian Political Prisoners:
-340 Palestinian children are being held in Israeli Prisons
-There are well over 120 women in Israeli prisons, 17 of these women are mothers. 2 have given birth in prison. The youngest female currently held is 12 years of age.
-The majority of these detainees are being held in violation of the IV Geneva Convention in prisons outside of the West Bank and Gaza Strip.

(Source: Addameer, Human Rights Centre and prisoners support)

Say NO to injustice and take part of the solidarity actions with Palestinian Prisoners. Visit here for more details.

Gaza: Planting in something dead

5 October 2011 | International Solidarity Movement, Gaza 

Around Gaza is a 300 meter “buffer zone,” a no go zone, a land of death.  Gaza is not just a prison, it is a shrinking prison.  Every time that Israel expands this zone, Gaza gets a little smaller.  Every Tuesday, the Beit Hanoun Local Initiative and the International Solidarity Movement march into the buffer zone to challenge the occupation and the theft of Palestinian land.  Today, we also marched in solidarity with the Palestinian prisoners who are on hunger strike in the jails of the occupation.

What could be more logical than one group of prisoners marching in support of another group of prisoners?

We gathered near the Agricultural College of Beit Hanoun at 11 a.m.  We loaded olive trees, shovels, and big jugs of water onto the van.  There was no space in the van, so all of the goods rode on top of the van.  We set off down the road toward the buffer zone, slowly so that nothing would fall off the van as we drove down the rutted road.  We reached the buffer zone, stopped the van, and began to unload the olive trees and everything necessary to plant them.  These olive trees would join the others that we planted last week.  We plan on slowly returning the lands of the buffer zone to what they were before the Israeli’s declared the area a zone of death, we plan on making olive groves flourish in the buffer zone.  Our struggle is not just to return life to the buffer zone, but to make a regular life possible in the areas close to the buffer zone.

The buffer zone is now a little greener than yesterday after planting 20 trees in the buffer zone.  The death that haunts this area is a result of the occupation and its relentless destroying bulldozers.  The same bulldozers that crushed Rachel Corrie to death in Rafah in 2003.

Sabur Zaaneen from the Beit Hanoun Local Initiative spoke.  He said that we must “affirm our right to land and cultivate and strengthen the resilience of farmers and their return to work the land despite all the terrorist practices of the Israeli occupation.”

“[We] need for a mass movement to support the Palestinian prisoners in Israeli jails.”

The psychology and coping of Balata refugee camp

by Alistair George

30 September 2011 | International Solidarity Movement, West Bank

Balata refugee camp, 2km east outside of Nablus, in the North of the West Bank, is a densely packed grid of permanent buildings and tight streets, many narrower than shoulder-width.   Buildings rise higher each year as residents add extra storeys to cope with chronic overcrowding and lack of space.  Having been founded in 1950, Balata was initially designed to house 5000 refugees forced from their homes during the 1948 Nakba [Catastrophe].  There are now more than 25,000 people crammed into the 1km2 camp and many residents live in extreme hardship with poverty, limited educational opportunities, poor health and mass unemployment added to overcrowded housing conditions.

The Yafa Cultural Centre was founded in 1996 to address many of the problems faced by Balata’s inhabitants.  The bright, modern building is located near the Jacob’s Well entrance to the camp and rises several stories high.  It is full of bustling activity as Balata residents and international volunteers mingle.

The Centre has a children’s library providing much needed access to books, educational films and games to children in the camp.  There is a media centre which trains young people in journalistic skills and produces films depicting the reality of life in Balata, many of which have been shown in Europe, the USA and across the West Bank.  A computer laboratory provides internet access and courses in Microsoft Office programs and Photoshop.

The Centre has a modern, fully-equipped theatre where students learn musical instruments and dabke (Arabic folk dancing).  Local residents work with international volunteers, such as dance choreographers and lighting technicians, to gain the necessary skills to stage plays – often representing the history of the camp and the Palestinian people.

Mustafa Farah is a young man from Balata, wearing a back-to-front baseball cap and a garish orange ‘Dubai’ t-shirt.  Like many residents, Mustafa is extremely proud of the Centre and its achievements.  Mustafa says that the Centre provided him with a camera and photography courses run by international volunteers and has enabled him to produce work as a photographer, graffiti artist and music producer.  His photography has been exhibited in London, although he was unable to get the necessary permits to attend.

Mohammed Issa, is an affable, bearded 32 year old man.  He has lived in Balata all his life, although his family was expelled from a small village next to Tulkarm in 1948, which now lies behind the green line in Israel.  Like many residents of the camp, Mohammed does not want to gain full Palestinian citizenship as it would mean forgoing the right to return to his family’s village.  Mohammed struggled to find work until he was given a job at the Centre as an IT support worker and tour guide, showing foreign visitors around the camp.

Mohammed says that the Centre does incredible work in developing the skills of Balata residents, particularly focusing on women and the youth, and promoting democracy and civil society.  The Centre also plays a vital role in raising awareness of the historical plight of the Palestinians and the continuing resonance of the Nakba.

However, Mohammed worries greatly about the psychological impact of the Israeli occupation, particularly on the camp’s children.

Balata played a leading role in the First and Second Intifadas and the camp has been subjected to repeated incursions, killings and sniper attacks by the Israeli military.  During their incursions into the camp, the Israeli military has been reluctant to pass through the dense, narrow streets of Balata, preferring instead to occupy houses and travel across the camp by smashing through walls to move through adjacent properties.  Israeli forces continue to stage raids in Balata, arresting residents in the middle of the night.

Mohammed remembers a child handing him a piece of human flesh after a Palestinian was killed in the camp by Israeli military gunfire, “Who can hold such a thing in their hands?” he said.

He describes how he has seen children mimicking what they have witnessed by assuming the roles of Palestinian and Israeli soldiers; interrogating and beating each other whilst playing in the street.

As we walk through Balata there are many young boys playing in the streets, brandishing plastic toy guns.  The Yafa Cultural Centre has a psychological unit providing therapy to the Balata residents but Mohammed worries for the future of the children as the trauma of the conflict is so ingrained and pervasive.

Mohammed admits to finding the emotional pressures of the living in the camp hard to bear.

He said, “I am proud to be a Palestinian and proud to be from Balata, but for me the camp is also like a prison.”

He used to escape the confines of the camp by hiking in the mountains that frame Balata but this is no longer possible as they have been taken over by Israeli military and observation posts.

Mohammed is still struggling to come to terms with the death of his younger brother, Ibrahim, who was killed by Israeli soldiers in 2006 at the age of 15.

Ibrahim was drinking tea on the rooftop of his house with a friend and another brother, when Israeli soldiers shot him from an adjacent building which they had occupied.  Mohammed was sleeping in the house at the time and remembers waking to the sounds of distress that his mother and sister were making, “When I heard my mother and sister screaming I felt like a bullet had entered my own heart”.  He rushed to the rooftop where he found his wounded brother lying next to a table laid out with tea.  Ibrahim died in Mohammed’s arms; “He was more like a son than a brother to me.  He could look into my eyes and know straight away how I was feeling, what I was thinking.”  The Israeli military claimed afterwards that his brother had attacked them from the rooftop but Mohammed insists that “this was a lie – they were just drinking tea”.

Despite the collective hardship and trauma suffered by the people of Balata, the Yafa Cultural Centre offers respite, friendship and precious educational and cultural opportunities.  They are always looking for international volunteers to share their skills and solidarity with the people of Balata.  A theatre production at the centre on the 20 October 2011 will showcase the camp’s dabke, Palestinian hip-hop and storytelling talents.  Several weeks of hard work between volunteers and creative Balata residents will demonstrate that there is the hope amongst the hardship in the 61 year old refugee camp.

 

Alistair George is an activist with International Solidarity Movement (name has been changed).

Observations from Hebron daily life

26 September 2011 | International Solidarity Movement, West Bank

A child of about eight years old sneaks past a multitude of soldiers at as they hold back Al Rumeida residents from climbing the hill to their homes. He runs into the corner store, comes out and joyously waves his forbidden purchases at them–a bag of candy—and continues running home.  A settler funeral was going on in a Jewish cemetery half way up the hill.  Although the procession only took about two hours, Checkpoint 56 at the bottom of the hill was closed for five hours.

Palestinian women on the bus chat happily and endure the wait it takes to fill the bus from Bethlehem to Hebron. A young Bedoin woman with a small child does not miss the opportunity to try to make a sale. She shows the lone tourist on the bus some exquisitely woven money bags and pillow shams. Everyone hustles: it is called survival. Whether it is olive soap, scarfs, kafiyas, watches, Kleenex packages, or bread, Hebron Palestinians hauk their wares daily.

A merchant selling fruit juice noisily liquefies carrot juice five meters from where the supposed Settler Hebron Tour passes.  According to the sanctimonious settler, something happened to someone who lived or died some 100 or 2,000, or 3,000 years ago. The merchant grinds on.

A gaggle of children, some as young as four years old,  run and bang on metal doorways yelling in unison as they hurry through the old city alleys together with journalists and international observers, only to be stopped at intervals by many soldiers who protect the Saturday Jewish Settler Hebron Tour.  A small child pushes his metal cart through the cobblestones. The din is deafening.  Local Palestinian merchants sitting in their stalls endure it for the sake of resistance. This has been going on for years. They wait.  The Zionist settlers look terrified even though one of the strongest military in the world protect their parade.

They have been taught from a very young age that the Palestinians want to kill them or push them into the sea. It is a tragic drama where the aggressors play the role of victims although in reality, all are victims, either of deception or of cruelty.

A woman merchant is accosted by a gang of settlers during the tour.  One  tells her that her Palestinian map is wrong: that it should be all Israel. She stands up to them, albeit afraid, and declares it is indeed Palestine and if they don’t like it they can go elsewhere. “We have been here for 64 years, and we will be here another 64 years,” she said, defiantly.   And they will.