Farmers stop tree-cutting in Marda for three hours

by Hannah

At 11:00 this morning, Nasfat called to tell me that Israeli workers were back today with their chainsaws, cutting trees in the village of Marda to make way for the path of the “Ariel loop” of the Annexation Wall, whose easternmost point is 22 kilometers from the Green Line. I rushed to Marda and found villagers waiting. They would go up to their land in a few minutes, they told me. One of the village leaders announced the news through the mosque’s loudspeakers, which could clearly be heard by every villager in Marda and most likely every soldier and police officer in Ariel.

When we started up the hill around 12:30, I was the only person not from Marda. Press were on their way, we were told, as was another international, but the villagers wanted to wait no longer. About 20 adult men and I started up the hill, and we were quickly followed by about 30 boys who ignored their elders’ order to stay below. We made our way towards the cut trees, and shortly before arriving, security guards and soldiers, whom most of us still could not see over the terraces and through the olive trees, began yelling at us not to come any further. When villagers advanced, one of the security guards fired a shot towards the ground directly in front of the crowd. I started to yell in English, telling them to stop, and when I finally got in view of the guards, the one who had shot pointed his gun at me and yelled, “Do not move!” I asked several times, “Can we talk to you?” Each time the response was, “Do not move!”

I surveyed the situation. There were two security guards and two soldiers in front of us, and a lot of kids behind us. I was afraid the kids might lose their patience and begin to throw stones, at which point the authorities most certainly would have lost whatever patience they had and use the only weapons they had with them: guns with live ammunition.

I was happy to hear that the Israeli workers with their chainsaws had left the area quickly upon our arrival, which was the same thing that happened on Thursday when we confronted them.

The standoff continued for a while, but not without its intense moments. Soldiers continued to arrive, and each time people tried to step forward, soldiers and guards threatened us further with shouts, guns pointed, and newly arrived tear gas canisters in hand. I had never been so relieved to see the small orange plastic containers that house the tear gas. Hopefully, I thought, their first choice of weapon now will be the gas and not the bullet.

I calmed down even more when four journalists arrived at the scene although their presence gave the boys more courage, and they began to inch forward and to chant, “Hayalim LaBayta” (“Soldiers, go home” in Hebrew). Soldiers forced them back, telling them they would only speak to a village spokesperson if everyone else stood behind a certain tree about 200 meters away. I insisted on staying near the front with “Ahmed,” though I wasn’t as smart as he was about not sharing his real name with soldiers. I figured they would find out who I was anyway, since the boys kept calling me by name. So when the soldier who was negotiating with Ahmed asked my name, and responded to my inquiry into his name (Amit), I told him, “I’m Hannah.” I’m not sure it changed the situation much, other then that the rest of the afternoon I heard shouts of “Hannah, come here” and “Hannah, go down” rather then, “Hey you, come here,” or “You with the bandanna, go down.” When he threatened to arrest me, I told him, “You can’t arrest me; you’re a soldier, not a policeman.”

We walked back and forth – east and west – a few times, to make sure workers had not returned, and to do our best to count the number of trees that had been cut today (people estimate 300 or 350, bringing the total number in the past few days to over 800). At one point the work had resumed in the west, so we made our way through the terraces as quickly as possible. When Ahmed began to advance towards the man with the chainsaw, the same guard who had shot at us earlier pushed and hit Ahmed on his arm and leg with the butt of his gun. I saw the pushing from a distance, but didn’t arrive in time to take pictures of the beating. I photographed the bruises that had already formed about a half hour later.

Suddenly we heard a loud explosion, followed by its own echo, coming from Marda; several jeeps had arrived inside the village and were throwing sound bombs, presumably as punishment for the impromptu demonstration. They left quickly, as far as we could tell from above, and we stayed on the land.

Farmers were frustrated that no soldier would claim responsibility for the situation or for the other soldiers’ or guards’ behavior, so there was no person to speak or negotiate with. Amit, who seemed to be the one with the most power and was engaging in half-hearted negotiations, kept saying that someone higher would be arriving soon. Finally Gilad, a man from the DCO who speaks fluent Arabic, arrived and began negotiations with the villagers.

By the end, close to 3:00, Gilad had promised that the work would stop for the day and that the army’s lawyer and the village’s lawyer would have a meeting tomorrow morning to decide how to proceed. Ahmed pointed out to Gilad the security guard who had hit him, to which the guard responded by picking up a chainsaw himself (from where, I don’t know) and threatening to chop more trees. We started on our last trip walking west to gather the rest of the crowd, and when we arrived Amit asked me to come forward to speak with him. I refused, and he asked me for my passport. When I refused to show it to him, a policeman stepped out from behind him and said, “Come here.” I started to walk away, through a crowd of Palestinians who were waving me through and saying, “Don’t worry, we won’t let them take you.” The police and soldiers started after me, but only for a few meters. I continued to go down and they didn’t follow. I felt slightly guilty about being part of the first group to go down, but the other international was still up there, and the rest of the group followed a couple minutes later anyway.

About a half hour after we returned to the village, the work resumed. The army had broken its promise, and workers were cutting trees. We saw clearly through binoculars that a line of about 15 soldiers had lined up directly below two workers, and other soldiers were scattered throughout the groves. People talked about going back up again, but decided they didn’t have enough people. They hoped the workers would go home soon (it was after 4), and the farmers decided to save their energies until tomorrow morning, when they will attempt to arrive on their land early enough to stop the destruction before it starts.

Just when we thought the day was over, we found out that an army bulldozer was near the center entrance to Marda, on the main settler highway #505 (the one that we successfully blocked for some time during a demonstration yesterday!). We were afraid they would cut trees as punishment for the nonviolent resistance of the past couple days, but as we watched the bulldozer moving rocks and dirt, we noticed it was only putting up another roadblock at the entrance to the road that is already closed with an army roadblock. We were perplexed, wondering if they would then move on to the only open entrance of Marda. They didn’t. As far as I know, the sole purpose of that bulldozer was to close an already-closed road.

So here we are at the end of the day. 300 more trees cut. Presumably it could have been twice that many had we not gone to the land. Marda is a strong village, with determined people. Tomorrow morning they will go back and try to protect their land.

Video from Bil’in: Olive Tree Chaining

Residents of Bil’in village, together with international and Israeli activists, chain themselves to olive trees that are to be uprooted to make way for the Israeli apartheid wall. The wall is currently being constructed in many areas of Palestine. For Bil’in it will result in the annexation of 2,400 dunums of land (600 acres) – over 50% of the land belonging to the village. This will facilitate massive Israeli settlement expansion east of the Green Line. Bil’in has carried out a series of non-violent protests against this land theft, and demonstrations are held at least once a week, usually more. The Israeli military has used excessive force against the demonstrators, regularly firing tear gas, rubber coated metal bullets, sound bombs and live ammunition at unarmed civilians peacefully protesting. Many people have been injured and arrested. In other areas of Palestine people have been killed because they have protested against the wall, including two children who were shot dead on the same day that this video was filmed, a short distance away in Beit Liqya.

Video (right click and “save as”):
64kb MPEG4 (13mb)
256kb MPEG4 (29mb)
MPEG1 Version (168mb)

Report From Hebron

by Ian

It’s the first day of Eid. After the long fasting days of Ramadan, families all over the city are coming together to celebrate. This year, though, the festivities have a sombre undertone. Arafat was buried yesterday in Ramallah.Posters showing his image next to that of Hebron’s Ibrahimi Mosque are plastered over walls and the windscreens of cars and taxis.

11 year-old Mohamad from the family upstairs has just arrived to wish us a happy new year. He’s in his new suit, very smart and proud. We all wish him the same, in excruciating Arabic. But in Hebron the happiness of children like Mohamad depends on circumstances beyond his control, and beyond the control of his huge, close, protective family. His good fortune will ultimately depend on how the occupying forces are feeling. A bored young soldier at a checkpoint can, on a whim, turn your day into a nightmare. Everyone you meet has a story of physical abuse from soldiers and police. Everyone.

A group of us are staying in an apartment owned by Mohamad’s father. A dozen or so young children constantly tumble in and out. None of us has much Arabic, but it’s OK. Everyone tunes in to the universal language of football, hide and seek, mimicry, giggling…

It is an inspiration to be living among these beautiful, generous people. Palestinians don’t have much, but whatever they have they share. Hospitality isn’t a way of life here, it is life itself. Food materialises at regular intervals. People greet you in the street, bring you out sweets and biscuits. Already, this feels like our neighbourhood. Sometimes, when you’re walking in a remote suburb, there’s tension – strangers here almost always mean trouble. You get the occasional stone thrown. Almost always, people intervene when they realisewe’re not army or settlers, but it is heartbreaking to see so many kids brutalised by the conditions here. A collapsed economy, severe poverty – stone throwing’s the only game in town.

Now Eid has arrived, all the children have cheap new toys. Girls have many different cheap new toys. All the boys have cheap new toy guns. Evenings are mostly spent talking. drinking tea, smoking argilah – a soothing, fruit-flavoured hookah job which is really welcome after a hard day. There’s a lot of laughter here. Someone mentions the new graffiti that’s appeared in the Old City: ‘Arabs to the gas chambers.’

No matter how prepared you are for life under the Occupation. you have to see it to understand just how fatuous the common perceptions are back home. Politicians, terrified of being accused of anti-Semitism if they criticise Israeli government policy, talk constantly of how ‘both sides in the conflict’ must take action to secure a just and lasting peace. Bollocks. Both sides? The oppressor and the oppressed?

Mohamad and his family are not a ‘side’. They are part of a Palestinian community being relentlessly and ruthlessly driven from their homes and their land. Illegal settlers control this region – the army and the police defer to them – and they act with total impunity. A couple of days ago we were forced to wait for half an hour while ID was checked. A recently-arrived settler had spotted that we were with a member of the local Christian Peacemaker Team (CPT). The settler was clearly theone giving orders. He took the passport from the soldier and insisted on further scrutiny. The soldier just did as he was told. Every settler you encounter seems unhinged. The sort of person you pray doesn’t sit next to you on the bus. Secure behind the armed Israeli checkpoint barrier, he ostentatiously celebrated Arafat’s death, punching the air in jubilation. He joked to anyone who listened that Arafat had AIDS.

He was from Quebec. Lucky Quebec.

The CPT does great work here – accompanying local children to school, trying to protect them from settler attacks. Two CPTers were recently severely beaten by masked settlers armed with baseball bats and chains. We met one of them while olive-picking the other day. She suffered a broken arm and severe bruising. The other guy got broken ribs and a punctured lung. Here’s a test for the ‘both sides’ brigade: what concession should children walking to school between illegal settlements make in the cause of peace? Less provocative lunch boxes?

Another Occupation Myth is that the West Bank settlements are few, remote and isolated. And that they keep themselves to themselves. Hebron, where the earliest Zionist settlement in Palestine was founded (Kiryat Arba) is now surrounded by illegal development on stolen land. And it’s closing in. Since 1968, Israelis – many arriving here from far beyond the Middle East – have seized 48% of the land in Greater Hebron region for their settlements. A further 24 ‘outposts’ have been staked out for inevitable expansion.

That’s how it works here. Some distance from a main settlement, a caravan or trailer appears overnight. A week later, another. Then another. One or two settlers with dogs and guns move in. Fences are erected (for security).

The army establishes a presence (for security). Which means a road. And more fences. More trailers. Barriers. Gates. Walls. The construction of houses. In a matter of months, it is a fortified, illegal and rapidly expanding settlement. A ‘fact on the ground.’

Having encircled Hebron, the next objective here is absolute control. Ethnic cleansing and cultural erasure are now well underway. The area around Shehada Street, close to the mosque, was once a thriving market area.

Now it’s a dead zone, only marginally less terrifying in daylight than in darkness. Shehada Street itself has been commandeered for settler use only. Ancient stone gateways are blocked by steel gates with slip bolts on the ‘Israeli’ side.

Through intimidation – and that other great weapon of oppression through the ages, bureaucracy – souk traders have been forced out. Houses are deserted, or have been taken over by the army for observation and sniper posts.

Street closures are often arbitrary, but always sudden. And when they close yourstreet, you can’t use your front door. It means you and your family must exit via the roof, enter a neighbour’s house and get out through their front door.

Only a few years ago there were around 7,500 Palestinians living in the central Old City area. Now there are fewer than 1,500. In the same area between 450-500 settlers have moved in. They’re guarded by 2,000 soldiers. At times of increased tension, 4,000.

Along the main street that runs through the Old City there is chain link fencing. It’s the same fencing used by the Israelis to sketch out the boundaries of their land grabs, before they ink them in with concrete and steel. Here, though. it is has been erected horizontally, not vertically, and by Palestinians.

Why? A section of the street is unroofed. There, squatting on the alley wall itself, is the towering bulk of the settlement’s flank wall. The chain link fencing is to protect passers-by from being pelted with objects thrown from settlement windows. There, trapped in the improvised netting is the forensic evidence of a feral hatred: discarded cans, bottles, food. Rocks. Bricks. Sometimes they tip out their piss.

Another myth is the idea of an Israeli Defence Force. Defence is not what’s happening here. It is aggression. A civilian population suffers routine humiliation and casual violence at the hands of the IDF every day. From our apartment window we can see the neighbouring hill, blanketed with homes.

At the summit are three new schools. Not that they were schools for long. Shortly after opening they were taken over and turned into a heavily armed police station. When resistance fighters started firing shots at neighbouring settlements, they sent tank shells randomly into residential areas. It was two days before we discovered that the hole in our living room wall was the result of one of these blind reprisals. Hebron is a microcosm of the West Bank: Palestinians gradually walled in and forced out by intimidation. Rubble everywhere. Everything possible has been done to crush the spirit of these people, but it hasn’t worked. There must be more children here per square mile than anywhere I’ve been.

Hope may be thin on the ground among the older people, but the sheer weight of children’s optimism is what keeps you going. And in the end, it’s the children’s faces that stick in the mind. The settlers’ children, for instance, who stood with their parents at a demo the other day, watching as the soldiers soundbombed and teargassed us. Blank faces. What were the parents telling them?

That we are evil, that we are Nazis, that we should be exterminated? Lovely, gentle Mohamad in his new suit. What will the future hold for him, and Aseel, and Marwan, and Razar, and Asme, and all his other brothers, sisters, cousins? How long before he is arrested for the first time, plucked at random from the crowd, simply for being a Palestinian teenager in the Occupied Territories? When will he be beaten for the first time?

We will be leaving here in a few days. Everyone has promised to stay in touch, and I for one will miss the kids, just having them round, just about the only sane, recognisable part of life here in this devastated place. We’ll probably never see them again. And if anything happens to them, it will beyour fault and mine, because we didn’t shake off this wicked Occupation. That’s where the ‘peace process’ starts, and it must start now.

The Israelis categorise every Palestinian as a terrorist, and use this as an excuse to brutally repress them. It is the Roman Empire. It is white-controlled South Africa. Those empires fell, as this one must.

Mohamad’s back. ‘Hello. How are you?’ he says in careful, perfect English.

How am I? I’m afraid, and guilty.

Quiet in Hebron Is Not All Right

By ISM volunteers in Hebron

I visited Hebron between the dates of September 13th and 20th 2004, part of a group of 10 ISM activists which included 5 Buddhists from the UK. Tariq was our local coordinator. He is 24 years old, a student of engineering. I learnt that his father had been detained without trial by the Israeli army for the past 2.5 years, the rest of his family had emigrated to Jordan but that he was refused exit from Israel because of his father – who he is not allowed to visit.

His top two projects for us were first to help local villages resist the Israeli Apartheid Wall that was being built on their land, and second to help the situation in the Old City, now almost a ghost town because of the great number of soldiers there and the difficulty of living so close to the aggressive Israeli settlers. This report focuses on the Old City not the Wall. Topics:

Closure of Shuhadda Street to Palestinians Checkpoints and Soldiers patrols – Freedom of movement

Army closure of shops Continuous curfew for 3 years Death of the Old City market Settlers’ harassment Process of colonization, extension of illegal settlements Tit-for-Tat violence Collective punishment Water rights – Economic warfare Settlers’ propaganda / Media blackout

Hebron is presently unique in the West Bank because it has a substantial illegal Israeli settlement (Beit Hadassah) right in the very centre of the Old City, creating a situation where the lives of some 60,000 Palestinians are systematically disrupted by some 4,000 soldiers for the sake of some 400 settlers. It is a ludicrous situation and would almost be funny if it was not so real and the cause of so much suffering for so many people. It is also a part of a much larger process of gradual illegal invasion and colonization.

During the time we were in Hebron the situation was relatively quiet and there was little for us to do except walk about the Old City meeting people and speaking with them. Most people were very friendly as soon as we said “Salaam Al-e-Qum” and smiled, however there was clearly a lot of tension in the air and some suspicion – probably because the settlers are in the habit of walking up and down ‘their’ city and there is a real fear of them extending their territory.

We were staying for a night in one of the further suburbs of Hebron, and when leaving in the morning, passed a little girl who started crying violently – we learnt later that she thought we were settlers! In general though we were made very welcome indeed – very few friendly foreigners find their way to Hebron these days.

Quiet it might have been, but I should emphasize very strongly that ‘quiet’ does not mean ‘all right’. Once or twice in the silent streets I found myself thinking “this seems all right” and had to remind myself of the facts of the matter.

Closure of Shuhadda Street to Palestinians

Despite Hebron being a part of Palestine and not Israel, the main street of the town (Shuhadda Street) is now completely closed to Palestinians, except for the very few who live there. This means the town is effectively cut into two halves, to cross those few yards means a detour of several kilometers. The town’s graveyard is on the wrong side of the road, this means local people are unable to visit their family tombs.

Shuhadda Street has become a sort of mid-Western film set – hot, dusty, and empty, with guns never very far away. The only people who walk up and down it now are the settlers, who generally carry machine guns, even the young teenagers, strange to see them toting machine guns and their Jewish kippa caps on. This is quite scary to see, even for me, who was less likely to be shot at.

We were not able to speak to any settlers although we could probably have arranged it if we had wished, being Internationals. It was clear however that there is absolutely no communication between locals and settlers. The soldiers are supposed to be there to keep the peace between the two sides but this seems to mean keeping the locals firmly to the edges and allowing the settlers to walk where they please. Certainly the Palestinians do not see the soldiers there to keep the peace, rather to dominate them.

Checkpoints and Soldiers patrols

Behind the main street are a maze of smaller streets leading up to the Old City. These can only be reached by passing an army checkpoint continuously manned by soldiers with machine guns, making passage into the Old City a nerve-wracking affair.

Most days however, what is in a way worse than the machine guns is the arbitrariness of the soldiers: they can detain any Palestinian at any time for any or no reason, and often do, making them sit at the side of the road in the hot sun for many hours at a time.

Not surprisingly people have chosen to avoid the area, and the town’s main market has moved about 1km away.

In addition to the checkpoints, in the narrow streets of the Old City there are frequent 6-man soldiers’ patrols, before they enter you can hear them lifting their machine guns into firing position and cocking the trigger. No doubt they are afraid themselves but it is very intimidating to hear.

Hebron is well-known among international aid agencies, we met CPT (the Christian Peacemaker Team) and TIPH (the Temporary International Presence in Hebron) while there. TIPH’s job is to monitor and report on the situation, CPT intervenes more actively if local people are being harassed.

Army closure of shops

As well as the checkpoints and the patrols, about 200 of the Old City shops have been summarily closed by military order, and many houses have had their front doors welded closed by the army. This means that in some cases the owners can only enter and leave their homes through a window at the rear of the house, or over the rooftops.

Continuous curfew for 3 years

In addition to the checkpoints, the patrols, and the closed shops, the Old City has suffered from a strict curfew for three of the past four years. An Israeli army curfew generally means that the soldiers have orders to shoot to kill on sight, it creates an extremely dangerous situation for any person to go anywhere at any time, even outside the official curfew hours. This includes delivery of basic supplies of food and medicine, and also the movement of children, who are as likely to be shot as adults under a curfew.

Who can blame the shopkeepers and market stallholders for moving?

Although the curfew is not presently in force, evidence of the effects of Army violence and repression is everywhere – bullet holes in shopfronts, cobwebs on the fronts of shops…

Although things were quiet, the Army has retained all its observation and sniper positions around the city – many of the most strategic buildings have camouflage netting draped over the top balcony or steel observation posts perched on the roof. We were told that in reality sniper positions are often concealed, but occupied or not, the visible ones create a constant and frightening reminder that the city is under armed occupation and that curfew can be reimposed at any time.

Settlers harassment

In addition to the checkpoints, the patrols, the closed shops and the curfew, we heard a great many reports of vandalism and verbal abuse by the settlers.

In many cases the houses of the settlers directly overhang the streets of the Old City, and here the locals have had to fit thick metal mesh across the streets to catch the rubbish that has been thrown out of the settler’s windows onto the street – and the Palestinians – below. In several cases the metal mesh was sagging due to the weight of debris above. It is of course impossible for me to say what motives the settlers may have for throwing rubbish in this way – had they wished to continue being malicious t hey could have thrown foul water, but I did not hear of this being done. Nonetheless they must have known full well that the streets below their windows were Palestinian streets. A lot of Palestinian windows were smashed, apparently by stones often thrown by settlers’ children.

These all combined – together with the real violence of recent years – have made the whole of the Old City into a ghost town. The reason given by the Army is always “security”, but one feels the real aim is colonization, certainly the effect is depopulation of the Old City through fear and strangulation.

These processes of displacement and harassment have not ended yet.

Process of colonization, extension of illegal settlements

On the outskirts of Hebron is the much larger illegal Israeli settlement of Qiryat Arba. For those interested, this means ‘Town of the Four’, referring to the four biblical couples reported to be buried here in the Cave of Machpelah under the Ibrahami Mosque – Adam and Eve (!), Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebecca, and Jacob and Leah. This biblical fame explains a good deal of why the city has become such a battleground and focus for extremist Israeli settlers – it is the no.2 site in Palestine for both Jews and Muslims. The locals probably wish it had never been mentioned! It was a women from Qiryat Arba who in 1979 illegally occupied the old Jewish hospital of Beit Hadassah in Hebron’s Old City, leading directly to its present death-like state.

Walking up to Qiryat Arba, and along the road which marks the border between Israeli and Palestinian areas, one sees graffiti which has been sprayed on the doors of many Palestinian homes – Stars of David and angry writing in Hebrew (which I have not yet been able to translate but will). The feeling I get is that the graffiti is saying “you’re next…” and I can imagine that it is extremely intimidating to receive. It is in fact eerily similar to tactics used by the Nazis in Germany, not a happy thought.

Of course you can dismiss provocative graffiti as being ‘only’ spray paint, more concretely there are plans afoot for a new Israelis-only road to link Qiryat Arba with the Cave of Machpelah and one can be sure that it will not be long before it is extended a few yards further to the illegal settlement in the heart of the city. Up on the border road, there are plans to construct a new Jewish synagogue on the Muslim side immediately adjacent to Muslim homes. This is presently being blocked by the Israeli authorities – but it is probably only a matter of time until they arrange the necessary military cover – ie a new Army checkpoint or base – and it goes ahead!

Hebron has a long history with ownership moving between Jews and Muslims many times over the centuries. For this reason, since the Jews started their illegal settlements in the area there have been major propaganda efforts to justify their right to be here, an Internet search looking for ‘Hebron’ or ‘Beit Hadassah’ will quickly lead you to some of these.

They consider their occupation of Hebron to be legitimate because there were Jews living there in the past, most recently in 1929 and most anciently when Abraham purchased the cave of Machpelah for his burial site sometime around 1,800 B.C! Their desire to live here would not be so bad if it was based on a desire to peacefully co-exist. Instead the settlers have gone on record as aiming to completely expel the Palestinians from Hebron or at least from its Old City. This is no idle threat as the 4,000 soldiers based here constantly remind one.

Tit-for-Tat violence

Over the years there has been a great deal of violence in Hebron, not least in 1994 when Baruch Goldstein, a settler, entered the mosque and massacred 29 Muslims while they were at prayer, wounding a further 200. According to my guidebook, there is now a shrine to him in the adjacent illegal Israeli settlement of Qiryat Arba. The guidebook (Lonely Planet) describes him as “a popular settler hero”. Not surprisingly there has been a good deal of tit-for-tat violence over the years, but with the massive army presence in town it is mostly Palestinian civilians who are injured or killed.

Palestinian suicide bombers have certainly killed settlers over the years, and this led to an Israeli Army invasion of whole district & city in 2002 – after similar invasions of Jenin, Tulkarm, etc. We were told that the Israeli Army becomes nervous if it is not able to operate inside a city. The invasion is partly a tactic to expose & kill – to ‘flush out’ – the most active resistance fighters.

Collective punishment

As well as being in the Old City, we spent some time in other areas of Hebron, and it was here that it was most obvious that what is happening on Hebron’s Old City is part of a much larger violent occupation of the whole country. The reality of the situation is not immediately apparent to the naked eye, you have to have things explained by a local. For instance, there are many gaps or piles of rubble between the houses. Why?

Collective punishment has been very much used by the Army, this usually takes the form of blowing up or bulldozing the family home of anyone who has been discovered to be a suicide bomber or other form of fighter. To give an example, we stayed in a house in the suburbs, next door there was an empty space with a big pile of rubble. On asking, we were told that this house was blown up by the Israeli Army some three months ago, the explosion was so violent that it blew in all the doors and windows on that side of our host’s house. The family were living in a makeshift tent in one corner of the space. Across the small valley we could see a bulldozer working, we were told that was a house which had been blown up only last week. On the corner of the street was a small corrugated iron shop, the owner used to occupy a five-storey house on the site before that was blown up some years ago.

These are examples of collective punishment, which is specifically outlawed under international law and the Geneva Conventions, which prohibit the punishment of innocent people who may be connected with a ‘guilty’ party. Israel and her Supreme Court have consistently refused to uphold the Geneva Conventions and the illegality of its collective punishment, using a variety of reasons but notably that the Occupied Palestinian Territories (ie the West Bank) never constituted a sovereign state so Israel’s invasion and occupation of Palestine do not count as the invasion and occupation of another country – and so international humanitarian law does not apply!

Water rights – Economic warfare

Besides collective punishment, there is lower-level but on-going economic warfare being waged by Israel against the Palestinians. An example of this is water – Hebron has many natural springs, but local people are not allowed to use them. Instead they have to buy water at considerable cost, often delivered by tankers, while Israel helps itself to 80% of the water in the underground aquifers for intensive agriculture and ‘modern’ plumbing. .

Conclusion

We went to Hebron at Tariq’s invitation, inspired by his vision of bringing life back into the Old City. He thought that our presence might give locals confidence to re-enter it in greater numbers. Maybe we had some effect, it is hard to be sure. One idea he had was to organize a daily ‘boy’s march’ through the checkpoint (children below a certain age do not need ID) to generate momentum and confidence in entering the Old City, followed by us or others putting on a concert or other entertainment to draw in the locals.

One thing we realized while there was just how hard it is to actually DO anything faced with such overwhelming odds and where people have more-or-less got used to the wrongness of the situation. We felt very strongly Tariq’s – and I am sure, thousands of others’) acute frustration and yet puzzlement what to do.

ISM has now established a flat for volunteers in the centre of the Old City, as we left five others arrived, and hopefully they will build on what we have done so far. One day, Palestine will be free …