The Peaceful Way Works Best

By Gideon Levy
http://www.haaretz.com/hasen/spages/393347.html

There’s a remote little village in the West Bank that decided to behave differently. A village whose residents decided not to lament and not to blow themselves up. They chose another way between violence and surrender. The residents of the village of Budrus, west of Ramallah and close to the Green Line, chose to wage a nonviolent struggle against the separation fence that is being built on its land. The whole village has pitched in – the Hamas and Fatah members, the old and the young, men and women, and for three months they have been going down by the hundreds to their olive groves every week, to demonstrate against the uprooting of their trees and the encircling of the residents.

The IDF and the Border Police have been faced with an unfamiliar phenomenon: What are they supposed to do about hundreds of unarmed, nonviolent residents slowly descending toward the bulldozers, with women and children leading the pack, and a handful of Israeli and international volunteers sprinkled among them, approaching to within touching distance of the armed soldiers? Should they shoot to kill? Shoot to injure?

So far, the IDF has fired, but less – no one has been killed, and about 100 people have been injured, most of them lightly, in the course of about 25 demonstrations over a two-month period. Most of the injuries were from batons and rubber bullets, like in the old days. Twelve villagers have been arrested, and nine of them are still in jail, for participating in clearly nonviolent demonstrations. This, too, is a violation of the IDF’s rules, as one military judge noted when he refused to send one of the leaders of this pacifist revolt to administrative detention. The arrested man’s brother, however, was sent straight to administrative detention by another military judge. But the most important point is that the construction work on the fence near the village has been stopped, for now.

Budrus against the occupation. Budrus against the separation fence, which will encircle the village on all sides and cut it off, like eight other villages slated to be enclosed in fenced-in enclaves opposite Ben-Gurion Airport. The fence could have been built along the Green Line, several hundred meters from the present route, but Israel had other ideas – about the vineyards, about the olives, about life. Today, or tomorrow, the quarrying and paving work will resume, and so will the protest demonstrations.

Will this remote village become a milestone in the struggle over the fence? Will the residents of Budrus herald a change to nonviolence in the Palestinian struggle against the occupation? Or, in a week or two, will the separation fence cut off life in this village, too, and show that nonviolence doesn’t pay, with the scene in Budrus soon becoming a forgotten episode?

Cacti wherever you look. Old stone houses standing alongside half-built ones that will never be completed. Things look promising as you enter the village, but the further inside you go, the more the reality hits you. After the last house, from within the olive groves, is the sight that is frightening the residents: the rising orange of the bulldozers, blotches of color in the wadi cutting into the rock, digging up and scarring, and after them the steamrollers and the heavy trucks. Olive trees whose tops have been cut off stand in mute testimony to the work of the bulldozers so far.

This is where the fence will pass. Through these olive groves. One fence to the west of them and another to the east of them, leaving them stuck, imprisoned in the middle. Why? Because.

“If the fence were on the mountain, it would give more security,” ventures Iyad Ahmed Murar, a leader of the protest in Budrus, whose two brothers are in administrative detention. “But they want a fence in the wadi. Common sense says that if you want a security fence, put it on the mountain and not in the wadi. But they want to destroy the land and the olives. What difference would it make if they moved 200 meters toward the Green Line?”

Before 1948, Budrus had approximately 25,000 dunams. Of that, 20,000 went to Israel and the village was left with about 5,000. Now, according to Murar’s calculations, about another 1,000 dunams will be stolen. The construction work near the groves has stopped for now, but is continuing not far away, toward the neighboring village of Qibiya. But it’s not just the fate of the land that is worrying the village, which hasn’t had a resident killed since 1993. What’s more worrisome is how the fence will effectively choke off the village.

Murar: “The fence will be around nine villages. Ramallah is our mother and only one gate will lead to it. And what if the soldier is on a coffee break? Or off smoking a cigarette? Maybe he’ll lock the gate so he can go to the bathroom. Maybe there will be a problem in Tel Aviv and they’ll close the gate. And then you won’t be able to get to the university, to the hospital or to work, and in the end, people will start to live where they work. If someone gives me a job, and I come one day and not the next, in the end he’ll tell me to stay there where the job is or be fired. People will start thinking about having to stay where their job is. And the student and the sick person will start thinking the same way.”

This is what the village is the most afraid of – a “willing” transfer; of life being made so difficult that they’ll be compelled to move east. A 1,000-year-old village. That’s why the fence is here. In Budrus, they’re convinced that Prime Minister Sharon is continuing what Captain Sharon began: In Qibiya, he tried it with dynamite, now he’s trying it with a fence. The objective is the same: to move them away from the Green Line, especially in the vicinity of Ben-Gurion airport. What can they do? “Demonstrate in a peaceful manner,” says Murar the rebel.

It all began on November 9, when construction work first started here. Since then, they’ve been demonstrating and demonstrating, always in a peaceful manner. Sometimes once a week, sometimes every day; sometimes the entire village; sometimes only the women and children. They walk down through the groves toward the route of the fence and get as close as possible to the soldiers and Border Police officers. Murar likes to describe the little rebellion, stage after stage, almost hour after hour. How they once stood there for a whole day, how they brought lunch and ate in front of the soldiers, how they were beaten with batons and rifle butts.

He records every detail: During one demonstration in December, he counted 15 humvees, six Border Police jeeps, two blue police jeeps and another two military jeeps inside the village, 25 jeeps altogether. At another demonstration, the officer declared the area a closed military zone.

Murar: “They had a letter in Hebrew – maybe about this area, maybe about the whole village, maybe about the whole world, declaring a closed military zone. They said they’d impose a curfew if we did anything.” He also talks about how they managed to go out to the land despite the curfew and to demonstrate in front of the bulldozers.

We decide to go down now toward the route that has already been paved. Murar remains behind. “If there are too many of us, they’ll think it’s a demonstration.” The last demonstration was last Friday; tear gas canisters are still scattered about. The residents know the work is going to resume soon. Maybe today, maybe tomorrow. Here are the red markings on the ground. They have scouts on the balconies of the outer houses of the village, who will report if they see something. The treadmarks left by the bulldozers are still visible in the mud. From here, the route is supposed to ascend toward the olive groves, another four kilometers. The first trees have already been uprooted. Yesterday was Tu Bishvat (Jewish arbor day).

A group of volunteers from the International Solidarity Movement, along with two young Israelis, accompany us through the olive groves, but they do not go down toward the fence route. They are staying in the village now, preparing for what is to come. Today they’re here, tomorrow they’ll be in the next village that the fence is approaching. Young dreamers and fighters who pay 20 shekels a night to stay in a rented apartment in the village. Yonatan Pollak of Anarchists Against the Fence, a 21-year-old with blue eyes, dimples, acne scars, a worldview and a past: Europe is already closed to him because of anti-globalization demonstrations he participated in there. He pulls a black sleeve over the tattoos on his arm. He won’t buy an Israeli soda in the village grocery store. While his contemporaries are standing at checkpoints and deciding which woman in labor to let pass and which not, he is here, with the Budrus residents, in their struggle.

We return to the village. The Amhassein family’s two-story house: the family on the first floor, the chickens on the second. The mother, Suriya, just returned from Mecca and the house has been decorated in her honor. The children play loudly at recess at the school at the edge of the village. The fence will pass right behind the border of the school and the border of the nearby cemetery. Mighty Israel is spread out all around: Modi’in, Ramle, Shoham, Rosh Ha’ayin – and on a clear day, you can even make out the Shalom Tower in Tel Aviv. And on the other side, to the east, Kiryat Sefer, Nili, Na’aleh. “Tell me, could the fence go into the cemetery?,” Murar asks.

A meeting at his home: About 20 women sit in the yard of the attractive house on the edge of the green valley and plan the exhibition they want to stage here on the 23rd of the month, the first day of hearings on the fence in the International Court in The Hague. Half the women came from Salfit and half are from the village. They sit in the shade of the banana tree in Murar’s yard and talk about the exhibit of olivewood products they will present in a tent in the center of the village. Maybe people from all over the world will come to see. A Swedish member of parliament was already arrested here by the IDF. Murar says that the exhibition will include a dove carved out of olivewood. They’re also planning a demonstration of children
soon.

Murar: “We’ve learned lessons – where we did good and where we did bad. They [the Israelis] have also learned lessons. Maybe they’ll strengthen the curfew more when they’re working. But our plan is to defend our land and our trees in a peaceful manner. Sometimes among our people there are a lot of ideas about what to do against the occupation. We here have chosen a different strategy. Our strategy in this small village is that we’re turning things over. In the north, from Jenin until Budrus, there were Israeli and international demonstrators, supported by Palestinians. But here, we think that it’s our problem and that we have to defend our land and do something, and the Israelis and international protesters are only supporting us. First the Palestinians, and then the internationals. We are very grateful for Israeli and international support, but the Palestinians have to make a stand. We’re adopting a special strategy, a peaceful strategy. The Hamas here, too. In the beginning, they walked with their green flags in the demonstrations. After the first three demonstrations, we only carry the flag of Palestine. Everyone together. In a totally peaceful way. We also all agreed on one thing: We are not against the Israelis and not against the Jews and not against the soldiers. We are only against the occupation. We are against the bulldozers. And we in Budrus believe that killing is easier than crying. But just crying over the land isn’t enough. A peaceful demonstration is stronger than killing. If you stand before the Israeli soldier, right beside him, you’ll be stronger.

If someone asks: Why peaceful? I tell him: I’ve tried all the ways and the peaceful way works best. The worst thing is to kill the innocent. That’s the worst thing in the world. They kill day and night and say that we are terrorists. But we need all the world to be on our side. I’m against killing people. All people, Jews and Arabs. I’m not afraid or ashamed to say that. That’s why I’m demonstrating peacefully against the fence.”

The Village Against the Fence

By Amira Hass
http://www.haaretz.com/hasen/spages/392934.html

A serious-looking black dog, whose eyes looked almost hollow, freely crossed the naked strip of land west of the villages of Qibiya and Budrus, which stretches from the village of Rantis, about five kilometers to the north.

A young resident of Qibiya guiding the visitors among the olive groves and fruit orchards of his village, up to the route of the fence, hastened to cross the ditch that has already been dug on both sides of the route, and to disappear among the trees. It was soon clear why – an Israeli security vehicle was approaching from the north toward those walking on the exposed strip, as soon as it detected them.

The vehicle stopped and two men got out. One, the shorter and older, carrying a rifle, was from Kfar Yonah; the second was from a Bedouin community in the Galilee. The one with the rifle angrily demanded that the visitors who came on foot leave immediately, or he would call the police so they would explain, if you insist, that this is a closed military area, even if he had no papers to prove it. His friend, who served in the army for seven years and was discharged half a year ago, calmed things down before they heated up.

The one with the rifle asserted that the presence of cameras encourages people to come and demonstrate, and that’s how the waves of riots begin. “Isn’t it you, by your work, who are causing the waves of rioting?” he asked, and the question wasn’t quite understood. What are you talking about, we are doing our work, explained the younger man. And of course I support the fence, so I won’t explode with my family in a restaurant.

The “riots” the two were talking about are a series of demonstrations against the fence that have been held by the residents of Budrus for about a month. “We decided that unlike other places until now, where international peace activists conducted the battle against the fence and the Palestinians supported them, we, the residents of Budrus, would wage our own battle.”

Those are the words of Ayad Murar, 42, a veteran Fatah activist, who with his brother Naim was among the founders of the popular committee in the village “for the struggle against the apartheid wall.” The popular committee, he says, emphasized to the people that the battle against the bulldozers and the many soldiers and police who protect them must be conducted without violence.

Curfew and arrests

All residents answered the call to demonstrate – young and old, men and women. What began as a strike along the route of the fence reached a climax on December 30. Somebody saw a bulldozer approaching the olive grove. The speaker in the mosque quickly announced it, and everyone who was in the village ran westward, toward the grove.

School children ran out of the classrooms, books in hand. Tear gas, rubber bullets and blows did not stop the villagers, who dispersed and returned to stand or to sit in front of the soldiers and the police, on the ground. Eyewitnesses say that the female students sat in front of the many soldiers, who retreated to their jeeps. The appearance of several television cameras helped.

During the following days, the Israel Defense Forces imposed a curfew on the village in order to prevent the residents from going out to demonstrate. Mainly young men violated the curfew and walked to the olive grove, to prevent the bulldozers from doing their work. Up to this week, the bulldozers have not returned to work – after they already uprooted about 60 olive trees. The people of Budrus attribute this to their stubbornness and determination.

A few days after this demonstration, the IDF arrested Naim Murar. He was released on January 11, but didn’t manage to be home for more than three days when the army came again to arrest him and his brother Ayad. The military prosecutor demanded that they be placed under administrative detention.

In the military court at the Ofer army base, the judge, Major Adrian Agassi, decided to release Ayad. “I found it proper to intervene in the decision of the military commander,” ruled Agassi in his decision. “After all, we cannot allow the military commander to use his authority to order the administrative detention of a person only because of this activity [against the fence]. In my opinion, this is a mistaken decision that did not stem from clear security considerations.”

But the judge decided to approve the decision of the military commander to place Naim Murar under administrative detention. As is customary in administrative detention, only the judge was allowed to peruse the classified documents given to him by members of the Shin Bet security services, and according to these documents, “the intelligence material attributes to him activity in support of terror, in the context of the Tanzim organization.”

But in Budrus people are convinced that the second detention of Naim Murar – like that of eight other activists against the fence – is an attempt to dismantle the opposition in the village. From Budrus’ threatened olive grove sounds of firing can be heard – sounds of training exercises. They come from the Adam military base, which is a few dozen meters to the west, 20-30 meters west of the Green Line.

In Budrus they believe that because of this army base, which is a few dozen meters from the Green Line, the route of the fence was pushed straight into the beautiful olive grove that they have been nurturing for decades. Budrus lost most of its lands in 1948 – many thousands of dunams, some count up to 20,000, remained on the western side of the Green Line.

Some land remained in the demilitarized zone, which both Israeli and Jordanian forces were forbidden to enter. Since 1967, say the villagers, the demilitarized zone has become Israeli, and they weren’t allowed to return to work their land there as well.

The route that is planned according to the map of the Israeli security services looks as though it is right on the Green Line. But in reality, all the difference lies in several dozen meters east of the Green Line. Now, of the 5,000 dunams that remain to the approximately 1,400 residents of Budrus, they estimate that they will lose about one fifth.

Some of this land is being confiscated for the fence itself, part of the area of the village will remain behind the fence – between the fence and the Green Line. The villagers estimate that 3,000 olive trees, which cover an area of about 5,000 dunams, will be lost under the teeth of the bulldozers or will be trapped in areas where entry is forbidden.

They figure that the “fence” – namely, two ditches that will be dug on both sides of it, and the two barbed wire fences, and the electronic fence with the sensors, and the patrol roads between them, and the watchtowers – will almost touch some of the most western houses in the village, including the school.

Imprisoned enclave

The occupation and preparation of the land here, west of Kibiya and Budrus, are being carried out in the context of the second stage of the building of the security fence. According to the plan, and as long as it has not been decided or proved otherwise, in the context of this stage two Palestinian enclaves will be created west of Ramallah.

These are two out of 81 Palestinian enclaves that have been created and will be created all along the fence, which are discussed in the report by B’Tselem. Some will be between the fence and the Green Line, some in small “loops” created by the fence, and some will be the result of “secondary obstacles,” as the army puts it.

Budrus is one of the nine Palestinian villages that will find themselves in an enclave with an area of 53.2 square kilometers. These villages include Luban al Gharabiyeh, Rantis, Shuqba, Qibiya, Shabtin, Budrus, Midya, Na’lin and Dir Kadis. The village of Midiya will be surrounded on all sides by the separation fence, as in a loop.

According to the map of the Israeli security services, one could have concluded immediately that an enclave would be created here. The routes of the western and eastern fences are the same color, as though there is no difference between them.

Military spokesman did in fact explain to members of the support unit of the Palestinian negotiating division that the eastern fence would not be similar to the western one, and would apparently be composed of what is called a “secondary obstacle” (a system of ditches and barbed wire fences) and an eastern gate on the roads to Ramallah and the villages surrounding it – which would be locked and blocked off only in case of security alerts. But in any case, this promise does not reassure the village residents, who know that they are losing thousands of dunams of their land.

In the past three years they have already had a taste of checkpoints that prevented their access to the neighboring villages or to the district center, Ramallah. And even if the gate or the gates in the eastern, “secondary” fence are open most of the time – in Rantis, Budrus and the other villages they point to the maps and to the new political geography that is being created before their eyes.

The two small Palestinian enclaves that are being created west of Ramallah leave two large settlement blocs outside of them, which cut deep into the Palestinian territory and are joined within Israel itself, until one can no longer see that there was a Green Line.

“That’s why we are fighting against this fence,” says Ayad Murar from his home, talking about this new geography. “It is part of our struggle for a peaceful solution to the conflict – the establishment of a Palestinian state alongside Israel.”

Between November and December 2003, military orders began to be posted in the Rantis, Budrus and other villages, regarding the “temporary” seizure of land (until December 2005) for military purposes. According to these orders, which are signed by the chief of Central Command Major General Moshe Kaplinsky, the width of the strips of land confiscated from the villages will range from 68 to 490 meters. The entire length of the (primary and secondary) fence that will surround the nine villages in the enclave – 32.2 kilometers.

Meanwhile, some of the residents of Budrus continue to sneak into Israel on foot, to make a living, mainly in construction. Others, who have lost their jobs in Israel in recent years, have found various jobs in the Ramallah area. But if they are closed within an enclave, they are liable to lose these places of work. Palestinian employers cannot withstand the frequent incidents of lateness caused by the blocks and the checkpoints.

“Come to live in Ramallah, or leave the job,” they are told. Grocery store owners are feeling the difference. People come in infrequently, buy on credit, they buy only what is essential. It’s hard to imagine what else will happen when the large olive grove is crushed beneath the teeth of the bulldozers or is swallowed up on the other side of the fence, and when it won’t be possible to work in Israel at all any longer.

Guardian Obituary: Tom Hurndall

An aspiring photojournalist and committed peace activist
By Carl Arrindell
Originally published in The Guardian

In the spring of 2002, Tom Hurndall made a journey around Europe, which then took him on to Egypt and Jordan. He was young, a soon-to-be student, interested in philosophy – and most interested in the contrast between cultures. It was a formative experience. Indeed, an abiding image for his friends is of Tom, who has died aged 22, on his motorcycle, cigarette in hand, riding into the Egyptian desert.

Back in England, he was accepted by Manchester Metropolitan University to study criminology and philosophy. But his passion and natural gifts were for photography and writing, which he saw as ways of highlighting what was important in life. So he switched to a degree in photographic journalism.

A year ago, he photographed the million-strong London anti-Iraq war demonstration. During it, he encountered the group planning to provide human shields in Iraq against the threat of attack by Anglo-American forces.

By February 2003, he was in Iraq, having told his Manchester faculty head that he would still make his course deadlines. He was, after all, amassing a photographic record, and writing journals. But rather than sending the volunteers to hospitals and schools, Saddam regime officials detailed them to power stations and strategic targets.

Tom headed for Jordan. There he offered his remaining £500 to provide medical supplies for Jordanian Iraqi refugee camps, helped courier supplies and worked on building temporary shelters. In Jordan, he encountered the International Solidarity Movement (ISM), whose volunteers – committed to non-violence – were working with Palestinians as they faced the Israeli Defence Force (IDF) in the West Bank and Gaza Strip. By foot, taxi and bus, Tom set off for Gaza, with the aim of recording what he saw.

He arrived in the town of Rafah on April 6 2003 and began emailing images of the IDF and the Palestinians back to his family. The tone of his journals changed dramatically. “No one could say I wasn’t seeing what needs to be seen now,” he wrote.

The practice of ISM members in Rafah was, while waving their passports, to accompany Palestinians as they attempted to restore water supplies, and telecommunications shot up by the IDF, and to prevent the demolition of houses. On April 11 2003 Tom, dressed in a fluorescent orange ISM vest, was at the end of a Rafah street observing an earthen mound where a score of children were playing. As IDF rifle fire hit the mound, the children fled. But three, aged between four and seven, were paralysed by fear.

Tom, having taken a boy to safety, returned for the girls. He was hit in the head by a single bullet, fired by an IDF soldier. After a two-hour delay on the border, Tom was taken to a specialist hospital in Be’ersheva, and then back to London, where he survived, in a vegetative state, until his death.

Tom was the second of four children born in Camden in north London, the son of a property lawyer and the head of a school learning support unit. He was educated at the Hall School in Hampstead, Highfield in Hampshire and at Winchester College before, back in London, joining Camden School for Girls mixed sixth form. Various jobs followed before that first trip to the Middle East and subsequent student enrolment in Manchester.

The initial IDF field report, which went to the British Embassy in Tel Aviv and to Tom’s family, exonerated the soldier who had killed him. He claimed that Tom was in camouflage, and wielding a gun. In the face of a clutch of witness statements, such suggestions were withdrawn. Just before Tom’s death, the soldier, a Bedouin Arab of the IDF, was indicted on six charges, of which the most serious was aggravated assault, implying no intention to kill. Since Tom was shot by a rifle with an advanced telescopic lens, his parents are demanding that the charge be murder, but they are also demanding the eradication of the “culture of impunity” with which the IDF operates in the occupied territories of Palestine.

According to B’Tselem, the Israeli Information Centre for Human Rights in the Occupied Territories, between September 29 2000 and December 18 2003 some 377 Israeli civilians and 80 security forces members were killed in Israel. Some 196 Israeli civilians and 180 IDF members were killed in the occupied territories.

In that period, 2,289 Palestinians were killed in the occupied territories, with many tens of thousands injured, most of whom have been civilians. From the end of 2002 to the spring of 2003, four “internationals” were killed in the occupied territories of whom three, including Tom, were British citizens. There have only been a handful of IDF investigations and just two convictions, with lenient sentences. Tom’s case is a landmark. For B’Tselem’s director Jessica Montell, it “has made a real contribution to the cause of greater military accountability”.

Tom, blind to nationalities and borders, exuded humanity. He wanted, he wrote in his journal, “to make a difference”. He did. He also had an outrageous sense of humour and will be missed, most of all, because he made those of us who were his friends smile. He is survived by his parents, sister Sophie, and his brothers Billy and Freddy.

Thomas Peter Hurndall, student, born November 27 1981; died January 13 2004

Tom Hurndall was a young man with a dream…he paid for it with his life

A young British photographer shot by an Israeli soldier on the Gaza strip has died after nine months in a coma. Sally Pook and Nicola Woolcock report.
Originally published by The Telegraph.

Tom Hurndall left England with a dream to document the lives of people living under conflict. A first year photography student at Manchester Metropolitan University, he hoped to emulate his hero, the renowned war photographer Don McCullin.

He travelled first to Iraq, before moving to Jordan and then on to Israel. It was a trip he had saved for and planned for some time, a trip that would form part of his degree course and one he knew would prove deeply challenging.

The son of middle-class parents from north London, Mr Hurndall was politically aware and passionate about human rights. He took part in anti-war demonstrations in London before leaving for Iraq.

His sense of adventure, together with his love of photography, propelled him to document the lives of ordinary people in areas of conflict in the Middle East.

His mother, Jocelyn, a teacher, described him as highly intelligent, articulate and inquisitive, a young man with an adventurous spirit who continually asked questions. It was typical of her son, she said, to put another’s safety before his own.

“It used to worry me that his feelings for others would override any care for his own safety,” she wrote before he died.

Mr Hurndall’s journey began in February last year, when the 21-year-old travelled to Baghdad with a group who would act as human shields. It was his passport into the country. “I want to put a real face on the situation,” he told reporters at Heathrow.

“He saw that war with Iraq was looming and saw it as his chance to do what he wanted to do,” his sister, Sophie, said yesterday.

“The college tried to stop him. While he was there he had an e-mail from his tutor trying to pressure him to come home. But he had absolutely decided what he was going to do.”

He quickly became disenchanted with Iraq when he was denied access to the places and people he wanted to see.

“He disagreed sometimes with what was going on. He went out there as an observer. But they wanted him to stand in front of buildings such as factories. Tom said he would protect schools and hospitals but that was it,” said Miss Hurndall. “So they asked him to leave.”

Mr Hurndall left for Jordan, where he spent time in refugee camps taking photographs, building tents and buying supplies.

Once again, he became frustrated, feeling he was not making enough of a difference, and tried to return to Iraq. It proved too difficult and too expensive from Jordan. So he chose Israel.

Although he has been labelled a peace activist, his family insist he was primarily acting as an amateur photo-journalist in Israel. According to his family, he wanted to cut through the propaganda.

“He wanted to find out for himself what was going on, cover these stories and bring the truth back to Britain,” said his sister.

He chose to gain access to the refugee camps by joining the International Solidarity Movement (ISM), which required him to undertake a short training course before he travelled to Gaza.

His decision to sign up with the ISM was initially a way of getting into the refugee camps; but he also joined because he wanted to cover the story of the death of Rachel Corrie, the 23-year-old American member of the movement who was crushed to death by an Israeli armoured bulldozer weeks before Mr Hurndall was shot.

“He also wanted to work alongside them. He believed in their cause,” said Miss Hurndall.

“Three days before he was shot he saw a child shot in front of him. That is why he acted when he saw children being shot at and tried to protect them, he knew there was a chance they could be killed.”

During his five days in Gaza, Mr Hurndall photographed children and ISM activists opposing Israeli bulldozers. Other photographs show children playing in the ruins of bombed homes in Rafah, members of Hamas and Islamic Jihad, a family living in a house directly in front of an Israeli tower.

In photographs taken of him at the time, he appears fresh-faced and enthusiastic. On the morning of April 11, the day he was fatally wounded, he e-mailed one of his professors to tell her how excited he was about the pictures he was compiling. He said he would be back in England soon.

That afternoon, he travelled to Rafah, carrying his camera and wearing an orange day-glo jacket.

It was broad daylight still, at around 5pm, when he was shot in the head as he tried to shepherd two young girls to safety. Witnesses said a group of Palestinian children had been trapped under fire in the Yibna area of Rafah.

Mr Hurndall twice crossed the line of fire. He managed to get one child, a boy named Salem Baroum, to safety but as he went back for the two girls he was shot in the head.

According to witnesses at the scene, there were no Palestinian gunmen in the area.

At the European hospital near Rafah, a brain scan found that the bullet had left hundreds of particles of shrapnel in his head. Mr Hurndall never regained consciousness.

His family travelled to Gaza to begin their own investigation into the shooting. They believe he was targeted by the Israeli Defence Force as part of a strategy of suppressing foreign witnesses in the occupied territories.

“The soldier had a telescopic lens and we have been told by a military expert that he could have taken the buttons off Tom’s coat,” said Sophie.

In May, his family managed to get Mr Hurndall flown back to England where he remained in a deep coma at the Royal Hospital for Neuro-disability in Putney, south-west London.

He died on Tuesday night, aged 22, after contracting pneumonia, just as his mother had left his bedside to buy some coffee.

“The doctors said on Monday that he had less than a week left to live,” said his sister.

“My father and brothers, Frankie and Billy, stayed with him on Monday then my mother took over for a shift early on Tuesday. She had been with him all day, and just went to get a coffee. The doctors rang her on her mobile to say what had happened.”

In his diary, Mr Hurndall appeared to have anticipated his fate, writing that he would not wish to survive if he was severely injured.

Letter from Balata

by an International Women’s Peace Service volunteer

Today is the day after the international day of action against the Apartheid Wall. In Jenin 35 internationals and 25 Israeli anarchists backed by dozens of locals cut down a 12 metre hole in the fence there, while the army watched in amazement.

I wish I could say that that good news is the defining event right now, but no. In Nablus and Balata camp three Palestinians have died in the last couple of days including a father of five who was doing nothing against Israel or Israelis. Last week at 38 year-old woman was shot while exiting her house in the middle of the night in the Old City; she was cooperating with Israeli orders to evacuate the street. Another man died in the hospital after being shot in the leg a few days ago.

Last night the army appeared, searched two houses in Balata, and arrested nine people in the middle of the night. In each case the guy they were looking for was not there, and in one case I was told by the family has not been for six months. The army shot up every room in the house for good measure after putting the family outside from 2:30am in the rain and cold for three hours.

M-16 were shells visible all over and holes in closets and walls.

They also poured cooking oil all over the floor of the kitchen and actually shot a hole in the main gas supply risking burning the whole house down. And the obligatory wrecking of the water resevoirs on the roof.

In another Balata house the son sought wasn’t there so soldiers contented themselves with shooting a 17-year old brother in the stomach and then arrested him and threatened to return and blow up the house if the family don’t produce the suspect by tonight, a standard empty threat.

Much of this is in response to a suicide bomber being from a nearby neighbourhood in the city proper called Rafidia.

This morning i was just getting a cup of tea to my lips when it was time to move. Jeeps all over the entrances to the camp, greeted by the shebab, the street kids with rocks. The main throughway had couple of jeeps at either end and we split the team into two groups. In the main intersection internationals began inserting themselves between the jeeps and the rockthrowers, as per usual. Soon we were joined by a massive tank that four of us made a sad attempt to blockade on the road; it was ignored and Joey was the last to jump out of the way plus 12 inches from a tread.

That was seen to be a new level of aggression hitherto unseen here. Also new was the firing of a large ballistic projectile filled with rubber bullets. Mika got hit by one of them in the elbow stepping into a soldier’s line of fire. Not hurt. 73 year old Welshman Ray, on his seventh time here, took flak from live ammo fired at point-blank into the ground. This guy is calm as Buddha. A cut shin, no worse for him.

Likewise for Kelly, who marched at one point right up to between a jeep and a tank in the middle of the large intersection and had a soldier firing his rifle right past her head while she stood her ground and argued with them. Later one of the same riflemen was playing chicken and laughing while pointing his barrel at us both when he could risk opening his door to fire our way. At that point our way included half-a-dozen kids who’d been bringing it all morning from a storefront, one of them with a slingshot. Two of the younger kids made a point of standing right behind me.

Also unprecedented was the accidental appearance of a UN delegation that was simply here to see a school or some such thing. Ray and my Swedish buddy seized the opportunity to talk to them. Apparently they were Canadian parliamentarians and were quite interested, totally supportive, and got the fuck out of there right quick, hustled away by their handlers. But they got a photo or two first before they left.

The shebab were chucking lime-based paint in bottles as well today and my Swedish buddy came away looking like a milk bar-fight casualty, as did the tank and a jeep. One kid nailed a jeep side-mirror, which is always extra points as it restricts the drivers’ surveillance capacity. The whole three hour engagement left me with a distinct feeling of over-exposure, not least of which a result of taking a sound bomb at five metres. A bloody nasty interruption second thing in the morning.

The reality of living in a prolonged zone of conflict has made these refugees into some very tough people, and its beyond me to understand their tenacity. I think its beyond the Israelis as well who’ve no other response but endless rounds of collective punishment.