02nd January 2014 | International Solidarity Movement, Nablus Team | Kafr Qaddum, Occupied Palestine
Yesterday, Wednesday 1st January, Israeli forces raided the village of Kafr Qaddum during an anniversary march to commemorate the start of the Fatah movement, 49 years ago. Israeli soldiers and border police shot many tear gas canisters towards the villagers and into several houses.
One tear gas canister landed directly in the house of 85-year-old Saeed Ali Gasser. He was taken directly to the Nablus Speciality Hospital, where he suffocated as a result of gas inhalation. He died at 11 pm.
The funeral will be held this afternoon in the village of KAfr Qaddum.
In recent weeks there has been a steady escalation of night raids, increasingly violent repression of Friday demonstrations, flying checkpoints and seemingly arbitrary arrests. In the past month alone there have been more than twenty night raids on houses in the village.
30th December 2013 | Operation Dove | At Tuwani, Occupied Palestine
On December 28, a group of settlers attacked Palestinians who were plowing a field in the South Hebron Hills village of At Tuwani. Hafez Huraini, a member of the South Hebron Hills Popular Committee (SHHPC), was injured in the attack.
According to Huraini, at about 2.45 p.m. five settlers, of whom four were children and one an adult, came out from the illegal outpost of Havat Ma’on (Hill 833) and attacked four Palestinians who were working their field, which borders the illegal outpost. The adult settler approached Huraini and hit his head with a stone.
Numerous At Tuwani residents subsequently gathered in the field, thus scaring the settlers’ away. However, the settlers continued to throw stones from the Havat Ma’on woods for an additional fifteen minutes, after which they left.
Huraini immediately called the Israeli police to register a complaint about the attack, but the police did not arrive immediately. The injured thus went to the hospital in the nearby town of Yatta to be treated. The Israeli police arrived only at 4.15 p.m., while Huraini was still in the hospital. The police stayed close to the outpost without speaking to the Palestinians. District Coordination Office (DCO) officers also arrived on the scene and spoke with the police, before leaving at around 4.30 p.m. After an additional ten minutes the police also left without waiting for Huraini. Later that night Huraini went to the Kiryat Arba police station to file a complaint against the attacker.
The village of At-Tuwani is situated in the South Hebron Hills, defined as area C. According to the Oslo accords, area C is part of West Bank under full Israeli civil and security control. As like many of the Palestinian villages located in area C, At Tuwani suffers from settler and military intimidation and violence. As a result, At Tuwani residents encounter great difficulties in accessing their own lands for their everyday farming activities.
But, as Huraini said: “This is resistance: to go daily to your land. We are protesting every day, every night.”
Operation Dove has maintained an international presence in At-Tuwani and South Hebron Hills since 2004.
[Note: According to the Fourth Geneva Convention, the Hague Regulations, the International Court of Justice, and several United Nations resolutions, all Israeli settlements and outposts in the Occupied Palestinian Territories are illegal. Most settlement outposts, including Havat Ma’on (Hill 833), are considered illegal also under Israeli law.]
29th December 2013 | International Solidarity Movement, Ramallah Team | Nabi Saleh, Occupied Palestine
On Friday 27th December, during the weekly demonstration in Nabi Saleh, Israeli forces raided the town with a “skunk” (chemical) truck, fired large amounts of tear gas canisters and shot rubbed-coated steel bullets at unarmed protesters. Five people were injured by rubber-coated steel bullets and one woman was shot at extremely close range.
Shortly after the demonstration began, Palestinian and international activists attempt to march towards the local spring which has been stolen by a nearby illegal settlement. Israeli forces responded by firing stun grenades, tear gas canisters, skunk water and rubber-coated steel bullets at the protesters. They then proceeded to raid the village, spraying houses and cars with skunk water. In one Palestinian home, part of their garden caught on fire when a tear gas canister was shot in their fruit trees. Many protesters were forced to seek shelter in houses while Israeli border police entered the village shooting rubber-coated steel bullets at those left on the streets. One protester, Manal Tamini, was shot by four rubber-coated steel bullets in both of her legs
The village of Nabi Saleh has demonstrated against the theft of their natural spring by the nearby Halamish settlement and the occupation in general since December 2009. Israeli forces violently suppress the weekly Friday protests by shooting tear gas canisters, skunk water, sound bombs, rubber-coated steel bullets and even live ammunition at protesters. Two people have been killed, Mustafa and Rushdi Tamimi, and many others severely injured.
It was five years ago that Cast Lead began. Now a book of short stories, Gaza Writes Back, marks the anniversary. The book’s editor, Refaat Alareer, answers questions about the collection:
ArabLit: How did the idea for this collection come about? How did you put out the call for submissions? Did you tell the writers it was to commemorate Cast Lead?
Refaat Alareer: I’ve been teaching World Literature and Creative Writing at the Islamic University-Gaza (IUG), and at other Gaza training centres, ever since I finished my MA in Comparative Literature from UCL, UK in 2007. And I always had the idea of collecting the best pieces written by my students in a book. Going global became a necessity after the hateful Israeli Offensive of 2008-09. I met Helena Cobban in Gaza and threw the idea of a book of young talents into her lap, and later, thanks to Annie Robbins of Mondoweiss.net, Helena saw the potential in the project. In October 2012, Helena and I discussed a number of possible book projects and later decided a book of short fiction is the best place to start.
Since many of the writers are my own students (and friends), I contacted them and informed them of the idea of a book to mark the fifth anniversary of Cast Lead. We had a couple of fruitful workshops, and I took many of their suggestions into consideration. Later, I announced the project through Facebook, Twitter, local universities in Gaza, and personal contacts.
You should know that maybe only four stories were written in order to be submitted to the book. Many had already been written a year, two, or even three before I asked for submissions. But all pieces were written after the Cast Lead Operation.
I received tens of submissions (around 70!), and with the help of Sarah Ali, Sameeha Elwan, and Diana Ghazzawi, we managed, with difficulty, to narrow them down to 23 stories by 15 writers. Choosing the 23 stories was one of the toughest things I have ever done, because there were many more stories with strong potential.
AL: You say, in the introduction, that you wanted this collection to be “without the mediation or influences of translation or of non-Palestinian voices.” Why without translation? Are there particular effects of translation (on literature) that you’ve seen that you were trying to avoid?
RA: As much as I believe in the importance of translation, when it comes to literature I strongly believe many things get lost in translation, no matter how accurate. Therefore, our efforts were directed at improving the English creative writing skills. So that the writers think in English and express themselves in English. Also, the book comes to encourage and give a nudge to those who write in English, as that will enable them to write more and be in touch and in dialogue with the whole world. Maybe in the future we can work on a book of stories originally written in Arabic.
AL: Why young writers?
RA: Because they have a lot to say. Because they are doing most of the work these days. Because they are leading all the campaigns to make the world aware of the ills and pains Israeli occupation is bringing on Palestinians. Because young people have their worldviews and visions that are worthy of being heard. Because there are many more young Palestinians who write in English than old ones. And because the young have largely been marginalised from mainstream discussions.
AL: It’s interesting that so many of the young writers are women. Do you think this is particular to those who write in English?
RA: This is particular to those who write in English and in Arabic as well. In Palestine, we have more women joining universities than men, more women journalists than men, more women activists than men. Women are in many ways taking the lead, in writing, in activism, and in struggle.
AL: You quoted Sameeha Elwan, in the introduction, in saying that the Internet has changed the storytelling process among Palestinians (who have been fragmented since ’48). Will this collection somehow make use of the Internet? Will any of the stories appear online?
RA: Much of the support for the young writers came through the internet. They first started by posting their creative pieces in forums, and personal blogs, and Facebook, and then Mondoweiss, the Electronic Intifada, the Palestine Chronicle and other websites. The encouragement the writers received from people in Palestine and all over the world was a catalyst for more writing. That means without the internet, many of the pieces could have been forgotten or not written in the first place. Social media platforms have been the major battlefields in the recent years. Facebook pages, YouTube Videos, and Twitterstorms have brought awareness about the Israeli occupation and human rights violation and about the suffering of Palestinians in Jerusalem, Gaza, areas occupied in 1948 and the West Bank. Currently, we are very much depending on social media to promote the book and raise awareness about Palestine.
I think with permission from the publisher, certain extracts from the stories can appear online (some already did).
But other than that, we hope that some of the pieces can be made into films or short videos.
AL: One of the PalFest authors, who has taught workshops in both Gaza (by video link) and the West Bank, has said that — because of life, and life-and-death issues — it’s generally been difficult for talented young authors to follow through on writing projects. Do you find that’s true of young authors in Gaza?
RA: To some extent, when it comes to online courses or tutoring, it’s true. Imagine yourself not having electricity for most of the day! However, in the many courses I held in Gaza, there were a lot who joined and benefited from the creative writing sessions such as short story writing, poetry writing, and general creative-writing skills.
Israel is making it very difficult for Palestinians to live a decent life. Israel has caused every possible hindrance to prevent Palestinians from being. Still, that very same thing was the very cause that led many to write back. For many of us, writing is an act of resistance, but it is also an act of life, meaning writing happens no matter who we are and where we are. We write, therefore we exist.
AL: Most of the selections are very short. Some of them are powerful snapshots — the pain and embarrassment in Sameeha Elwan’s “Toothache in Gaza” and Muhammad Suliman’s “Bundles” — but they’re more like “flash fiction” than short stories. Did you ask for very-short pieces, or is this how the writers turned in their work?
RA: When the book was announced, I asked for “short stories/short fiction stories.” No word limit was imposed. The micro-stories, in my opinion, suit the atmosphere they came to life in and reflect many aspects of Palestinian life. The stories, by zooming so closely into a very precise moment, show how brief life, hope, and dreams under occupation can be. Even the abruptness that characterises some of the pieces tells of a promising story suddenly coming to an end because the main character is killed. Because of Israel. Because there is occupation. It is true many of the stories begin in medias res, but at the end no resolution is made, as the suffering, the pain, and the deprivation continue to linger, haunting readers for a long time after reading the story. In other words, the story still ends in medias res.
Writing longer pieces is something I started working on with a couple of the writers. Although this might require a lot of time, effort, and training, some told me that the idea of writing longer stories, even novels, is lurking in their minds. Hopefully, the attention of this anthology will receive will encourage them to write more and write longer pieces.
AL: What comes after Gaza Writes Back?
RA: I am hoping the stories will get the attention of film producers. I know at least a couple of the stories can be made into great movies, or at least short movies.
Helena Cobban and I have several plans for other book projects to follow. The focus will also be to bring young voices to forefront. At the same time we will work on translating the book into Arabic, French, Spanish, Malay, among other languages.
28th December 2013 | International Solidarity Movement, Charlie Andreasson | Gaza, Occupied Palestine
(Photo by Charlie Andreasson)
December is the time for farmers in the Gaza Strip to sow. But for those with fields near the Israeli separation barrier, it is highly dangerous. Sure enough, we were met by news that an 18-year-old was shot an hour earlier when he was checking his bird nets here in Khuza’a in the southern part of the Gaza Strip. To sell small birds can earn a few bucks, but also makes the hunter the hunted. This one was lucky. For him, a day’s hospital visit was enough.
That our presence and our yellow vests are desirable cannot be mistaken. Without any directive, some of us get up on the tractors as protection for the drivers while the rest form a row between the field and the Israeli barrier. Here the open fields were once interspersed with olive and other fruit trees, trees devastated by Israeli bulldozers. Now they can only plant wheat, a crop that grows without daily care.
(Photo by Charlie Andreasson)
The fields to be plowed were not large, and after they been sowed, we came closer and closer to the fence. We saw the barbed wire rolled out in large circles before the fence, the towers with machine guns, the large mounds of dirt and tanks coming up behind them, the military Jeeps that stop for a moment before continuing. But we also saw the green fields behind all this, where irrigation is permitted. The contrast is great.
The work takes us closer and closer to the barrier. Activists with yellow vests still sit on tractors, but the rest of us are no longer in a row. We are now very close to the fence, so we walk directly beside those sowing by hand. It would look funny at any time, in any other part of the world, but here it is deadly serious. Maybe 70-80 meters from the fence, the ground is completely disturbed by bulldozers and tanks. Deep traces of crawlers are everywhere, some of them made earlier in the week, we are told. The tractors cannot plow there, and the farmers are not trying, either. And they can only hope that the Israeli soldiers will not tear up their fields and plow down the wheat before they reap. It has happened in the past and will most likely happen again.
(Photo by Charlie Andreasson)
Done for the day, we walk back. Not a a single bullet has been fired at us this time. But I find one in the ground, one that didn’t find its target, and show my Israeli souvenir for the others. But no one reacts significantly. Someone strikes out with his arm over the fields: there are plenty of different kinds of ammunition fired here.
I try to understand how the soldier who shot early that morning reasoned. What made him shoot? Did he feet that he did his duty, believe that he erased a potential threat to the state of Israel? Did he get a pat on the shoulder from his commander, or backslapping by his peers in the barracks? When he comes home, will his proud mother serve him his favorite dish, and will his father open the forbidden cabinet to invite his to taste something stronger now then he has become a man?
(Photo by Charlie Andreasson)
But above all, I wonder what makes them think that farmers who sow by hand are really a threat forcing the soldiers to shoot them. What makes them so afraid that they take shelter in bulletproof guard towers or tanks. How the State of Israel can be protected by bulldozing Palestinians’ fields and destroying their crops. And how to get an entire nation to believe that these farmers are a threat to their existence. I do not understand it. But I understand that our presence can mean the difference between life and death.
