Tag: Bethlehem

Merry Christmas from Gaza

by Shahd Abusalama

25 December 2011 | Palestine from My Eyes

When I was a very young girl, I used to climb the window and stretch my arm out, trying to collect some rain in my small hand, then sip it, believing that it was the purest ever. I remembered this as I was listening to the raindrops hitting my room’s windows, which I made sure were securely closed, to keep the cold wind from blowing inside and disturbing the warmth my body felt under my heavy blankets.

Meanwhile, I could hear mum talking quietly from the room just next door, but couldn’t recognize exactly what she was saying. She suddenly paused and called me to join her and seize the chance to pray, as in Islam it’s said that prayers are more likely to come true while rain is falling. I closed my eyes as tight as I could and listened to her sincere prayers for us to accomplish all that we dream, for all sick and injured people to recover soon, for all dead to reach heaven, and for Palestine, from the sea to the river, to be free. As I could only hear mum’s voice along with the raindrops, a harmonic atmosphere spread around me, and my lips moved in silence, “Amen”.

Being a Muslim, I never celebrated Christmas myself, but having lots of Christian friends inside and outside Palestine has connected me to this day. I’ve always shared it with them one way or another, since I believe that religion shouldn’t stand as a barrier between human beings. Religion is to call for love, compassion, and tolerance. It should unite people, not divide them. Sadly, not all that is said is done. Three years ago, people around the world welcomed Christmas and the New Year happily with lights, colorful balloons and fireworks while Gaza received it with white phosphorous lighting the dark sky and rivers of blood spilled by the Israeli Occupation Forces.

Even though I am Muslim, I’ve always appreciated the beauty of Christmas trees, lights, gatherings, meals and religious songs that I see Christians perform in the Christmas movies I watched. On this rainy and windy day, which I knew was Christmas, I wished that Gaza’s sky would snow so that it would be a typical Christmas day like movies made me picture. For an observer like me, snow adds a factor of beauty to Christmas celebrations, even though my Christians friends abroad would sometimes complain about it.  I don’t blame them, though, as I have never seen any snow and never experienced its negative side.

I spent this Christmas Eve with Lydia and Joe, two of our Christian friends who came to Gaza in solidarity with Palestine, and in support of Palestinian people who live under the Israeli Occupation. My family and I didn’t hesitate to bring Christmas gifts and share this special day with them, as a form of appreciation for their indescribable humanity as they chose to celebrate it in the besieged Gaza Strip rather than joining their families on such a holy occasion.

Approximately three thousand people among Gaza’s population are Christians. Recently, I made new friends among them, a Christian family that I met through a funny coincidence. A couple of months ago, I was walking with my Greek friend Mack, who came to Gaza as a solidarity activist, and we passed a dress shop named Kopella. The name attracted Mack’s eyes, as it happened to be a Greek word for a young lady. He dragged me inside the shop, which we learned was owned by a Christian family named Alsalfiti. He was very curious to know if they knew what the word means, and it turned that they have a daughter studying in Greece, who chose this name for their shop.

Around a week ago, I visited the Alsalfiti family with Joe and Lydia, who were interested to know how Christians in Gaza celebrate Christmas. The first thing my eyes glimpsed was a beautifully decorated plastic tree that was placed in the corner of their house to welcome Christmas. “I brought this from Bethlehem five years ago,” Lili, the mother, told me while pointing at the tree after she noticed my surprise.

“We used to get permits from the Israeli Occupation to Bethlehem every Christmas, to celebrate it in the Church of the Nativity with our relatives who live there,” Abu Wade’ the father, said.  “But that can no longer happen.  After Shalit was captured by the resistance, people from 16 to 35 weren’t allowed to go. So my kids haven’t been able to join us in Bethlehem for more than five years. Many people are denied permission for the reasons of security, but no one knows what the security reasons are. For example, my wife and I applied a little while ago. She got permission, but I didn’t.”

Lili interrupted with frustration, saying, “Only a range of three to five hundred Christians get permission.”

Abu Wade’ raised his voice: “Remember, no Muslim is allowed by the Israeli Occupation to pray in Al Aqsa, either on their religious holidays or any other days.”

While talking about Bethlehem, I recalled precious memories stuck in mind since I was nine years old, just before the Second Intifada started. Mum struggled to get permission from the Israeli Occupation to take me and my two elder siblings on a trip to the West Bank. She eventually did, and so we went. I recall the few hours I had inside the Church of the Nativity, and how strongly spiritual it felt to be where the Christ was born. I remember how my eyes were captured by the beauty of the place and its architecture that is enriched with history. Once I recalled these memories with mum, and she laughed at me, remembering how surprised I was to see people crying very hard. When I asked her about it innocently, she replied, “Christians cry while praying out of reverence, just like Muslims do.”

It is very painful to think of how close I am to the West Bank, but how far the Israeli Occupation makes it seem at the same time. If I were to ask Santa Claus for something that would come true, I would wish that I could step on every grain of sand in our historical Palestine, freely visit Jerusalem to pray in Al-Aqsa Mosque and enjoy the smell of its air and its charming, mountainous nature, and visit Bethlehem and the Church of the Nativity. There are many beautiful, breathtaking scenes that I would love to draw as I see them in reality. I have faith that I will someday, once Palestine is free.

“Only one half of me is free, but the other half is still there, locked up behind Israeli bars”

by Shahd Abusalama

13 November 2011  | Palestine from My Eyes

A beautiful halo around Gaza’s full moon

In a nice restaurant overlooking Gaza’s beach, beneath a full moon with a beautiful halo surrounding it, I sat with my new friends who recently were released from Israeli prisons. Their freedom was restricted by Israel’s inhumane rules, including indefinitely deportation from the West Bank, away from their families and friends. However, they all shared one thought: “The problem is not here.  Both the West Bank and Gaza are our homeland. The problem is that our freedom will not be complete until our land and people are totally free.”

I listened carefully to their prison stories and memories of their families in other parts of Palestine. One of the most interesting things for me to hear was the warm, strong, and caring friendships they remembered from inside the painful cells. These unbreakable friendships were their only distractions from the wounds that used to hurt them deeply inside.

One of my new friends is Chris Al-Bandak, the only Christian of the released detainees, who was freed in the first stage of the swap deal. After I was introduced to him, I congratulated him on regaining his freedom, and he faked his smile and replied, “Only one half of me is free, but the other half is still there, locked up behind Israeli bars.”

I didn’t know much about Chris, except for his religion, but many things about him made me want to get to know him more closely. I was quite certain that this impressive 32-year-old man had many interesting stories to tell and learn from.

Chris said that he was one of the people besieged by the Israeli Occupation Forces at the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem in 2002. That alone made me impatient to hear the rest of his story. “The siege lasted for 40 days. It got more unbearable as time passed, with the food and first aid equipments dwindling. The injured people were under the threat of death, and the others’ lives were endangered as well as the IOF’s pressure increased.”

As Chris spoke, his eyes evoked anger and sorrow as they wandered to his right. He sounded like he was replaying a tape of his most difficult memories. Then he suddenly began stuttering as he said, “My best friend, Hafith Sharay’a, was one of the injured people.” I reminded him that he didn’t have to speak about it if it made him feel bad.

He pulled himself together and kept telling his story. “On the 28th day of the siege, we were on the top floor of the Church of the Nativity, responsible for the lives of the people downstairs and guarding the church, when he was shot in the right side of his stomach. With every drop of blood he lost, my soul burned inside. I couldn’t watch him die and do nothing.” Impatiently I interrupted, asking, “Was he killed?” He shook his head and continued. “His injury left me only two choices: let him bleed to death, or send him to the Israeli Army for treatment, while I was certain that he would afterwards receive at least a life sentence.”

Each option was worse than the other. Chris thought that if Hafith died, he would never see him again. If he was treated and then imprisoned, he might meet him, even though the chance was very small. Hafith and Chris were like soul mates. They didn’t share many things in common. Hafith is older and a Muslim, while Chris is a Christian. However, they prioritized their deep passion for Palestine above everything else. This overcame all their differences, and they share a magical strong friendship which will last forever.

So Chris chose to put his emotions aside and rescue Hafith from death by delivering him to the Israeli army. “On the 29th day, I somehow managed to sneak out of the church and escape.  But ten months later, I was kidnapped by the Israeli Entity’s army.”

Palestinians in Bethlehem are protesting in solidarity with Chris who is deported to Gaza

Chris described in detail the horrible story of his capture. He had gone to visit some of his relatives. Within 20 minutes of his arrival, the Israeli army arrived in great numbers and surrounded the house. He faked a name for himself and answered the police’s questions in a very sarcastic way. He told all his relatives to say his name was Fady if asked, which they did. He refused to admit that he was Chris. After several hours of investigation, pressure, and threats of bombing the house and arresting his mother and brother, one of the children was shedding tears out of fear. Seeing this, a policeman used the child’s innocence and tricked him. After the policeman said that the soldiers would leave if he said the real name of Chris, the child admitted it.

Chris was persistent, and didn’t admit his identity until they were about to bomb the house in front of his eyes. After his confession, he was asked where he had been sleeping at night. He replied, “You bombed my house, so where did you expect me to go? I spent my nights in the cemetery.” The interrogator was very shocked at his reply and asked him, “Weren’t you afraid among all dead bodies in their graves?” He answered, with an angry, challenging look in the Israeli soldiers’ eyes, “One shouldn’t fear the dead. They are dead. But we should be afraid of the living people whose conscience is dead!”

Then they blindfolded him, pushed him inside one of their Gibbs vehicles, and headed to an interrogation center, where he was psychologically and physically tortured for 43 days. Chris constantly thought of his friend Hafith, and hoped that his imprisonment would allow him to meet his best friend again.

This happened in a very narrow cell in Ramla Prison, as he waited to learn in which prison he would be jailed. The detainees were having “foura”, an hour-long break that detainees take daily outside their jails in a hall, and a very small window, closed with a revealing cover, separated him from the hall. Suddenly he glimpsed his friend Hafith and found himself screaming his name loudly to get his attention. “Our re-union was so emotional, especially behind a fenced barrier,” he said with a broken smile.

Their happiness didn’t last long, as they had to separate once the foura was done. Chris was transferred to Asqalan Prison, then to Nafha. “I stayed away from Haifith for over a year, but during that time, I never stopped hoping that God would be kind enough to bring us together again.”

Chris was in Nafha when his friend was transferred there, finally uniting them. Then they went through a series of separations keeping them apart for a total of four years. “A prison offers no sense of stability.” Chris said. “When we were imprisoned, we didn’t stop our struggle, but we started another stage of resistance of a different kind, determination and persistence mixed with hope.”

During the period before Chris was released, he shared a prison cell with Hafith. “Other detainees received the news of their freedom with screams of joy and happiness, but I received it with tears. I didn’t even feel 1% happy, as I realized that only I was included in the swap deal. Even now, I feel like my body is outside but my heart is still inside the prison with Hafith and all the other detainees,” Chris said with sadness on his face.

“I am very grateful for having Hafith as a big brother. But I am broken inside because he didn’t get his freedom back. I am sure that he’s such a steadfast man that nothing can depress his spirit,” he said, attempting to console himself.

Their friendship amazed me. It can’t be described in words. I pray that Haifith, along with all the Palestinian political prisoners, will be freed soon. I hope Hafith maintains his strength which used to inspire and strengthen Chris. Chris said that Hafith made him believe in his principle that “the prison’s door must unlock someday. It’s only an obstacle, and is bound to fade away at some point.” I hope it will be unlocked soon to let all prisoners breathe the sweet fragrance of freedom again.

New Israeli military tactic: Headbutting in Al- Ma’asara

by Alistair George

28 October 2011 | International Solidarity Movement, West Bank

The Israeli military violently obstructed a peaceful demonstration against the Israeli separation wall in Al-Ma’sara, near Bethlehem, today.

Around 25 Palestinians and a similar number of international observers marched from the village at 12:20 PM today and attempted to reach olive groves on Palestinian land just outside of Al-Ma’asara in time for this year’s olive harvest.  A line of thirteen soldiers, backed by reinforcements in three armoured vehicles, pushed and shoved protesters, including a small Palestinian boy, in order to prevent them from leaving the village.

As demonstrators attempted to walk around the line of soldiers, one officer snatched a Palestinian flag from a protester and then head-butted him.

Mahmoud Alaaelddin, President of Al-Ma’sara local council and member of the Popular Resistance Committee, said “Every Friday we try to go to our land and the soldiers always prevent us from going.  They don’t care if there are children at the demonstration; they use more and more violence every Friday.”

After being prevented from peacefully marching to Palestinian land, protesters chanted, sang and remonstrated with the Israeli military for around 30 minutes.  The protest dispersed at 1:00 PM, with Mahmoud Zawahra, member of Al-Ma’asara’s Popular Committee of Resistance, alerting the soldiers of their continued persistence.

“Next Friday we will come with more people and we will fly kites with Palestinian flags.  And for the hundredth time we tell you – you are not welcome here. You are killers and occupying forces,” he said.

Around five minutes after today’s protest ended, a small group of Palestinian youths threw stones at the military, who responded by firing a tear gas canister, causing billowing gas to enter a house and garden at the edge of Al-Ma’asara.

Demonstrations take place in the village every Friday in protest against the separation wall – illegal under international law – which has been used by the Israeli military to expropriate much of the village’s land since 2005.  Work had ceased on the wall near Al-Ma’asara in 2008 after an Israeli court ruling, but it is scheduled to re-commence on 1 January 2011.

If completed, the barrier will expropriate more Palestinian land and will result in the closure of the main road that links Al-Ma’asara to nearby cities in the West Bank.  Al-Ma’sara residents will be forced to take alternative routes, tripling the length of time it takes to drive from the village to Bethlehem or Hebron.

Alaaeldin says that over the past few years Israeli soldiers have come into the village late at night before the Friday’s protest; forcing entire families – including children – to stand in the cold, often for 2-3 hours.

According to Alaaeldin, the Israeli military “wants people to be afraid [to protest].  They say ‘we will arrest you, we will kill you ‘but more people come to the demonstrations and refuse to be scared.”

The Israeli military has not carried out such incursions into the village for three months, but Alaaeldin is concerned that they may start again as soldiers have taken advantage of the cold winter nights to harass people in previous years.

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

House Demolition: Jab’a resident insists he will rebuild again

10th October 2011 | International Solidarity Movement, West Bank.

On 10th October 2011 at 5am Israeli forces demolished a family home in the village of Al Jab’a, about 15 km southwest of Bethlehem.

The owner, Sheikh Nasri, was farming his land at the time of the demolition. Nasri, 50, had been constructing the house for his family of ten children whilst living in a nearby rented property. He had applied for a building permit, which was still pending. Villagers reported that a Demolition Order had not been presented.

Al Jab’a has a population of around 800 and is near the illegal Israeli settlements of Batayim and Nahal Gebaot. In an interview with ISM volunteers, Sheikh Nasri explained that the location of his village is a cause for daily struggle; they are refused access to much of their farm land by the military and endure prolonged assaults from the settler community. When Shieikh Nasri’s 15 year old son attempted to farm their land, soldiers arrested him, and he was detained in an Israeli prison for over 6 months. On another occasion soldiers refused to allow Sheikh Nasri and his pregnant wife to pass through a check point to get to the local hospital – she was forced to have her baby at home without medical care.

 When asked what he plans to do next, Shiekh Nasri remains defiant:

I will build it again, and if they take it down again, I will do it again. And I will do it again. If I die, my son will do it. If my son dies, his son will do it. Until we all die. That’s what I’m planning to do… To stay here, plant the land, build houses and die here. We have no other place to live.

The Israeli wall plan will result in Al Jab’a being besieged by the wall from the north, east and west and bypass road number 367 from the south, effectively isolating it from the rest of the West Bank. Villagers reported that 10 other houses are currently at risk of demolition.

 

Olive trees destroyed outside Bethlehem

31 May 2011 | International Solidarity Movement

Broken olive tree
This morning Maher Abu Sab’a’ discovered that 248 out of the 250 olive tree saplings that had recently been planted on his land had been destroyed over-night. The saplings which had been planted three months previously had been systematically uprooted from the earth and broken with their remains left scattered over the earth. The land is situated outside Bethlehem next to a number of illegal Israeli settlements including Kiryat Arba, one of the largest illegal settlement in the West Bank with approximately 10,000 inhabitants. The attack took place right next to the Israeli checkpoint and watch tower on road 60, however it would appear that there was no intervention in the attack. Last year Maher lost all of the almond and grape trees from his land when settlers set light to the same field. He now plans to re-plant all of the trees he has lost.