Israel permits settler invasion of Al-Aqsa on Muslim holiday

Worshippers flee from riot police in Al-Aqsa

August 11 | International Solidarity Movement | Old City, East Jerusalem, occupied Palestine

Hundreds of settlers invaded the Al-Aqsa compound in Jerusalem’s Old City this morning after Israeli soldiers used tear gas, sound grenades and rubber-coated steel bullets to clear out Muslim worshippers.

61 Palestinians were injured and 15 hospitalised when soldiers and police let loose on tens of thousands of Muslims celebrating the first day of Eid al-Adha.

Just minutes after the morning prayer, the peaceful scene descended into chaos as men and women were beaten by riot police and children ran screaming from tear gas and sound grenades.

A Palestinian from East Jerusalem who witnessed the violence told ISM that he saw an elderly man hit by soldiers, and three other men beaten and covered in blood before being arrested.

The Red Crescent reported that one man suffered a broken jaw while others were treated for rubber-coated steel bullet wounds and burns from exploding sound grenades. ISmers also saw two men arrested inside the Lion’s gate.

Muslims pray at the Lion’s Gate entrance in Jerusalem’s Old City

 

After many Palestinians fled from the compound, 1,700 settlers in total were given permission to enter – the second time this year during a Muslim holiday. They were escorted by heavily armed soldiers in smaller groups of 100-200. The ultra-nationalists claimed to be seeking entry to commemorate Tisha B’Av, a Jewish holiday, which coincided this year with Eid al-Adha.

However Palestinians believe that the invasion was entirely politically motivated. “It’s a political issue and nothing to do with religion,” the East Jerusalem resident told ISM. “They want to show who has the power, who are the ones in charge. Don’t forget, it’s election time and these fanatics are very important to win over for the Israeli government.”

Hundreds of settlers were waiting by the Dung Gate entrance of the compound near the Western Wall from around 8am, chanting over the bangs of sound grenades exploding inside.

The number of settlers permitted to enter was 17% more than on Tisha B’Av last year when the Jewish holiday did not coincide with Eid al-Adha.

Ultra-nationalist Jews wait at the Dung Gate to enter Al-Aqsa compound
Ultra-nationalist Jews wait at the Dung Gate to enter Al-Aqsa compound
Ultra-nationalist Jews praying in Jerusalem Muslim Quarter

They continued their provocations for the rest of the day, trying repeatedly to enter the Al-Aqsa compound through different gates. As late at 8.30pm, ISMers saw the fanatics holding a ceremony by the Lion’s Gate entrance to Al-Aqsa. A local told ISM that this display has never happened before. “There’s no limits, no limits to what they are doing today,” he said.

 

The extremist groups had released a call out earlier this week to raid the compound on Sunday.

In an attempt to prevent the settler invasion the Muslim Waqf – the authority that controls the compound – had delayed the prayer by an hour and encouraged worshippers to stay in Al-Aqsa afterwards to deter the Israeli government giving them the green light.

Ultra-nationalist Jews praying at one of the gates of Al Aqsa mosque in the afternoon
Ultra-nationalist Jews praying at one of the gates of Al Aqsa mosque in the evening

But after thousands of Palestinians fled the compound the numbers inside were low enough to be deemed ‘safe’ for settlers to enter.

Muslims were also prevented from re-entering the site for around two hours after.

A Palestinian woman sat crying at the Lion’s Gate after being refused entry and a man was briefly detained and searched. Another woman who was also denied entry and aggressively pushed back by soldiers when she tried to pass said: “I am a Muslim. I am outside. There are Israelis inside. Inside my Al-Aqsa.”

 

Worshippers were eventually allowed back in to the compound after being forced to wait for hours while settlers roamed free inside.

For the past 10 years, Israel has been making steps to control the holy site, allowing more and more ultra-nationalist Jews to enter.

A movement in Israel’s far right is behind this push for more access to the compound. They are also seeking permission which would allow Jews to pray at the site which is currently forbidden.

Photos: Eid al-Adha under the Gaza siege

18th October 2013 | International Solidarity Movement, Charlie Andreasson | Gaza, Occupied Palestine

It’s Eid al-Adha, the festival commemorating Ibrahim, or Abraham as the Christian part of the world knows him, and his willingness to sacrifice his son. He never had to do it, and none of the three monotheistic religions are associated with human sacrifice, since his son was replaced by a ram. And it’s meat that is central to dining tables during this commemoration.

Small Ferris wheels across the Gaza Strip mark E-d al-Adha. (Photo by Charlie Andreasson)
Small Ferris wheels across the Gaza Strip mark Eid al-Adha. (Photo by Charlie Andreasson)

According to custom, the more affluent share their abundance after slaughtering their best animals. One third is given to the poor, one third to relatives, friends and neighbors, and the remaining third remains on dishes at home. Most of the wealthy no longer keep livestock, but rather buy food and then distribute it. It’s not uncommon to see people knocking on doors with bags in their hands.

Children wear new clothes to celebrate Eid al-Adha. (Photo by Charlie Andreasson)
Children wear new clothes to celebrate Eid al-Adha. (Photo by Charlie Andreasson)

This religious festival is not primarily about meat. But like the Christian part of the world celebrates Christmas, gifts and sweets are obvious feature. And clothes. Wherever you go in the streets you see people in their finest, and preferably new, clothes. Children are shorn and dressed up, and move more cautiously than usual so as not to dirty themselves. When darkness falls, people fill the streets to socialize and enjoy. There is an exhilaration that, to an observer, not even the intensified overflights of F-16s seems to obstruct.

A row of stores closed for the holiday. (Photo by Charlie Andreasson)
A row of stores closed for the holiday. (Photo by Charlie Andreasson)

But  something casts a shadow over the celebrations. The situation is getting worse in this coastal strip. Now that Egypt has made common cause with Israel, it is precariously difficult for people and goods to cross the border. The destruction of smuggling tunnels, the lifeline for people and businesses, has deepened the crisis. In addition, the media shadow is also falling over Gaza, as its siege has been all but hidden by the crisis in Syria. Last year, charities distributed 400,000 kilograms of livestock and winter clothing for 3,000 children. This year, there was significantly less. And rising unemployment, as a result of the intensifying blockade and warfare by the occupation forces against farmers and fishermen, has put its mark on the celebration of Eid.

A father and son in their Eid clothes. (Photo by Charlie Andreasson)
A father and son in their Eid clothes. (Photo by Charlie Andreasson)

A poor society is rarely equal. Although some can manage well, while others seem to do so, the proportion of destitute people constantly increases. For them, Eid is another moment of exclusion from society, when they do not have enough food on the table to invite family and friends over, when they do not have new clothes to show off, when the consequences of the occupation, its heavy shade, prevent them from rejoicing with the diminishing ranks of those who can.

Eid al-Adha occurs the day after pilgrims complete the hajj pilgrimage to Mecca. For many of the people of Gaza, the pilgrimage was an impossibility, and had it been possible, they would have returned to empty plates. The intensifying overflights to mark the occupying power’s presence are hardly necessary. The consequences of its policies are increasingly clear, even without this constant reminder.

Bittersweet Eid

by Lydia de Leeuw

19 November 2011 | A Second Glance

Donkey carts lined up opposite the market in Jabaliya refugee camp (Photo: Lydia de Leeuw, A Second Glance) – Click here for more images

Last week Eid al Adha was celebrated in Gaza and other Muslim communities worldwide. Eid al Adha is one of the most important holidays in Islam, marking the end of the Haj (annual pilgrimage to Mecca) season and symbolizing sacrifices for Allah as well as asking for forgiveness. The official day of Eid al Adha, which fell on Sunday 6 November this year, is celebrated by ritually slaughtering animals, such as cows and sheep, and parents giving their children a new outfit and some pocket money to buy toys. The meat of the slaughtered animals is divided among families and neighbours, and especially shared with those who cannot afford to buy meet.

While spending a wonderful time with friends and their families during Eid, I reflected on the essence of holidays. Regardless of the location, religion or traditions, celebrations of holidays seem to have three core elements in common: spending time with family, giving to others and a feeling of happiness. But what does a holiday look like without those?

Many families in the Gaza Strip had to celebrate another Eid without their brother, son, father, daughter, or sister. Following last month’s prisoner exchange between Israel and Hamas, there are still about 5,500 Palestinians[1] languishing in 22 Israeli prisons and detention facilities.[2] Over 700 of these prisoners are from Gaza and have not seen their relatives for many years as the Israeli occupation authorities have not allowed any family visits. On the second day of Eid several relatives (mostly mothers) of Palestinian prisoners gathered in front of the Red Cross Office in Gaza city. They held a weekly sit-in demonstration in support of their imprisoned family members. They have been coming together in solidarity, holding pictures of the sons, every Monday morning for the past 17 years. The constant sadness over the absence of their relatives seemed even more tangible during this important holiday. A woman sitting next to me showed me a picture of her son, saying she had not seem him for four years and that she always kept hoping that he would come home again the following day. She had been cherishing this hope for the past eleven years. There seems to be no other consolation than to hope that one day she would see him again, so we just repeated together “insh’allah” (God willing).

For Eid al Adha it is tradition to buy  a new outfit for your children and to give them some money for buying toys. However, the suffocating closure of the Gaza Strip has made increasingly difficult for parents to provide for their families, let alone giving their children something extra. The closure has brought the Gaza economy to a standstill and has driven the unemployment rate up to a staggering 42,5%. Approximately 75% of the people in Gaza receive humanitarian aid of some sort. So for many parents in Gaza Eid means more struggling and juggling; more borrowing, and trying to figure out a way to give their kids the traditional Eid gifts. Even more than usual, the high food prices were a ‘hot topic’ for conversation and everyone was eager to find out where to go for the best deal.

Two days before Eid, when I was on my way to visit a friend in the north, I learned about another absurdity of the circumstances in Gaza. Throughout the streets and fields I noticed there was an unusual number sheep, cows and goats. Since there is not a lot to eat here for those animals and many of them were grazing around rubbish dump sites, I started wondering: where had these herds of fluffy Eid meals come from? Turned out that a lot of the animals for Eid are smuggled (yes, smuggled) in through the tunnels with Egypt. Even though I could have expected this, I was still shocked. Even the holiday meals have become a smuggled commodity. Looking at these goats, sheep and cows and visualising their trip through the tunnels, the absurdity of the policies once again hit me.

Besides the absence of loved ones and the financial struggles, there is the ever present risk of army attacks from the border, the sea, and especially air. A week before Eid, 15 year old Rawand Tayseer Abu Mughassib was on her way to her grandmother’s house nearby, for an evening visit. They all live close to the border area in the central Gaza Strip. As Rawand headed for the front gate, separating the house from the road in front of it. Suddenly, an Israeli plane fired a missile which landed four to five meters away from her, on the road. She was lucky to be one step away from the gate, with the wall protecting her from most of the deadly shrapnel. The gate was blown out of the wall and only just missed Rawand.  She was injured in her left hand, and three houses (including that of her family) were damaged. The missile apparently targeted Palestinian fighters in the area. Since the attack, Rawand and her siblings are very anxious, especially after sunset, and are afraid of being alone. Rimas, Rawand’s little sister wakes up crying from nightmares every night and has started bedwetting. The father, Tayseer, says he does not know how he can comfort his children when they are so full of fear: “there is nothing I could do or say, instead of just being there with them”. He says he is also struggling with his own fears, but that he insists to no show this to his children. Rawand and her family started their Eid with fear, feeling abandoned and unprotected.[3]

In a place like Gaza holidays seem as much a test of the people’s resilience and strength as a time of joy and celebration.


[1] Among those thousands are 251 children, 37 women, and at least 124 prisoners who are detained for long periods without charges.

[2] Most of these prisons and detention facilities are located within Israel. The imprisonment of Palestinians from the occupied territories (Gaza Strip, West Bank) in Israel is illegal under international law and violates the Fourth Geneva Convention, particularly Article 76, which stipulates that “Protected persons accused of offences shall be detained in the occupied country, and if convicted they shall serve their sentences therein.”

[3] The Israeli occupation army often uses heavy airstrikes to target fighters in the densely populated Gaza Strip, often risking to cause civilian casualties, who will then be called ‘collateral damage’. Since January this year 18 civilians were killed and 16 injured in airstrikes which targeted fighters in the Gaza Strip. Of those who were killed, 3 were children.

Remembrance in Beit Hanoun

by Nathan Stuckey

9 November 2011 | International Solidarity Movement, Gaza

It is Tuesday, the third day of Eid, the Eid of the Sacrifice.  We, the Beit Hanoun Local Initiative and the International Solidarity Movement, have gathered near the bombed remains of the Beit Hanoun Agricultural College like we do every Tuesday in preparation for our march into the no go zone.  This Tuesday is different though, we are not gathered on the road that leads into the no go zone, but behind the bombed buildings of the College.  Like much of Palestine, history is densely packed, every place has a story, today, we would learn the story of this small area.   Today marks the five year anniversary of the Beit Hanoun massacre.  Before us, lie the graves of its victims.

On November 8, 2006 at six in the morning the Israeli army began shelling Beit Hanoun.  The shells landed on the houses of the A’athamnah and the Kafarnah families.  Not just one shell, the shelling continued for fifteen minutes.  Round after round fell on their houses.  Nineteen people were killed, nine children, four women and six men.  The youngest was only a baby of a couple of months, the oldest a 73 year old woman.  Forty more people were injured.  They were all civilians, not even the Israeli army bothers to claim that they were armed; they were sleeping in their beds.

The graves are just off the road, just behind the Agricultural College.  They are large; each of them contains several bodies, large gray slabs of concrete with names and prayers inscribed on them.  Abu Issa, from the Beit Hanoun Local Initiative speaks; he prays for the dead and asks us to remember the past.  This massacre is barely the past though; it is almost the present, even if forgotten in so much of the world.  His words end, as they must, on the present, “we did not ask for the occupation, we have always lived here, it came to us, but we cannot accept it, we must continue the struggle until the occupation ends.”   We hang a wreath next to the first grave.

We walk slowly down the row of graves; Abu Issa reads us the names of the dead.  We reach the grave of Maisa, age six.  I cannot help but look away, for I have my own Maisa, who was also six in 2006.  She isn’t my daughter, she is my English student.  He name is Maisa Samouni.  Twenty nine members of her extended family were murdered in much the same way by the Israeli army, herded into a house by soldiers, and then the house was shelled by the IDF.  I wonder what this Miaisa would look like today, would she be as smart and kind and beautiful as my Maisa?  As we reach the end of the graves we come to the graves that have been destroyed, destroyed by Israeli bulldozers in subsequent invasions of Gaza.

We turn away from the graves and look toward the border.  At the concrete towers which line it, full of snipers and computer controlled guns which kill at will.  Abu Issa begins to tell us about the area that we see in front of us.  It was here that the men of Beit Hanoun were imprisoned during the first week of November 2006.  Israeli forces had invaded Beit Hanoun; all males between the ages of 14 and 60 were rounded up and brought here.  For six days the slept in the open, in the cold, while the Israeli army took them for questioning.  Fifty three people were killed and over 200 injured during the invasion.  The day after Israeli forces withdrew; they fired the shells which would kill nineteen more, including Maisa.

After the memorial service we piled into the van and went to the east of Beit Hanoun to visit the Al Jareema family.  The Al Jareema’s are Bedouin family that lives right next to the no go zone.  They have not always lived there, the used to live in 1948, but they were expelled by the Zionists during the Nakba, them and 750,000 other Palestinians.  They settled in Gaza.  They lived right next to the border, their houses used to be 50 meters from the border.  Then, the Israeli’s decided to impose the buffer zone on Gaza, the family received a notice that they must move.  There was no appeal.  Israeli bulldozers came and destroyed their houses.  They destroyed the pens for the animals.  They destroyed the groves of trees that used to thrive in the no go zone.

Now, the family lives in a collection of tents and shacks about 500 meters from the border.  As you look toward the border you see a particularly large gray tower, it is from this tower that the Israeli army shoots at them.  They have nowhere to go, so they stay living here, surviving as best they can on the land that Israel has not seized.  We bring them sweets to celebrate Eid, they serve us tea and freshly made bread.  They ask us to stay for lunch, but we must go, there is a wedding going on in Beit Hanoun.  Life continues.  I pray that the children of the new couple grow up in a more just world, in a free Palestine.  This is what we struggle for.

Eid in Sheikh Jarrah

by Wahed Rajol

7 November 2011 | International Solidarity Movement, West Bank

ISM has maintained a daily presence at the al-Kurd residence in Sheikh Jarrah since August 2009 when Israeli authorities paved the way for Israeli settlers to occupy the front part of the family home.  On the first night of Eid al-Adha, on November 6th, 2011, three international volunteers camped in a make shift area just outside of the residence, located in the same area where the ISM tent was before it was burned to the ground by the settlers just two months ago.

Thirteen al-Kurd family members spanning three generations gathered to celebrate the Muslim holiday.  In tradition, gifts were given to the children and the women of the family.  All enjoyed a dinner of lamb, salad, mansef (a local dish of bread, yogurt, and meat), and burma for dessert.  And as always in Palestine, plenty of tea and coffee was prepared and enjoyed.
After staying the night I had more time to talk with Nabil.  He showed me the blankets he’d been forced to hang to prevent water, vomit, and human waste being tossed at the family from the windows of the house occupied by illegal Zionist settlers.  They were hung between the areas where his children used to play and the greatly reduced patio space just outside his family’s entrance.  The metal gate that once separated the space was torn down by the settlers.  The swing and seasaw that his children once enjoyed were also dismantled by settlers and now lie unusable in the back of the house.

The violence directed toward the Al-Kurds does not stop with the constant verbal abuse and the tossing of liquids.  One female family member, for example, has been beaten on six occasions, each time requiring medical attention.  On this first night of Eid, the settlers ran power tools until 3 AM, and dogs barked loudly, making sleep difficult for the family.
Activists were doused with water several times throughout the evening as well.

Nabil’s wife and daughters left early Monday, the second day of Eid Al-Ahda.  Below are Nabil and his son Mahmoud just before leaving for more family festivities.

Nabil al Kurd and his son Mahmood

 

Wahed Rajol is a volunteer with International Solidarity Movement (name has been changed).