3rd May 2016 | Open The Zone Campaign| Hebron, occupied Palestine
On May 3rd 2016, the Open the Zone campaign was launched in cooperation with Zleikha Mohtaseb with a children’s play about oppression, which took place directly outside the arbitrary borders of the closed military zone in Tel Rumeida, Hebron. The campaign targets the deliberate and unjust use of closed military zones to forcibly displace Palestinian residents.
The play, called “Matchsticks,” tells the story about a boy mistreated by his parents and his right to equality and security, which served as an allegory for growing up under occupation. The interactive play encouraged the children to analyse the impact of the Israeli occupation on their lives. Zleikha Mohtaseb stated: “The children showed great maturity in the way they expressed themselves. Their minds seemed beyond their age. A girl said that the play focused on breaking the silence; a boy pointed out the symbolism of the black wall. This is the first time we have heard such eloquent words from them since we started showing the play.” For the children living inside the closed military zone, this play offered a respite from the Israeli forces attempts to stifle any kind of social life and keep Palestinians restrained to the inside of their homes.
Children’s play in Tel Rumeida
The play was the initial event opening the Open the Zone campaign, organised by Youth Against Settlements and the International Solidarity Movement. The campaign calls for an end to the closed military zone in the Tel Rumeida neighborhood and Shuhada street, that was first declared on November 1st, 2015. The military order has been extended several times, and on December 12th it was expanded just enough to include the Youth Against Settlements media center, and has been used to to evict the International Solidarity Movement from the area. The closure enforced through the closed military zone attempts to strangle any and all Palestinian life inside the area, with only residents registered as numbers allowed to enter; thus keeping all visitors, friends, human rights defenders, press and repairmen barred from entering.
Highly militarised childhood for Palestinian children in the closed military zone in Hebron
The campaign focuses on the collective punishment of the Palestinian ṕopulation and the closure as a military strategy to ensure the forced displacement of Palestinian residents in the neighborhood to expand the Israeli settlements project. A press conference will take place on the 7th of May in front of checkpoint 56 to Shuhada street and Tel Rumeida in Hebron.
Zleikha Mohtaseb: “We can’t separate our reality from the occupation.”
Mufeed Sharabati, 50-years, Shuahda Street resident compares living in the closed military zone (CMZ) with prison – just worse: “Life here is even worse than being in jail. A prisoner knows when his sentence is over. A prisoner knows when he can have visits. No-one knows that here. We are caught between checkpoints and soldiers with no idea when it is going to end.”
From his various experiences at Shuhada checkpoint, that he crosses about four times a day, he recounts: “One day my daughter was on her way home from school. She had to go through Shuhada checkpoint, but when she entered the box, they closed the door behind her and locked both the doors in the interrogation box. This was at a time when many people were shot and had knives put next to them. I was afraid of loosing her, and she was terrified of the checkpoint after that. The soldiers checked her bag and eventually let her pass, but the fear and humiliation does not go away.”
The restrictions are clearly intended only for the registered – numbered – Palestinians, while settlers are free to do as they please within the closed military zone. “The closed military zone even made life easier for them. It only counts for Palestinians. Settlers have no checkpoints. No restrictions.”
Thursday, May 26th (Haitham Abu Aisha)
8-year old Haitham Abu Aisha explains that life in the Tel Rumeida neighbourhood inside the closed military zone for him is difficult, and they get a lot of harassment from settlers. Sometimes they would park their car in the only entrance for the family to reach their house, blocking the entrance and preventing them from reaching their home. “They beat me, once they threw a stone at my head”.
Not only the way to his house is full of obstacles and dangers, also the way to school is difficult for him. When going to school, he has to pass a military post on Shuhada Street and go up stairs that only the school-children are allowed to pass, but sometimes the soldiers would not let them pass. Just like on the 10th of May, when they arbitrarily decided that the girls were allowed to go up, but not the boys. After about 15 minutes of the teachers discussing with the soldiers, they were finally allowed to go up the stairs and start their school-day. He recounts how one day on his way home from school he was followed by a settler that had a knife.
When asked for his wishes and hopes for the future, he says: “ I want the settlers to leave and not see any checkpoints anymore.
Monday, May 24th (Sundus)
When the checkpoints are open, Sundus and many others often have trouble going in and out of them. “It is sometimes difficult to pass the checkpoint because of some specific soldiers. They search me, search my bag and sometimes shout at me. Also the Palestinians living in the area have been giving numbers by the Israeli military, which makes us able to get in. Anyone without a number is not allowed.” For Sundus’ family and the other families in the CMZ, this means that they can not have family and friends visit them.
Marwa says: “The time it takes to go through the checkpoint depends on the soldiers there. Some soldiers just want it to go fast, but others have before emptied my schoolbag on the ground in the checkpoint.” It has before been a problem for her to bring her metal ruler with her through the checkpoint to school – it beeps in the metal detector.
There is not any logic to who are stopped or when there are delays “it depends on the mood of the soliders”, explains Arwa. “Last month we were left in the rain for hours”, recounts Sundus.
Saturday, May 21st (Yara picture)
Personal account: Yara
Another resident in the Tel Rumeida neighbourhood within the closed military zone is 7-year old Yara. For her, both her home and the way to school is difficult, mainly because of settlers, but also the soldiers. “I feel scared of the settlers, once a soldier pointed a gun at my father”.
On the way to school, all the children gather to go to the school as a group with the teachers. “When I am with my teacher at a checkpoint, I’m not scared, but when I am alone, I am”. For Yara, on her way to school, she has to pass at least three checkpoints daily each way.
But even her home is not safe from harassment by Israeli forces. “Once when we were not at home, soldiers broke our door and got in the house”, she recounts. When they got back home, soldiers had not only broken the door, but also their wardrobe. In the H2-area of Hebron, that is under full Israeli control, both soldiers and settlers enjoy complete impunity for their deeds and there’s no way for Palestinians to address any of these crimes.
13th May 2016 | Open The Zone Campaign: ISM & YAS | Hebron, occupied Palestine
10 tear old Shada lives inside Hebron’s closed military zone. Watch her talk about growing uo under closures. #OpenTheZone
An old man trying to get through a checkpoint to his home.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1VkRhlMcTgk..
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Headmistress of Qurtuba school, Nora Nassar, about the hardships of having to navigate through a closed military zone and past settlements on the way to and from school and the basic human right to education of every Palestinian child.
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On a personal level, the implementation of the closed military zone affected 22-year old Sundus a lot. Sundus explains: “At first it had a really bad effect on me and also on others living in the area. I felt really scared walking in the streets because of the increased amount of Israeli soldiers and the many settlers in the area. Sometimes, I even stayed at home from university, because of the fright from the closed military zone and the chance of the checkpoint being closed going back home. I do not feel free living in here.”
On her way to university, where she studies to become an English-teacher, she has to pass both through Gilbert checkpoint and Shuhada checkpoint. After the closed military zone was implemented, Israeli forces have started shutting down checkpoints on a regular basis. This leaves people in a situation, where they have to use alternative ways. These often include climbing over walls and walking through agricultural land.
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Marwan is a 12 year old boy who describes very precise, how the closed military zone deprives him from his childhood, being exposed to violence at any time
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Ramzi, 21, talks about being a student and young man living inside the closed miltary zone on Shuhada street
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Children under 16, that do not have an ID, are not assigned a number like their parents and are thus not degraded to a number – but can also not prove that they are ‘registered’ residents in the closed military zone. Instead, if ordered by soldiers, they have to show their birth certificates.
13-year old Marwa explains: “I was once asked to prove that I live in Tel Rumeida. The soldier told me to go home and get my birth-certificate and come back. I never went back, but since then, I always bring it in my back. It does not say where I live, but there is a number on it, that they can check in the computer.”
Since the closed military zone was implemented, Marwa has become more scared of going to school, because of the checkpoint. She does not feel safe and the whole set-up of the checkpoint is frightening, as she is inside a ‘box’ where no-one on the outside can see what is happening to her.
Watch an interview with Marwa:
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To live under a closed military zone (CMZ) is something extremely stressful, annoying and unpleasant. We are few, yet many families living under this system, which was implemented half a year ago. To live under a CMZ means that you can not obtain your very basic rights, which was a problem even before that; the Palestinians who are living in H2 area in Hebron (under total Israeli control) are suffering from so many restrictions. For instance the Palestinians who are living here can not welcome visitors to their homes, no family members nor friends are allowed to enter the closed military zone unless they are registered as numbers at the checkpoint. The people who are living here can not get plumbers or electricians into their houses for repairs, some families may need to take their fridge out of their house in order to fix it then returning it, but unfortunately they cannot take their house out of the CMZ to fix it.
The CMZ is a crime against humanity, a crime against civilians whose fault is that they were born as Palestinians. Non of these families participated in any kind of violence against the soldiers or the settlers, but their life is miserable because of something that they are not responsible for. It is important that the world wakes up, and stops this crime, as the developed countries are signing their conventions about human rights, they must put pressure on whoever is violating these rights.
– Abd Elrahman Salayme, Shuhada Street resident
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10-year old Aisha about her life in the CMZ
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My name is Ahmad Azza, I’m 16 years old and I live in an area called Tel Rumeida, in the H2 area, under full Israeli military control in Hebron. Every time I go to school I have to pass 2 checkpoints. I can’t be free even in my area, I can’t go anywhere because of the soldiers and checkpoints. I live with my family next to Ramat Yishay illegal settlement (or Tel Rumeida settlement). We were attacked by Israeli settlers many times – physically, or they would throw stones, eggs and dirty water. They can easily attack eany Palestinian and soldiers would do nothing about it.
Last month, it was the worst month in 2015/16 in Palestine in general, and in Tel Rumeida and Shuhada Street in Hebron in special, because of the killing of Palestinians by Israeli forces in my area. The army closed the checkpoints, arrested many people without any reason and now the area is a closed military zone (CMZ) – no one can visit us. Only the Palestinians who live in this area can pass the checkpoint with special numbers assigned by the Israeli army and by their ID numbers. Anyone that has not been given a number – even if they live inside the area, is not allowed by the Israeli army to enter inside the area. The situation since the CMZ is getting more and more difficult.
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14-year old Mu’awya talks about the fears of living in the closed military zone in Tel Rumeida in Hebron.
3rd May is number 186 of the closed military zone in Tel Rumeida and Shuhada Street. Since November 1st, only Palestinian residents have been allowed to enter the area due to “security reasons,” as stated by the Israeli military. This violation of the freedom of movement means that no friends, family, or repairmen are allowed, and Palestinians have to pass through checkpoints to reach their homes. However, it is possible for people to access the neighbourhood by using alternative routes to avoid being detected by the army, rendering the so-called security useless.
Instead, the closure serves another purpose, namely to pressure people out of their homes by making their lives there impossible. So far, more than ten families have left the neighborhood. The closed military zone is not only collective punishment (illegal under international law,) but also a thinly-disguised attempt at forced displacement of the Palestinians in the Israeli-controlled part of Hebron. Furthermore, the army assigned numbers to each Palestinian inside the closed area and required people to state their number when entering through the main checkpoint. Today we are launching a campaign to end the closed military zone in Tel Rumeida. Palestinians are people, not numbers.
1st May 2016 | International Solidarity Movement, al-Khalil Team | Hebron, occupied Palestine
On the morning of the 24th of March around 8:30 am two Palestinian youths, Ramzi Aziz al-Qasrawi, 21, and Abed al-Fattah Yusri al-Sharif, also 21, were shot to death by Israeli forces after an alleged stabbing attempt in the Palestinian neighbourhood of Tel Rumeida. The world became aware of the extra-judicial killing of al-Sharif by the Israeli-French army medic Elor Azaria through the footage shot by Imad Abu Shamsiya, resident of Tel Rumeida, co-founder of Hebron Human Rights Defenders and contributor to Israeli human rights group B’Tselem.
Over the last month Imad has become something of a celebrity. He has appeared on Palestinian news, made appearances in international media and has even been interviewed by mainstream British newspaper The Independent. All of which has come at the same time as the settlers in Tel Rumeida and in wider Hebron have issued death threats and upped their campaign of persecution against him and his family.
Imad and his 3 sons, Awne (left), Soli (middle), Muhammed (right), who are all taking part in resistance against the occupation. Photo: Family photo
Last week ISM activists had the privilege of sitting down with Imad and talking about the impact of these events on his life, his family’s history in Hebron, his history of arrests by the Israeli Occupying Forces and his hopes and fears for his life both now and in the future.
Imad’s family have lived in Hebron for generations: “I was born here, my father was born here, my grandfather and my great-grandfather, all born here.” He can trace his family’s presence in Hebron back at least 218 years as the family had a house near to the Ibrahimi Mosque registered in their name from that time, in addition to the family home that they occupy to this day in Tel Rumeida.
Seven years ago in 2009, however, the family’s house in Tel Rumeida was standing empty. Imad knew that it would only be a matter of time before the settlers, by now established in Tel Rumeida and on Shuhada Street, would attempt to sieze the home. It was then that Imad decided to move from his home in H1 (Palestinian-controlled Hebron) to Tel Rumeida in H2. This extraordinary decision was supported by his entire extended family as well as his wife Faiza and his five children (then aged between 4 and 11). Imad himself felt confident in this choice: “At first we thought there was not a lot of difference, just that here there is a checkpoint when there was not one where we had lived before.”
But despite his initial downplaying of the situation, the decision had a huge impact on his family. From the get-go his children would go out to play in the street and they would be attacked by settlers or harassed by the army. However, this only served to strengthen Imad and his family’s desire to stay in Tel Rumeida. Even his youngest son – Salah, now 11 – knows that they are there to stop the settlers from stealing their home and their land.
Sadly this notion of resistance that runs through the whole family has, perhaps unsurprisingly, had some serious ramifications for all of them. No more so than for Imad’s oldest son – Aune, 17. Aune was shot in the foot with a ‘dum-dum’ bullet – live ammunition that splinters on entry – and Imad was further shocked when, at the checkpoint near his home, the local area commander of the Israeli Occupying Force told him that he would kill Aune if he saw him again. They decided it was best to send Aune away to live with relatives and so, a child of seventeen, he cannot live with his mother and father and never sees his four siblings. Moreover the other four children have all, at one time or other, been victims of abuse and attacks at the hands of the settlers. Although perhaps the worst that the family have lived through is the current situation and the death threats that Imad has experienced since his role in the video of the extra-judicial killing was made public. Imad, however, has been through extremely challenging times before and is undaunted by the situation he faces.
Imad in his house, which is regularly targeted by settlers and army
In the late eighties during the first Intifada a young Imad – sixteen years of age – would, like many young male Palestinians at that time, go to the demonstrations in protest of the Israeli occupation. The Israeli forces then, as now, would shut these demonstrations down with extreme measures. On one such occasion – on Friday 20th of January 1988 – Imad found himself hospitalised having been shot in the hand with live ammunition: “I was in hospital in Jerusalem for fifty days recovering and at that time the Israelis came and arrested me.” In prison Imad was questioned for eighteen days, accused of being a ringleader and organiser. Finally brought before the court he was sentenced to six months in prison for his role as a demonstrator: “then, thirteen days after I was released that first time, they arrested me again and sentenced me to another six months in prison.” He wasn’t to know it then but this was the first year of a total of four years and two months that he would spend in prison.
On the 16th of February 1991 Imad was arrested once again and this time he was kept in solitary confinement for 111 days: “Imagine it. You are alone, without water to wash with, you don’t see the sun, you are cold, it’s winter, you are in a t-shirt and shorts.” During this time he was tortured: beaten, subjected to stress positions and consistently interrogated. He was accused of throwing stones and molotov cocktails as well as being a leader within the Intifada. He denied all accusations and after 111 days, when they had nothing to charge him with, he was taken before the court and sentenced to another six months detention regardless.
Example of common stress-position (torture position) utilised in Israeli interrogation
Once again in 1992 he was arrested and again he was kept in solitary confinement, this time for a period of 75 days. Refusing to confess to the false accusations of violence that were leveled at him, Imad was sentenced to six more months of detention without charge.
In 1995 Imad, specifically due to his position as a citizen of the already divided town of Hebron, was part of a large group of Palestinians who objected to the terms of the Oslo Agreement. As such he was part of a mass-arrest and sent to the infamous Naqab Prison in the Negev Desert where he was detained for a further six months. Imad would be arrested twice more – in 1997 and 1999. On both occasions he was arrested in the middle of the night, taken from his family home, not questioned or interrogated, but sentenced to a further six months detention.
Taking this history of persecution and Imad’s lifelong resistance into account, it is perhaps less surprising to picture Imad and Faiza agreeing with their children to move to the front line of resistance when they moved to Tel Rumeida in 2009. Then two years ago he formed Hebron Human Rights Defenders with Badee Dwalik, and Imad’s journey towards infamy began. Having been trained in the use of video cameras by B’Tselem, Imad and Badee recruited others from Tel Rumeida and wider Hebron and trained them to use video cameras donated by anti-Zionist activists in the US. Imad even trained his wife and children to use the cameras: the whole family knows that if things get bad with soldiers and/or settlers then the first recourse is to pick up a camera and to document. Now Badee and Imad plan to teach the local children in Tel Rumeida how to use the cameras: they intend to resist the occupation by exposing it’s most inhumane and abusive elements.
Badia from Human Rights Defenders at a school in Tel Rumeida, teaching the kids how to film.
All of which leads us neatly back to the events of the 24th March this year (and you can read about the events of that day from Imad’s perspective here.) One would have thought that living with his wife and four of his children in occupied Hebron, with the constant threat of attack by settlers as well as harassment by soldiers out for revenge for him having made the video, Imad would feel some negativity about his life now, or at least have mixed feelings about having found fame in this way. Nothing could be further from the truth: “if I could go back in time and had the opportunity to maybe not shoot the film I wouldn’t take it. I would always want the world to see what Palestinians have always known goes on”. Still, one could forgive if he felt that perhaps it would be best if his family left Tel Rumeida: “we will never leave here. They can harass us and attack us but we will not let them have our family’s home and our land. This is something my wife and children agree with 100%. We will not leave.” And would he leave Hebron? “Never.”
The occupation could have ground Imad Abu Shamsiya down. They have tried everything that they can to ruin his spirit – from torture and arrest to death threats and harassment – but Imad is a man, supported by his extraordinary family, who personifies the strength and the generosity of spirit demonstrated by the Palestinian people in the face of such indignity and suffering. He certainly touched and moved the ISM activists that had the pleasure of sitting down and chatting with him.
Lastly it is ISM’s pleasure to convey a message from Imad to the international community, to the political class and to all Palestinians:
“As Palestinians we always said that extra-judicial killings happened. Now people have seen my video I hope that the world will know that they do. Now people know what we live with and I hope we can work together to end the occupation so that we, the Palestinian people, can be free.”
2nd May 2016 | International Solidarity Movement, al-Khalil team | Deir Istiya, Kafr Qaddum, Ni’lin; occupied Palestine
Last week, as every week, Israeli forces attacked demonstrations in the West Bank against the illegal Israeli land-theft, the apartheid-wall and illegal Israeli settlements.
In Deir Istiya, near Nablus in northern occupied West Bank, farmers continued their protest against the closure of agricultural roads that are essential for them to reach their land and thus ensure their own and their families income. The protest, as during the last few weeks, started with a prayer close to the settler road that cuts the farmers off from their land and prevents their access.
Farmers in Deir Istiya protesting the closure of their agricultural roads
In Kafr Qaddum village, demonstrators went out in their weekly march to protest against the closure of their main access road to the closest nearby village, Nablus. With the closure of the main road, the once 10-minute drive to nearby Nablus now takes at least half an hour – time that can be essential in case of emergencies and can thus cost the essential time an ambulance needs to reach a hospital on time. This closure clearly illustrates the Israeli apartheid policies as the only reason is to facilitate movement for the illegal settlement of Kedumim.
Israeli forces fired rubber coated metal bullets, stun grenades and excessive amounts of tear gas at the demonstrators. Three Palestinians were injured, one had his hand burned when hit with a hot tear gas canister, and two were injured when hit with rubber coated metal bullets in the stomach and back. Several suffered from excessive tear gas inhalation, as the Israeli forces deliberately attacked the whole village in an act of collective punishment.
Israeli forces chasing demonstrators, illegal settlement can be seen in the back
In the West Bank village of Ni’lin, Israeli forces this week, unlike before, did not invade the village before the start of the demonstration. The demonstrators therefore marched up to the soldiers. Surprisingly – and in contrast to years of demonstrations, Israeli forces last Friday did not target civilian homes with tear gas or use any other means of supposedly ‘less-lethal’ ‘crowd-control’ weapons. Israeli forces did shoot some tear gas, but not the amounts the villagers have become used to in the years of struggle against the illegal apartheid wall separating them from the majority of their farming land. The villagers are now hoping, that the collective punishment of the whole village, the targeting of civilians and the use of excessive force has come to an end.
had a really bad effect on me and also on others living in the area. I felt really scared walking in the streets because of the increased amount of Israeli soldiers and the many settlers in the area. Sometimes, I even stayed at home from university, because of the fright from the closed military zone and the chance of the 
To live under a closed military zone (CMZ) is something extremely stressful, annoying and unpleasant. We are few, yet many families living under this system, which was implemented half a year ago. To live under a CMZ means that you can not obtain your very basic rights, which was a problem even before that; the Palestinians who are living in H2 area in Hebron (under total Israeli control) are suffering from so many restrictions. For instance the Palestinians who are living here can not welcome visitors to their homes, no family members nor friends are allowed to enter the closed military zone unless they are registered as numbers at the checkpoint. The people who are living here can not get plumbers or electricians into their houses for repairs, some families may need to take their fridge out of their house in order to fix it then returning it, but unfortunately they cannot take their house out of the CMZ to fix it.
My name is Ahmad Azza, I’m 16 years old and I live in an area called Tel Rumeida, in the H2 area, under full Israeli military control in Hebron. Every time I go to school I have to pass 2 checkpoints. I can’t be free even in my area, I can’t go anywhere because of the soldiers and checkpoints. I live with my family next to Ramat Yishay illegal settlement (or Tel Rumeida settlement). We were attacked by Israeli settlers many times – physically, or they would th
residents have been allowed to enter the area due to “security reasons,” as stated by the Israeli military. This violation of the freedom of movement means that no friends, family, or repairmen are allowed, and Palestinians have to pass through checkpoints to reach their homes. However, it is possible for people to access the neighbourhood by using alternative routes to avoid being detected by the army, rendering the so-called security useless.
