Tag: Nablus

Does Santa get through the checkpoint?

Huwarra checkpoint is the main checkpoint to the south of Nablus, and probably one of the worst ones that I have experienced in Palestine.

Every time I pass through, people are being humiliated in many ways: screamed at, beaten, detained, forced to wait for no reason, arrested, you name it. Some days it is open, some days closed. Some days women can get out, some days not and if you are from one of the refugee camps, you might as well forget about being able to get through Huwarra, even on a good day.

So approaching the checkpoint sometime around 4pm, we saw just what I feared; the checkpoint was crammed with people, all of them crushed in a mass trying not to get wet in what was a day of constant rain and bitter cold weather, as well as suffering the beatings and abuse of the soldiers manning the checkpoint. Having been stuck there before in a similar yet less intense version of this situation for at least an hour (but in good weather), I decided that we should just use our privilege as foreigners and just walk through the checkpoint. I had never done this at Huwarra, or any checkpoint, for that matter, but with the weather nasty and the checkpoint even nastier, I just had to do it. So we walked confidently (and inside quite guiltily) past the hundreds of Palestinians, who had been waiting there for hours, and flashed our passports to the soldiers there. They waved us on, but then changed their minds and said to check in with the officer at the end of the checkpoint. We went to him and he asked us the usual stupid questions;

Q: Did you get special permission to be in Nablus?

A: Sir, we were let through the checkpoint when we arrived.

Q: Where did you stay? A hotel?

A: Yes, at the Yasmeen hotel.

Q: Is it a five star hotel?

A: Sir, I have no idea how many stars it has, it is a good hotel.

And more like that; stupid questions asked by young boys with guns that have a slightly hard time mustering up the kind of racism and nastiness that comes easily when questioning Palestinians. After a very poor search of our bags, we passed through Huwarra. Just before leaving, I stopped when I saw that 3 or 4 young male Palestinians were being detained in a small area of the checkpoint. I turned around and asked the soldier that had just let us pass “How long have those boys been there? Why are they there?” The soldier said to me “They hit a soldier,” and made a motion like a slap.

This just made me so angry inside I can’t tell you. Myself and every other person I know that went through that checkpoint that day saw soldiers hitting and beating Palestinians. Of course, I’ve seen it many other times as well; activist friends of mine have been arrested for allegedly beating a police officer, which are just plain lies told by the police (even the Israeli judge in one case stated that he was “outraged” by the behavior of the police). It seems a logical axiom that if one is charged by the Israeli military for beating a soldier, that means a soldier assaulted you.

“They hit a soldier,” he said. So, in response to the officer, I mustered as much sarcasm as I could manage without screaming, and said “Well, that’s too bad,” and walked away (for more descriptions of what checkpoints are like, I highly recommend an article by Gideon Levy, Theater of the Absurd).

And so I left, angry, guilty, just plain revolted at the injustice and brutality of it all. If this was my daily life, what would I do with all these emotions? How would I survive?

Next was to arrange a ride to Ramallah, the next large city before crossing into Jerusalem. What followed was a crazed and dysfunctional process of getting either a taxi for the two of us or waiting until enough people trickle through the checkpoint to fill up a shared taxi.

While we were haggling over prices, we had a surprise; who shows up, but our friend who left hours before us! He had arrived at Huwarra at 1pm, and did not pass through until 4pm!! Even he had tried to use his passport to get ahead of the line, but to no avail; they told him to wait his turn, and that he did. Needless to say, he was happy to see us, and I could not imagine what I would be like mentally after 4 hours of being crushed in a sea of people, in that weather, while watching soldiers beat and abuse people the whole time.

He joined us in the shared taxi, but our travels had not ended yet! Off we went from Huwarra in the pouring rain and thick fog, which did slow traffic from its usual somewhat too fast driving pace, but as a lovely Christmas present to Palestine, the IOF had a few more hurdles to get past. Usually, the next manned checkpoint is at Zaatara, not too far down the road from Huwarra. But on this day, there was an impromptu “flying” checkpoint, as they are called, both before and after the Zaatara checkpoint. It usually consists of an army jeep/truck blocking the road with soldiers out waving people to stop or keep going.

Sometimes taxis alert each other ahead of time and they can be avoided, sometimes not. So, before getting to Ramallah we had to show our IDs and be assessed by soldiers at checkpoints three times. Each time is much like the other, the humiliating experience of being treated like possible criminal just for traveling in Palestine. And as awful as all these experiences were for me yesterday, it is nothing compared to what a Palestinian has to go through. My time here has given me the barest, most basic taste of what it is like, but I would never claim to ‘know’; in the end, I am a foreigner, and eventually, I will leave Palestine with my all powerful passport and white male privilege intact.

And then to Ramallah we arrived. After a walk in the rain, we got our things organized for the next leg of the journey, the crossing at Qalandia checkpoint into the ‘Greater’ Jerusalem area which the Apartheid Wall is annexing to Israel as we speak. Qalandia Checkpoint has always been another one of those nasty, abusive and in the past, makeshift checkpoints, and with the construction of the Apartheid Wall, Qalandia is out of control; blocks of cement, railing, piles of gravel and dirt, fencing, razor wire, sniper towers, and plenty of subversive graffiti, of course. Right next to this is the most surreal thing; where there was once a hill, the hill is no more, and a brand spanking new, shiny and gleaming terminal-like building has been constructed, along with a parking lot and a large sign with a picture of a flower, next to which is written in three languages “The Hope of Us All.” Myself and other activists who have seen this feel that it is only a matter of time until: “Arbeit Macht Frei” or “Despair all ye who enter here” are spray-painted in its place.

This is the new (improved�) Qalandia terminal, paid for by US tax dollars, of course, and it is a cruel joke. I don’t know which is worse, walking through a random assortment of concrete and steel while soldiers point guns treat you like dirt, or a spotless post-post-modern cross between an airport terminal and a sanatorium, with soldiers sitting behind bullet proof glass and yelling commands through a machine while they sit comfortably, as if you are some infected microbe that they dare not be in the same room with. The walls are complete with screens that say “welcome” and other signs saying “please keep the terminal clean,” and “enjoy your stay.” Who was it that designed such a cruel joke? This checkpoint is miles past the 1967 green line, well into Palestinian land, and no one has any possibility of ‘enjoying their stay’ while they are being humiliated, whether up front or by remote control.

So, do you think that that is it? Nope, one more checkpoint, a quick stop while taking a bus to Jerusalem. Everyone on the bus has the process down: lifts up their IDs, the border policeman comes in, looks at them, and then waves us on (on a good day of course). It was close to 9pm when we got to the hostel, a journey of 60 kilometers took about 5 hours (for Aaron, 9 hours) and we had to pass through 6 checkpoints in the process.

And people ask, when will peace come to the Holy Land? God only knows, when people are forced to live like this.

Nablus Region: Palestinian Farmers Protest Massive Settler Vandalism

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

From on Friday Dec. 23 untill Sunday 25 , villagers in Salem and Burin, in the Nablus region, will attempt to replant trees and tend their land near the settlements of Elon Moreh and Bracha and the Har Bracha outpost. The farmers will be joined by Israeli and international activists.

“We haven’t been here for five years,” said one of the farmers from Burin on Thursday, Dec. 15th, as they were taking a break from the plowing of their lands next to Har Brakha. “What do you mean?” another asked. “I haven’t been here since 1989.” “The last time I was here was with my grandfather” a third commented. But on this day, the villagers, accompanied by Israeli activists with Rabbis for Human Rights and ISM internationals, the people of Burin were able to plow their land and tend to their land and trees in peace, despite the attempt of a settler to stop the day’s work.

But on Friday the 16th, 140 trees in that very area were cut down, and on the 19th of December another 100 trees of Burin village were cut down by the settlers of Bracha. This is just one of many acts of property destruction, land theft, and violence committed by the Nablus area settlers who are able to act with impunity and without any significant response by the Israeli military, police or justice system for their actions.

On Friday Dec. 23 and Saturday Dec. 24, villagers in Salem, to the east of Nablus, will attempt to replant trees and tend their land near the settlement of Elon Moreh, joined by Israeli and international activists. All the farmers’ fruit trees in the area that the villagers will attempt to work in are gone, victim to settler attacks on Nov. 27, when 200 trees were cut down, and in October, when settlers burned 50 acres and destroyed more than 300 trees, according to the Israeli daily Yediot Aharanot. There have been ten such attacks in the past two years. Salem villagers have difficulties accessing 2,500 dunums of their land due to settler violence, and Israeli authorities have failed to provide adequate protection.

Where to meet in Burin: Sunday 8:30 AM by the Council building.

Where to meet in Salem: Friday and Saturday at 8:30 AM by the Council building

For more information call:
Mohammed Ayash 054-6218759 or 0522-223374
ISM media office 02-2971824
Arik Ascherman (Rabbis for HR) 050-5607034
The head of Burin village (Arabic only)052-2458857

Israeli Military Attacks Civilian Houses in Nablus

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

This morning, international Human Rights Observers based in the Nablus area witnessed the direct aftermath of what the Israeli military is calling an “arrest operation” – a path of destruction and houses destroyed by gunfire and grenades. To the Palestinians of the Al Maskew and Al Shabir neighborhoods of Nablus, it seemed more like collective punishment for sheltering the fleeing Hamas fighter. Contrary to media reports from the Israeli military, the people of the neighbourhood claimed that the dead fighter did not live in the houses that were attacked by the military.

According to eyewitnesses, at approximately 12:30 last night the Israeli Occupational Forces approached the Al Maskew and Al Shabir neighborhoods of Nablus, which are located close to the Askar refugee camp. A Hamas fighter, Amjad Hanawi had entered the area and was being pursed by the Israeli military. The IOF remained in the neighborhoods until 6 AM and Hanawi was killed at approximately 5:00 AM. There was extensive property damage to 3 apartment buildings, both the interior and the surrounding yards.

At 11:30 this morning, nine Human Rights Observers visited the homes and the families to determine the extent of the damage and get eyewitness accounts. According to them, the Israeli military entered the homes and forced everyone to leave during the night. The men at this time were naked and not allowed to put on clothes, whereas the women were forced to undress while they were outside. The military were attacking from two nearby houses, to the east and west of the buildings. This was clear from the large holes left from grenades shot from M-16 rifles into the apartments, which were at either an upwards or downwards angle, but level with the apartments. There was also damage from explosions which left a wide spray of damage, much like a grenade or fragmentation explosive of some type. Bullet holes were everywhere and all the windows were smashed. According to the families, the Israelis had emptied the homes and continued to fire explosive devices into them, causing extensive property damage in a form of collective punishment. According to eyewitnesses, this all occurred after the wanted man had been killed.

The wanted man had been shot by the Israeli military while jumping over a wall outside the buildings, after which a bulldozer approached and buried him beneath the wall. While doing this the bulldozer did extensive property damage to the surrounding houses.

The ISM condemns this blatant violation of International Law and human rights. The practice of targeted assassination is condemned by the international community, as is the principle of collective punishment.

Boy Shot Dead by IOF in Nablus

Ayer, 8 de noviembre de 2005, hacia las 5 de la tarde. Recibimos una llamada de teléfono que nos dice que hay movimientos militares en las montañas del norte de Nablus. Parece que hay dos hombres heridos y uno desaparecido. Venimos todos al apartamento de ISM a coger linternas y otras cosas útiles, como cámaras, y desde allí cogemos taxis para ir a la zona montañosa donde se están produciendo los movimientos. Una vez allí, se nos comunica que los dos hombres heridos están ya en el hospital y que el desaparecido podría estar herido.

Nos bajamos de los taxis y encontramos el lugar en silencio, sin movimientos, sin vehículos, no parece que hubiese nadie por la zona. Continuamos subiendo por un atajo, siempre subiendo, subiendo, y continuamente llamamos el nombre del hombre, “Mohamed!” y “Internacionales!” o “Médicos internacionales!”. Decidimos que no es buena idea usar luces que podrían atraer la atención de soldados, porque no estamos seguros de que no vaya a haber soldados aún escondidos por la zona. La luna nos ilumina el camino.

Cuando llegamos al final de la carretera decidimos separarnos en dos grupos; uno seguirá subiendo por el camino y el otro bajará por la ladera, por donde hay vegetación donde podría estar el hombre escondido. Yo me voy con el grupo que sigue hacia arriba y al cabo de unos minutos, se nos une un hombre. Es el tío del hombre – en realidad el hombre es un chico de 14 años. Se une a la búsqueda y después de doblar un recodo y subir unos cien metros más, uno del grupo ve a alguien, tumbado. Algunos hombre, incluido el tío, identifican al chico y gritan y lloran. Alguien dice “miradle el pulso” pero alguien replica “está bien muerto”. Al levantarle, su cabeza cuelga y sangra en abundancia. Uno le lleva en brazo y otro llama al otro grupo; las ambulancias están ya esperando abajo en el punto donde no pueden avanzar más por culpa de una barrera formada con piedras.

Algunos de nosotros entonces volvemos a la montaña porque se nos dice que podría haber otro hombre escondido en la zona, puede que herido. Después de unos quince minutos se nos dice que efectivamente, está herido y ya en el hospital. El nombre del chico es Mohammed Abusalha y tiene catorce años. El funeral será mañana aquí en Nablus a las 10 de la mañana.

Boy Shot Dead by IOF in Nablus

On the 8th of November 2005, at around 5pm. We received a phone call telling us that there were some reports of military movements up the northern mountains of Nablus. We were told there was two injured men, and one missing. We all came to the ISM apartment to get torches and necessary things like cameras, and from there we took taxis to the mountainous areas where the movements had been happening. Once there, we learned that the two injured men had been taken to hospital and that the missing man could be injured.

We left in the taxis and found the place in quietness, no movement, no vehicles, no one seemed to be around. We continued up through a short cut, always up, up, and we kept calling the man’s name, “Mohammed!” and “Internationals!” or “International medics!” We decide it is not a good idea to use lights that could attract soldiers’ attention, as we are not sure if they are still around or not. The moon light illuminated our path.

When we got to the end of the road we decided to split into two groups; one would continue on the way up following the path and the other was to go down the hill, where there was some vegetation and he could have been hiding in. I go with the group that goes up and after a few minutes, a man joins us from the dark. He is the missing man’s uncle – it turns out that the man is in fact a boy of 14. The uncle joins us in the search and after a bend in the path and another 100 metres or so, one of the group sees someone else. A few men, including the uncle, identify the boy and start shouting and crying. Someone says, “check his pulse” but some one else replies, “he is dead”. As they lift him, his head is hanging and still heavily bleeding. One takes him down and another phones the other group; the ambulances are already waiting there at the point where they can not advance any more because of a road block made of rocks.

Some of us then go back to the mountain because we have learnt that there could be another man hiding in the area, maybe also injured. After about fifteen minutes we learn that he is injured and already in hospital.

The name of the fourteen years old boy was Mohammed Abusalah. The funeral was in Nablus at 10am to morning after.