Bruqin avoids arrests: Planting hope for Khader Adnan

by Jonas Weber

13 February 2012 | International Solidarity Movement, West Bank

Villagers of Bruqin and supporters went out today to plant trees in the field by the factory. While trees were planted alongside pictures of Khader Adnan, two young men sneaked over to the fence of the factory and put up Palestinian flags.

In the outskirts of Bruqin, a small village in the Salfit area, there is a field where old Roman ruins slumber amongst the olive trees. The field would be a peaceful place if it was not for the huge Israeli factories built on stolen land right next door. The Israeli factories have caused pollution in the area, contaminating crops and pastures. The rapid settler expansion in the Salfit area is stirring up distress among the residents in Bruqin who worry that even more of their land will be stolen.

Being attacked for harvesting resistance - Click here for more photos

 

In the Salfit area, 19 Palestinian villages are surrounded by 22 illegal settlements. It is a cluster of stolen land that is threatening to cut the West Bank in two if expansion is allowed to continue. Israel plans to build train tracks from Tel Aviv to the illegal settlement of Ariel, which would speed up this divide.

As the land repairing villagers came closer to the factory, they drew on the attention of the illegal settler security, and a man with a rifle demanding for volunteers to leave. Since the tree planting was taking place on Palestinian soil these calls where not heard by the villagers. A few minutes later the first Israeli soldiers started showing up asking the tree planters to move back from the factory. As some men decided to plant yet another tree at the edge of the factory area, they were surrounded by soldiers and one man was pulled away from the group.

ISM activists tried to get a straight answer as to the reason of the man’s arrest, but it was of no avail. Instead the soldiers surrounded yet another group of men and started tugging at them.

When questioned why they were attempting to arrest Palestinians, the only answer offered by the soldiers was that the area had been declared a closed military zone and that the man had been bothering the soldiers. However the soldiers could not produce any document proving the declaration of the area beeing a military zone.

ISM activists demanded to see relevant paperwork in support of the military’s claims, else they must release the man since there were  no substantial suspicions against him. After apoximately 20 minutes of avoiding the stares of upset activists and villagers, the soldiers retreated, and after some further negotiations back and forth the Palestinian man was  successfully de-arrested and released.

Though this particular case ended with nothing worse than a pair of sore wrists, it is a clear example of the lawlessness suffered by Palestinians under Israeli military law.

Jonas Weber is a volunteer with International Solidarity Movement (name has been changed).

Turtles in Aqraba

by Jonas Weber

10 February 2012 | International Solidarity Movement, West Bank

Planting trees in Aqraba

“Hurry up you turtles!” Wael yelled in the distance. He had suddenly turned this walk into some kind of contest. We skipped across the rocky landscape of Palestine, dirty and with the sun in our eyes.

We were planting trees in the small village of Aqraba, putting up pictures of our missed friends Rachel Corrie and Vittario Arrigoni. Men and women, young and old were helping out with the planting, and we were treated to tea sweet as syrup. Aqaba has lost 144,000 dunums of land to the ten illegal settlements surrounding the village. A road is being built between the settlements of Itamar and Gittit, effectively grabbing even more of the 17,000 dunums still in the villages possession.

After the planting some villagers insisted on showing us something on the other side of the mountain adjacent to the hillside on which we were planting the trees. We went down the slope between the blooming red, yellow, and purple flowers. We crossed the road leading from Itamar to Gittit and started climbing around the hill on the other side. From a rock right next to the trail a turtle watched us wobble past a hyenas nest with our arms stretched out to our sides, so as not to lose our balance.

On the other side of the hill, was a cave used by sheepherders as a place to sleep for hundreds of years. A few steps further down the road I got to see my first blooming almond tree of the year. Beyond that, the lemon groves stretched across the floor of the valley.

We were given lemons and oranges by the farmers and their children. I used the few Arabic phrases I knew to express my gratitude. Then we started the journey back to the olive trees. We picked up speed, not even stopping to admire the stunning view of the rolling green hills of the West Bank. Wael picked up the pace, treading with experienced feet over the rocky ground.

As a worn-out tourist and skeptic, who has long given up the search for the genuine and untouched, I find myself in this setting, my hands sticky with the sour juice of fresh lemons. The sheep grazing the mountainside stare at me just like the turtle, the street vendors of the old city of Nablus, and the children of Balata. As a Westerner I stand out here, without ever feeling like an outsider. The stare of the turtle, the sheep, the vendors, the children are all full of anticipation and curiosity, as is mine when I round the steep mountainside to catch up with Wael.

“Hurry up you turtles!” he yells in the distance.

But I find no reason to hurry. Palestine has greeted me well.

Jonas Weber is a volunteer with International Solidarity Movement (name has been changed).

Celebrating heroes and olives: Qaryut begins to dismantle roadblock

by Aaron

5 February 2012  | International Solidarity Movement, West Bank

Taking apart Israeli Occupation - Click here for more images

Hundreds of peaceful demonstrators confronted heavily armed Israeli soldiers this Friday, February 3rd,  at a new protest in the village of Qaryut, planting nearly one hundred trees and partially demolishing the roadblock that has obstructed access to the highway since the First Intifada.

Although organizers were prepared for military violence, the protest remained peaceful until the end, and demonstrators marched home triumphantly with a promise from the military to remove the roadblock with a bulldozer, which they did later the same day. While the villagers celebrated this as a victory, Qaryut’s people continue to struggle for control of their lands and recognition of their rights. As of the publishing date, it is uncertain what will be the nature of future protests.

Although Qaryut villagers annually plant trees on their lands, a recent history of settler violence and military intervention drew the Qaryut Youth and Village Councils, together with Stop the Wall Campaign, to organizing a confrontational but peaceful demonstration.
Beginning after Friday prayers, villagers of all ages met with Israeli, international, and other Palestinian supporters at the village center before parading several kilometers down the village’s once- main road towards Highway 60.

With children holding banners and Red Crescent volunteers and solidarity activists in the front, some 400 demonstrators marched down the valley road—above them Israel soldiers, military jeeps, and several counter-protestors thought to be from the hilltop illegal settlements nearby. As protesters climbed over the bulldozed roadblock of dirt and rocks, they were greeted on their land by several dozen heavily armed soldiers in riot gear and jeeps armed with cannons for firing multiple volleys of tear gas canisters. When the crowd did not stop, soldiers closed in on the front but did not fire—and organizers entered into dialogue with commanders, explaining that it was a non-violent protest and were demanding access to their land.

While soldiers were noticeably uncomfortable in close quarters, fingering pepperspray canisters and a few times shoving aggressively, their was no attack on either side. While some protesters faced off with soldiers, the youth began furiously picking away at the roadblock, while a mix of youth and adults dug holes and planted trees with printed images of Palestinian and international activists martyred in the struggle for Palestinian liberation.

Photos of George Habash, Vittorio Arrigoni, Rachel Corrie and other heroes adorn trees planted by volunteers

When all the trees were planted and much, but not all, of the barricade demolished, the Israeli commander promised to finish the job with a bulldozer that afternoon if the crowd would withdraw. Though demonstrators agreed, many expressed doubt that the commander would follow through—and organizers began preparations for the next demonstration, expecting they would have to open it themselves. Counter-protestors were also surprised with the outcome; one conservative blogger “YMedad” of Shilo wrote prematurely that Ma’an’s report was mistaken–insisting “when I left, the dirt roadblock was still in place.”

For many participants, one of the most remarkable aspects of the demonstration was an overwhelming sense of jubilant defiance. Before the demonstration, participants expressed concern about the potential for military violence, citing similarly peaceful protests in villages being brutally broken up. Yazan Azem, like many others, could scarcely contain his excitement to go work his community’s land, even though he fully expected a violent response.

“I have to go [to the protest]”, he said. “The land is our life. If I don’t go to take it, it’s like giving up my life.”

Another said, “We are defined by the land. When we come here we feel human. Zaytun [olive] is us. We are deeply rooted.”

During the demonstration, protesters’ passion was palpable in a way unique to people finding their voice. Kheer Abdul Kader, a middle-aged man who claimed to have been arrested ten times for crossing the Apartheid Wall, started by saying “talk means nothing” but, clearly excited to be present, continued, “I’m not saying there should not be the ’48 [Israel inside the 1948 boundaries]. But they should not be here. They do not have permission, like me…Why are the settlers coming here to my homeland, when I cannot be there? I just want to work on my land and do not want to go there.”

After the demonstration, the mood became celebratory—according to peace activist Arafat Mahmod, a double victory because they completed most of what they wanted to do and because “nobody got hurt.” Walking back towards the village, protestors sang songs and chanted “ash`ab yureed tahrir falasteen” (“the people demand the freeing of Palestine”), borrowed from the ongoing Egyptian revolution of Arab Spring fame.

The problems faced by Qaryut, however, are far from resolved.

Located between Ramallah and Nablus (Northern Palestine), Qaryut has long been cut off from the main arterial and its agricultural lifeblood by seven settlements, military harassment, and a earthen roadblock constructed in 2002. The settlements, the largest of which are Eli, Shilo, and Hayovel, occupy 78% of the pre-1976 village’s lands. Settlers and the Israeli government legitimize this using the Oslo Interim Agreement (which gives them military and administrative control) and the antiquated Ottoman ‘absentee property law’ (which allows the state to confiscate it under a variety of pretexts.) This land theft has had far-reaching effects for the village whose people rely on olive, almond, and other harvests for subsistence.

To make matters worse, the United Nations have documented that settlers have joined the harrassment, regularly destroying new generations of trees and sometimes attacking villagers, including children. A  young man from the village, Hasan Abdilatef, corroborated this as the norm:

“Most of the time the soldiers come and pull the [olive trees] up. But we keep coming. Maybe two or three [trees] are still up after three years.”

The blocked road, in turn, has until now severely delayed transportation of people, movement of goods, and other necessary services—typically adding on 30 minutes for the alternate route. For medical emergencies, villagers had to call two ambulances and hand off patients across the barricade. Waste disposal also has been an issue, as villagers report that access to the city dump has been barred to them—soldiers claiming there are settlers living in the area. Instead the dump has been moved to the one other accessible area, along their once-main road and the march-route—where it is burnt. Walking back to the village, another young resident of Qaryut, said that he considers this as a  kind of bio-warfare: forcing the village to improperly dispose of its own waste in toxic ways. “There is no one there,” he said; This is another way of making us leave.”

With one of their main demands met,  it is unknown what form future protests will take or whether other land and road restrictions will be loosened. Although the Israeli commander was unavailable for comment, one Israeli soldier (who did not give his name) denied that the roadblock had been maintained for political reasons, instead claiming it was there “for safety [because] it is a difficult turn [onto Highway 60].”

Forcible relocation of a population, attacks on civilians, and intentionally destroying a people’s means of sustenance are all illegal under international law.

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

A new stage for West Bank popular resistance

by Dylan Collins

28 January 2012 | The Palestine Monitor

In a hazy room, clouded with cigarette smoke and steam from hot syrup-sweat tea, residents of Kafr ad-Dik and its neighboring villages, along with Palestinian, Israeli, and international activists, excitedly gathered together waiting for the midday prayer to finish. The twenty-seventh of January marked the fourth Friday during which the village of Kafr ad-Dik has staged a nonviolent protest against the annexation of its agricultural land by the Israeli Occupation Authority (IOA).

The village of Kafr ad-Dik, and the greater Salfit District, is located on top of the largest water table in the West Bank, thus providing it with some of the most fertile land in the region. Home to generations upon generations of farmers, Kafr ad-Dik, and the neighboring villages of Rafat, Balut, and Bruqin, have had the majority of their agricultural land stripped away from them in the last ten years by the IOA. In turn unemployment and poverty rates in the farming-based community have skyrocketed.

In a village of which 99% of the inhabitants are olive farmers, the IOA’s annexation of the majority Kafr ad-Dik’s groves has been devastating.

Approximately 4,000 dunams of vital agricultural land, shared by the four villages, has been appropriated by the IOA over the past ten years. Last month, the IOA significantly increased its total of annexed land in the area when it earmarked an additional 1,000 dunums for the alleged expansion of the nearby illegal Israeli outost, Ale Zahav. Kafr ad-Dik residents, however, are convinced this latest annexation of land will be allocated to the construction of an entirely new outpost.

Left with no land to farm, and consequently no source of income, Kafr ad-Dik’s farmers have been forced to either rent out small plots from farmers who still have access to their lands in neighboring villages, or work their own land, now owned by the illegal Israeli settlements, for a paltry wage of around $13 a day.

Popular resistance, in the form of weekly nonviolent marches and demonstrations, has become increasingly commonplace in many West Bank villages since the beginning of the IOA’s construction of the Separation Wall and its subsequent seizure of Palestinian land. Villages such as Bil’in, Ni’lin and, more recently, Nabi Saleh have been the vanguard of the West Banks popular resistance movement over the last few years, with the media giving little to no focus to villages outside the spotlight.

As illegal Israeli settlements continue their unhindered expansion with impunity, robbing Palestinians of their land and livelihood on a daily basis, similar popular resistance demonstrations are popping up in villages all over the West Bank. In order for the new popular resistance efforts to be effective, it is imperative that media sources lend their ears more equitably to the growing number of villages cooperatively combating the occupation.

Nasfar Qufesh, the coordinator for the Popular Committee in the Salfit District, is insistent upon the fact that widespread, disciplined popular nonviolent resistance, represents the strongest means by which West Bank villages can resist the occupation. He says the aim of popular resistance is to, “create awareness in western countries, particularly America, of how, and for what purposes, their hard earned tax money is used.”

The Israeli Occupation Force’s (IOF) blatant use of excessive force during the weekly nonviolent protests throughout the West Bank, via mass amounts of tear gas, rubber bullets, sound grenades, and live ammunition, is an excellent example of American tax dollars hard at work.  The US furnishes Israel with over three billion dollars a year in military aid alone, most of which is made up of non-repayable grants.

Although still in its nascent stages, the popular resistance in Kafr ad-Dik is growing. Community leaders predict similar movements to fan out across West Bank villages as a main method of confronting the occupation and its confiscation of their land.

Al Jazeera: Resistance is fertile: Palestine’s eco-war

James Brownsell | Al Jazeera English

After uprooting thousands of olive trees, Israel’s latest plantation may pose a fire risk to its own citizens.

They come from across the planet and meet in the shadow of Israel’s 12m concrete wall. They strap olive saplings and water bottles to the back of a donkey, silent under its burden. Former police officers from Sweden, German punks, Australian conservationists, leftist activists from the US, South African priests, and a Celtic fringe of Welsh students join Israeli anarchists and Palestinian pacifists.

These are the guerilla gardeners of the occupied West Bank.

And it’s a growing movement, with more than 120 international volunteers arriving in Bethlehem governorate alone to assist with this year’s harvest.

“Guerilla gardening” has its roots among the Levellers and the Diggers of mid-17th Century England, but today has branches spanning the globe. From Toronto to Moscow, cabals of city-dwelling horticulturalists have sprung up in most population centres with any form of urban anarchist presence.

Seeking to “reclaim public space from its corporate governors”, these green-fingered activists plant flowers, sometimes vegetables, in waste ground under overpasses, at the side of roads and in the centres of cities where concrete has long since replaced living, breathing flora and fauna.

But in the occupied Palestinian territories, it is a slightly different story.

Here, it isn’t merely a symbolic attempt to reclaim pockets of neglected or misused terrain. Here, farmers and their band of globalist shovel-toting supporters are locked into what they see as a life-or-death struggle to resist an illegal land grab.

More than half a million olive trees have been uprooted or destroyed by Israeli civil and military forces in the past 10 years, according to the Palestinian ministry of agriculture, while the fates of hundreds of farming communities are tied to the humble plant – a tree renowned for its symbolism since before the time of Noah. The Palestinians’ largely agricultural economy has traditionally been dependent on its harvest – olive oil, soap, lamp fuel – let alone the fruit itself – as well as the olive wood Nativity carvings sold to tourists in Bethlehem’s old city – they have all been central to the Palestinian economy for hundreds of years.

But the olive tree has now found itself pitted in a battle for survival.

Farmers losing their grove

As the more-than 120 illegal Israeli settlements expand further into occupied Palestinian territory, it is Palestine’s olive farmers who often find themselves facing violence.

“When I saw them cutting down the trees I felt as if my heart was being uprooted from between my lungs,” said Izzat Abu Latifa, a farmer from Jab’a, near Bethlehem.

At 7 am on Tuesday, February 22, Abu Latifa got a phone call to tell him that Israeli troops were on his family’s farmland – adjacent to route 367, a road between illegal Israeli settlements – and were taking chainsaws to the trees.

When he arrived at the field that his family had cultivated for the past 40 years, he said he found soldiers had cut down 150 trees and were poisoning the roots.

“I planted every year as many trees as I could manage and now they come to destroy what I have been working on,” he said. “Olive trees are holy; what faith, what religion allows this to happen? How does any human being have the heart to kill trees like this?”

The commanding officer told Abu Latifa his trees had been planted on Israeli state land, despite the farmer producing the legal title deeds document.

But just a few months later, under the noses of the military – and as the watchtowers loom above – the guerilla gardeners (and their donkeys) get to work.

“We’ve planted 8,600 trees this season, a total of 69,300 since this programme began in 2001,” said Baha Hilo, coordinator of the Olive Tree Campaign at the Joint Advocacy Initiative of the East Jerusalem YMCA and the YWCA of Palestine.

Ottoman rule

There is a law dating from the Ottoman empire in 1853, says Hilo, which states that any land left uncultivated for three years reverts to state ownership. “This law was introduced to boost tax revenues – because the Ottomans wanted food producers to produce,” Hilo told Al Jazeera.

“But Israel applies the same law and blames the Ottomans in order to confiscate land within the occupied West Bank – except that the land becomes ‘property’ of the state of Israel, not the Ottoman empire.

“Our campaign is to help Palestinian farmers maintain ownership of their property – and once olive trees are planted, it is evidence that the land is being cultivated.”

The joint YMCA-YWCA project is primarily an advocacy campaign, says Hilo. “We take the stories from the ground to the sponsors of the trees,” he says.

“When a field is taken by Israel, it’s no longer just the farmer who it is being taken from, but from all the international sponsors all over the world.”

On Abu Latifa’s land, Hilo’s team of volunteers get to digging and planting.

“In another example, there is Ahmed Barguth from Al Walaja [another village on the outskirts of Bethlehem]. In June last year, the Israeli military put his family under house arrest, and then destroyed his farmland to build a road. We called up the sponsors of the trees, and a few months later, we went in with about 50 people. The Israelis had destroyed 100 trees. We came back with 300.”We got all the olive trees and we all lined up in an assembly line and we each took a pickaxe and got to work. The army kept their distance that day and there was no confrontation. We had people from Norway, Japan, the UK, Finland, the Netherlands and Italy.

Among the group were “church members, retired doctors, youth workers, teachers, retired military men”, aged between 18 and 84 years old. “Men and women, Christian, Jewish, Muslim, atheist, communist – you name it,” said Hilo.

“We’re not a militia, our weapons are our pickaxes and shovels, our hands and our olive trees.”

The ‘blessed’ tree

The tree is deemed holy, blessed by Allah, according to the Quran, and can live to be hundreds of years old. In Jerusalem’s Garden of Gethsemane, it is claimed the olive trees are the very same plants that Jesus and his followers prayed under.

“When you’re driving on brand new roads, and you come across a 500-year-old olive tree on a brand new road junction – you have to ask yourself: ‘Where did that tree come from? Has it grown there for hundreds of years, and this road just happen to come across it?’ The answer is: ‘No, of course not. This is a tree which has been taken from somewhere else – from someone else – and probably from someone whose family has been tending to these trees for generations,'” says Hilo.

When Al Jazeera contacted the Israeli government for comment, spokesperson Mark Regev denied knowledge of the use of the Ottoman law, and the Palestinian horticultural resistance campaign, saying: “I’m not aware of it.”

In the 2009 paper Uprooting identities: The regulation of olive trees in the occupied West Bank published in the Political and Legal Anthropology Review, Prof Irus Braverman uncovered some strong opinions on the subject:

“Like children, their trees look so naive, as if they can’t harm anyone. But like [their] children, several years later they turn into a ticking bomb,” Chief Inspector Kishik, of Israel’s Civil Administration, told her.

The Israeli quest to “make the desert bloom” is older than the state of Israel itself. Since the 1920s, members of the pre-Israel Zionist movement attempted to massively boost food production, to prove to the British administrators of its “Palestine mandate” that the country could provide homes to more Jewish immigrants.

Indeed, since 1901, the Jewish National Fund has planted more than 240 million trees, mostly pine, across Israel – notably in the occupied Golan Heights.

Covering up history

But the planting of European pine trees was also intended, after 1948, to cover the remains of decimated Arab villages, says Alice Gray, professor of environmental studies at Al-Quds Bard Honors College.

“The JNF’s planting campaign ensured that farmers would be unable to return to their land, as pines alter the chemistry of the soil – preventing the development of agricultural crops,” says Prof Gray.This rezoning of the land to state-owned plantation “de-legitimises” other forms of land use, such as grazing by Bedouin herds or low-tech faming by fellahin [peasants], she told Al Jazeera.

“While Israel is widely credited with being at the cutting edge of thrifty water use techniques, such as drip irrigation and wastewater treatment and reuse, and with having ‘miraculously’ greened the desert, less widely acknowledged is the fact that they destroyed the lower Jordan river system, the Dead Sea and the Coastal Aquifer while they were doing it,” said Gray.

The latest development in this struggle of eco-warfare is the planting of a 12 km strip of eucalyptus trees, at a cost estimated at 7 million shekels ($2m), along the edge of the Gaza Strip. The planting has already begun, according to the Israeli military.

“We are planting trees that will grow and provide cover,” Lieutenant Cololonel Ilan Dayan said. “A person firing an anti-tank missile needs a line of sight to the target. If he doesn’t have one, he has a serious problem.”

Jewish National Fund chairman Efi Stenzler added: “We believe that the same JNF trees that have protected Golan Heights residents from the Syrians will now protect the residents of the south.”

Major General Tal Russo, recently appointed commander of Israel’s Southern Command, said the project reminded him of his upbringing on a kibbutz. “For me this is the completion of a cycle,” he said. “I was born into the strategic security forestation in the Hula Valley, which was then used to defend from Syrian shelling. This was the first project placed on my desk as I came into this position. The project … expresses the brave connection to the communities surrounding Gaza, and allows us to upgrade our mission of defending the southern communities with environmental benefits.

“Despite Hamas’ recent efforts to challenge us, we stand strong. We are training, preparing and equipping ourselves to defend the residents of southern Israel. We will not accept the threat to [our] communities and will continue operating to preserve the peace in the south.”

The risks of introducing non-native species

But planting the non-native eucalyptus, which agriculturalists note “has a reputation for developing extensive root structures”, may pose other risks, such as lowering the water table in an already arid zone.

One other problem with planting eucalyptus trees close to communities they are intended to protect is the reported increased danger from fire. It is not necessarily that the trees themselves are explosive, per se. But, on a hot day, the vapour of the trees’ oily sap forms a highly flammable cloud. In addition, the leaf and branch litter in eucalyptus forests is drier than other trees’ litter due to the nature of the trees’ canopy preventing sunlight aiding decomposition.

Following the Sydney bushfires of January 1994, Reuters reported: “The explosive nature of the eucalyptus and the abundance of fuel produces a very intense fire that ‘crowns’ – leaps from tree top to tree top … The fierce blazes have been stoked by the highly volatile oils of the eucalyptus tree, which vaporise under intense radiative heat as the fire approaches and explode, with flames sometimes towering as high as 230 feet [70m].” [Michael Perry, “Sydney Bushfires Fuelled By Exploding Eucalyptus,” Reuters World Service, January 10, 1994]

This is no problem for the trees, it turns out. Eucalyptus trees are noted for their ability to withstand fire. Indeed, a strong fire every five years or so is understood to aid the development of a eucalyptus forest.

The same, however, cannot be said for those who have their homes near to such forests. When fire tore through the Berkeley-Oakland Hills eucalyptus groves in 1991, 24 people were killed as 3,000 homes were destroyed.

Back in Palestine, the guerilla gardeners aren’t the only grassroots green group poised to blossom in the occupied territories’ parched valleys. In addition to her classroom teaching, Professor Alice Gray also runs Bustan Qaraaqa, a permaculture-oriented agriculture project which teaches Palestinian and international volunteers innovative water management and farming techniques.

“I hope that there is a general increase in the consciousness of the connection between politics and the environment – and a realisation that we are not passive actors in all of this, that everyone has the power to take control to some extent over their relationship with the environment and start trying to interact with it constructively. Of course, we think that permaculture provides a tool-set for doing this,” says Prof Gray.

“It is also about not accepting the power-structures prescribed by the oppressors and trying to creatively circumvent them somehow – which works right up until the point that they bring the bulldozers and the big guns. This is why it is not really enough to ‘go home and garden’ – we also need the political and legal activism that will try to contain the most destructive elements of the occupation.

“All we are doing here is trying to ensure that there is a country left that is worth arguing over when all is said and done …  Whenever the hell that is.”

You can follow James Brownsell on Twitter: @JamesBrownsell