3rd November | Wafa Aludaini | Gaza, Occupied Palestine
On the 102nd anniversary of the Balfour Declaration, churches rang bells and mosques called for prayer at the same time, while tens of thousands of Palestinians entered the buffer zone this Friday between the besieged Gaza Strip and Israel in the massive weekly Great March of Return protest.
This 81st week of protests was called “Down with the Balfour Declaration!”. It marks the 102nd anniversary of the British declaration announcing support for the establishment of a “national home for the Jewish people” in Palestine. Palestinian masses now are calling on Britain to not only apologize but also rectify this major historical disregard for Palestinian self determination and statehood.
Ali Salim, 55, stated that the Balfour Declaration, in fact, is the cause and source of all the Palestinian tragedies and sufferings since then: “The 102nd anniversary means 102 years of displacement, expulsion, massacres, and ethnic cleansing of the Palestinian people.”
Khawla Khalil added, “We came here today to confirm our rights, and our rejection of Balfour! These days, we are experiencing the declaration through Trump’s Deal of the Century, when he recognized Jerusalem as the capital of Israel.”
Duaa Abdellateef — spokesperson for the Women’s Committee adjunct to the Committee for the Great Return March — said the weekly marches will continue until Palestinian rights and demands are met.
“We will defeat all the local and international conspiracies that aim at liquidating our Palestinian national cause, including the ethnic cleansing of Jerusalem, disregard of the internationally recognized right of return, and the proposed Israeli annexation of the West Bank.”
On Thursday afternoon, October 31st, mosques in Gaza called for prayers at precisely the same time local churches rang their bells, marking the 102nd anniversary of the Balfour Declaration. The public statement was intended to show all faiths in Gaza renewing their rejection of the British empire’s edict. The coordinated actions by mosques and churches across Gaza were organized by the Great Return March’s higher committee.
Wafa Aludaini is a journalist and activist in Gaza who writes a weekly column for ISM on the Great March of Return.
9th June 2014 | International Solidarity Movement, Khalil team | Iqrit, Occupied Palestine
Yesterday morning on the 8th June, Israeli police forces raided the village of Iqrit (located on the northern tip of Israel, within eyesight of Lebanon). The police uprooted trees, destroyed and confiscated all the personal belongings of Palestinian activists present in the village. Furthermore they beat and violently arrested 3 Palestinian men who were present in the village at the time. The 3 arrested are: Walla Sbait, Nidal Khoury and Jeries Khiatt. They were taken to the police station in Nahariyya, where they were kept in detention over night.
Today at 8:30 AM the three detainees were brought before the Kiryat Gat Magistrates’ Court, following a police request for an extension of their detention. The police have charged the detainees with trespassing the land owned by the ILA, obstructing the work of public officials, assaulting a public employee and endangering public order.
The court ruled that Nidal Khoury is kept in detention until Wednesday 11th of June. Walaa Sbeit and Jeries Khiatt was sentenced house arrest until Sunday 15th of June and they are not allowed to go back to Iqrit for 60 days.
As the season of Advent approached in November 1948, the Israeli military forced residents of Iqrit and the neighboring village of Kufr Bir’im —all citizens of the newly created state of Israel— to leave their homes near the northern border with Lebanon because of military operations in the area. The Israeli forces made a promise to the inhabitants, that they could return to their homes after 15 days. The people of Iqrit are still waiting. In July 1951, the Israeli High Court ruled that the people of Iqrit and Kufr Bir’im had the right to return to their homes. The military refused to comply, and on Christmas Eve 1951 blew up all houses in both villages.
Shortly thereafter, all village lands were confiscated by the state and has been rented out to the nearby Kibbutz for their cows to graze until this day. Since then, decades of demonstrations and legal appeals for the villagers’ right to return have seen a string of favorable decisions by courts and commissions that have resulted only in more broken promises and unenforced rulings.In the 1970s, the government had granted use of the cemetery —allowing only the dead to return to Iqrit after they lived and died in exile at Kufr Yasif, Rameh, Haifa or other places. The original villagers and their descendants —now around 1,500 people scattered across northern Israel— are allowed only to hold services in the church and bury their dead in the cemetery. Every first Saturday of the month there has been a mass held at the village church and every year a summer camp has been organised on the hillside. In August 2012 the third generation reclaimed their village.
Around 20 descendants from Iqrit took the initiative to begin resurrecting the village despite the village’s legal limbo. The activists make sure that the village is constantly inhabited, sleeping in tents, under the stars or in rooms attached to the church. The group consists of university students, factory and restaurant workers, and teachers.
Their attempts to construct or plant anything in the village have been met with immediate demolition by the Israeli authorities. But over time, they’ve been able to add a few amenities, including solar panels on the church roof, determined to bring back life to Iqrit.
Iqrit’s 80 homes are long gone, but the activists goal is to rebuild Iqrit for the villagers-in-exile, refusing only to return to their home in coffins, but alive. The activists have returned to the area and are discussing on how to proceed with their campaign, determined not to be intimidated by Israeli forces and their harassment
In Mapping Exile and Return: Palestinian Dispossession and a Political Theology for a Shared Future, American Mennonite theologian and aid worker Alain Epp Weaver explores a legacy of Palestinian Christian exile, and struggle for return. The book’s terrain ranges from the ethnically-cleansed villages of the Galilee to the Upper West Side of Manhattan.
Weaver focuses particularly on contending geographies: how “Palestinians have been ‘abolished from the map,’ in the words of Palestinian cartographer Salman Abu-Sitta,” and the prospect of “counter-cartographies that subvert colonialism’s map-making.”
His book encompasses the work of specialists, like Abu-Sitta’s maps, the writings of Edward Said, the Institute for Palestine Studies’ encyclopedic volume All That Remains: The Palestinian Villages Occupied and Depopulated by Israel in 1948, as well as “memory production” by thousands of Palestinians through collaborations like the web archive Palestine Remembered.
“In the face of Zionist rejection of Palestinian refugee return, international indifference, and an ineffectual and compromising Palestinian leadership for whom the refugee question is a source of irritation, Palestinian refugees pin their hopes on memory,” Weaver writes.
Significantly, he also includes extended histories of two key initiatives: the struggles for return by the ethnically-cleansed Christian villagers of Kufr Birim and Iqrit in the Galilee, and Zochrot, an Israeli organization dedicated to “remembering the Nakba in Hebrew.”
Rites of return
The residents of Kufr Birim and Iqrit, Weaver writes, “pioneered and in turn inspired activism on the part of other internally displaced persons (IDPs) inside Israel” through mass mobilizations, as well as “rites of return.”
Through the latter, ranging from personal visits to destroyed family homes to community festivals, like Iqrit’s recent Easter celebrations, villagers “carry on a dual struggle, both against the Israeli state and its institutions that deny their rights to the land and against sedentary tendencies and forgetfulness,” Weaver writes.
Later he likens Zochrot’s public mappings of ethnically-cleansed villages to “at least some practices of Palestinian refugees” as “exilic vigils.”
But at times, Weaver’s heavy-handed application of his own theology, and efforts to find its reflection in Palestinian Christianity, pose a bigger challenge.
His analysis is steeped in the writings of another American Mennonite, John Howard Yoder, popular among Catholic Workers and other Christian activists, as well as Mennonites. Like his Mennonite forebears, Yoder viewed nations and their political institutions critically.
At his most succinct, he told a 1957 Mennonite peace conference near Karlsruhe, Germany, “The state is a pagan institution in which a Christian would not normally hold a position” (John Howard Yoder, Discipleship as Political Responsibility, Scottsdale, Pennsylvania, Herald Press, 2003, p. 25).
Following Yoder’s “theology of galut [exile] as vocation,” Weaver argues for “accepting one’s exilic status, even when one is at home,” and advocates a binationalism “differentiated from the one-state solution.”
Theological cartography
His prescription bears some resemblance to the description of a “very fluid model” of “overlapping claims” in ancient Palestine offered by Hebrew Bible scholar Rachel Havrelock.
And in each case study in the book, Weaver searches “for a theological cartography of land and return in which exile and return function as potentially interpenetrating, instead of irreducibly opposed, realities.”
In his section on Edward Said, Weaver may find what he seeks. In another, he fairly claims, “Abu-Sitta’s maps can (but need not) be interpreted as escaping the statist character of most national maps.”
At a low point, Weaver reproaches recently-retired Melkite Greek Catholic Archbishop Elias Chacour, a displaced resident of Kufr Birim and noted writer as well as community leader, for a statement of Chacour’s own, fairly standard Christian belief.
“[N]ow we have a new understanding of the Chosenness,” Chacour wrote in 1999. “Who is Chosen? Man and Woman — every man and every woman — are invited to take part in the divine banquet” (“Reconciliation and Justice: Living with the Memory,” Holy Land, Hollow Jubilee: God, Justice, and the Palestinians, ed. Naim Ateek and Michael Prior (London: Melisende, 1999), p. 112).
This clear opinion “fails to do justice to Chacour’s nuance at other points in his writings,” Weaver states, before divining the position he would prefer Chacour hold instead from his choice of a Bible translation. In such passages, it becomes painfully obvious that what Weaver hopes to find is simply not there.
In 1970, black liberation theologian James H. Cone wrote that “there can be no theology of the gospel which does not arise from an oppressed community.” Theology, Cone added, “cannot be separated from the community which it represents” (James H. Cone, A Black Theology of Liberation: Fortieth Anniversary Edition, Maryknoll, New York, Orbis Books, 2010, p. 5, 9).
Divide and rule
Weaver’s account offers a testimony to both the world’s oldest Christian community’s theological response to its own oppression, and the risks of viewing its struggle through a lens that may, in another context, make perfect sense.
In Kairos Palestine’s recent Easter Alert, Hind Khoury, Sabeel’s vice-president and former Palestinian Authority minister of Jerusalem affairs and Palestine Liberation Organization ambassador to France, writes, “Each one of us is targeted in our very survival and the integrity of our community, as in the integrity of our identity and our culture. Even our memory and our future are being hijacked.”
“One of the latest such laws, for example, decreed that Palestinian Christians are not Arabs in order to further divide and rule and confuse Palestinian cohesive identity,” she added.
Palestinians facing not only occupation and exile, but also denial of their heritage and sectarian attempts to fragment it, may find belonging, identity and nationality more liberatory, for themselves and the world around them, than those of us who share Weaver’s “location within political and theological maps of power and privilege” as “descendant[s] of European immigrants who settled on land claimed by Pawnee and Cheyenne nations,” among a great many others.
And it is the commonality of Palestinian experience and destiny that politically-engaged Palestinian Christians stress, from religious figures like Greek Orthodox ArchbishopAtallah Hanna to boycott, divestment and sanctions organizer Sandra Tamari, who wrote for Mondoweiss last year: “I am uncomfortable with the identity of Palestinian Christian because — thankfully — Palestinians have not fallen into sectarian traps that divide along religious lines.”
“We must create spaces for listening to the broad spectrum of Palestinian stories,” she added. “We cannot do that by excluding the majority of Palestinians who happen to be Muslims.”
Nor, while Israel’s sectarian legislation and attempts to recruit Christians into its army, and what the Catholic Ordinaries of the Holy Land yesterday called “a wave of anti-Christian fanaticism and violence” by Israelis continue, is it likely to happen through the detachment Yoder suggested and Weaver champions.
Instead most Palestinians, regardless of faith, may find more promise in the “firm national position of the Christians in refusing to join a military that exercises violence against the rights of the Palestinian people,” expressed Friday by Archbishop Hannah and retired Latin Patriarch Michel Sabbah, and in the Easter sentiments of Sabbah’s successor, current Patriarch Fouad Twal: “We are the rightful/lawful owners, and you will hear our voice before all governments worldwide.”
21 July 2012 | International Solidarity Movement, West Bank
A short distance from Nablus one finds the community of Askar camp. What appears as a suburb or cut-off of the city, is actually a refugee camp. Established in 1964, it today houses some 6,000 people in 1 square kilometre. The inhabitants are both descendants of and those themselves that were once pushed off their lands by Israel. This year, it has been 20 years since the first solidarity funding showed up in the camp, and 10 years since the camp was devastated by the Israeli army during the second intifada.
The secretary of the Social Development Center (SDC) for children and the disabled, explains the dire situation in the camp. Most of the week, water is only available 2 hours per day. 30% of the inhabitants are unemployed and lack a real income. The camp finally established a medical clinic, but it has only one doctor for the 6,000 residents of the camp.
Some improvements have been made. Swedish workers arrived in 1992, and the following year, a three-year support package of 30,000 dollars arrived. Buildings and buses have been acquired, and international volunteers still work with the SDC.
For the residents of the camp, one fact remains. No amount of money or construction will bring a solution. The refugee camp is a temporary home for a people who were forced from their true homes. True solidarity lies in the fight for the right to return.
A teacher at the SDC showed members of the International Solidarity Movement a second attraction that the camp has to offer visitors. At the site of an old kindergarten, 7 white tombstones makes up a monument for victims of the second intifada, ensuring some of what occurred in April 2002 will not be forgotten.
The 7 tombstones include a man shot in the head by the Israeli army while going to his neighbour to ask for food, three men killed by a missile that struck their residential area, the daughter of one of the missile victims who was shot and killed, and another who was very ill and died when an ambulance coming for him was denied entrance to the camp by Israeli forces.
The Israeli military machine devastated Askar Camp during the second intifada. The road at the entrance of the camp was trafficked by tanks instead of cars. From the mountain top across the valley, Israeli forces were able to shoot directly into the camp. Many houses were razed and badly damaged. In total, Askar Camp lost 33 lives during the second intifada. Many were arrested and 50 residents remain to today in Israeli prisons.
Although much has changed since then, a resident of the camp, Naser, can still identify big problems for the refugee camp.
Medicine and equipment for care of children with disabilities is very expensive, and must go through Israel, which further complicates its arrival. There is a lack of assistance from both the United Nations Relief and Works Agency (UNRWA), and the Palestinian Authority. Both are represented in the camp, but do not offer enough to the inhabitants.
The entire camp falls under Area C, meaning it is under full Israeli civil and military control. Thus, Israeli soldiers and armed settlers are known to enter the area and harass its residents. Extremist settlers use the presence of the Tomb of Yousef as a premise to invade the area and increase their influence.
For the children of Askar camp, their minds and memories are saturated with the trauma of living under Israeli military occupation.
The Social Development Center has its own girls team in football. Naser explains how they have travelled to a number of countries in Europe to play games and meet other teams. In the end, they all return to a reality of soldiers and restrictions on movement.
While the children are able to secure a 20-day visa to visit Europe, they are not allowed to visit their own capital city, only 45 minutes away.
“Our dream is to visit Jerusalem.”
Hakim Maghribi and Alex Marley are volunteers with the International Solidarity Movement (names have been changed).