On beauty in Al-Khalil

February 2019 | International Solidarity Movement, Al-Khalil team | Hebron, occupied Palestine

The Old City, Al-Khalil, occupied Palestine
The Old City, Al-Khalil, occupied Palestine

I have spent about 30 days in Al-Khalil this year. A short stay by ISM standards, and nothing compared to the tens of thousands of people who call this place home. Despite this, I already feel that the city has got under my skin. The beauty of Al-Khalil creeps up on you. First impressions can be rough; the soldiers, the police, the armed settlers, the wire and halogen lamp monsters that are the checkpoints, but after a while you begin to see it. The limestone brickwork glowing in the sunlight, the echoes of conversation that bounce up and down the tunnels of the old city souk. It creeps out and makes itself visible. The more you look for it, the more you see. Places have energy and tell stories, but these places would be nothing without the people.

Boys with horse at Salaymeh
The occupation: horses hate it too!

Above all else it has been the people of Al-Khalil that have made this place beautiful for me. The smiles as warm as the sun on the buildings, the shouts of “welcome!”, “ahlan wah sahlan!” and the endless offers of coffee make it hard to go anywhere fast, but they make your heart sing. Some people call Ireland the land of a hundred thousand welcomes, but I think that Palestine is more deserving of that title. There is so much beauty in the warmth and openness of the people here, but there is beauty in the daily acts of resistance against the occupation too.

There is a deep and dignified beauty in the story of Abdulraouf Al-Mohtaseb, an Al-Khalil shopkeeper who refused to sell his shop and family home to settlers, even when offered 100 million US Dollars. There is a beauty in the fact that day in, day out he opens his shop, right in plain sight of settlers & border police and greets everybody with warmth and respect.

A man watches the sunset from his roof in Qeitun
A man watches the sunset from his roof in Qeitun

There is beauty in the actions of the Principal of Qurtoba School, as she arrives early every day, walking defiantly down Shuhada Street and making sure that every one of her pupils gets to school safely.

There is beauty in the fact that Leila, a member of the Palestinian Women’s Embroidery Co-operative, keeps her shop open every Saturday when her street is invaded by occupation forces and extremist settlers. Shop keepers, local activists and internationals all band together; cooperating to ensure that no violence is enacted against the residents of the old city during this time.

Palestinian children watch as tear gas floods the streets of Qeitun outside of their school
Palestinian children watch as tear gas floods the streets of Qeitun outside of their school

There is beauty in the fact that whenever an act of harassment, oppression, or injustice occurs in H2, there is a good chance that Imad Abu Shamsiyya, or one of his comrades in Hebron Human Rights Defenders will have trained their camera lens on the perpetrator and victim. Despite violence against them and threats on their lives, these activists fearlessly capture the violence and oppression that the Israeli state tries so hard to hide.

Palestinians marching towards a gate that closes off Shuhada Street, Feb 22, 2019
Palestinians marching towards a gate that closes off Shuhada Street, Feb 22, 2019

Finally, there is beauty in the bravery, rage and defiance of the Palestinian youth who turn up to defend their communities from the regular Israeli army invasions of Al-Khalil. Say what you want about tactics of resistance, definitions of non-violence, pacifism. Seeing boys no older than 15 face down an attack from one of the most advanced armies in the world, armed with nothing but stones, their experiences and courage is a beautiful sight. It’s a sign of the future and reminder to the oppressor that resistance is woven into the fabric of life here in Al-Khalil.

I don’t want to romanticise the oppression of the occupation, or try to paint a picture of it through rose-tinted glasses. However, places like Al-Khalil usually only grab international attention when an injustice or an atrocity occurs. Yes, they occur regularly, but there is so much more to this place than violence and oppression.

Come to Al-Khalil and look for the beauty. Before long you will begin to see it everywhere. Come to Al-Khalil to work with all its wonderful residents to build a world in which they can direct their creative energy at something better than an occupying force.

Come to Al-Khalil to end the occupation.

Soldier uses stun grenade on school children at Salaymeh

February 24, 2019 | International Solidarity Movement, Al-Khalil team | Al-Khalil, occupied Palestine

ISM were monitoring the checkpoint at Salaymeh this morning when they witnessed a soldier throwing a concussion grenade at children on the H1 side of the checkpoint.

Soldier throwing concussion grenade at children

This morning the ISM team in Al-Khalil were monitoring the checkpoint at Salaymeh.

Infamous illegal settler Ofer Yohana (עופר אוחנה) arrived around 7.20am, greeting the soldiers warmly and began conversing in Hebrew while looking in the direction of the activists. He then began to film and harass activists, insinuating that they were pedophiles for greeting the students on their way to school.

After 15 minutes of harassing activists, Ofer then turned his attention to the children on the H1 side of the checkpoint. He stood directly in front of the checkpoint on the H2 side so as to antagonize the children on their way to school. He began to film the children on the H1 side, provoking a reaction from them.

Some children threw stones in Ofer’s direction after 5 minutes of him filming them. This in turn caused a soldier to leave his post without wearing his helmet and move round to the H2 side of the checkpoint so he could toss a concussion grenade in the childrens’ direction. We captured the incident on video here:

The children then scattered in different directions with several of the younger girls screaming when the concussion grenade exploded. Thankfully none of the children were hurt by the grenade exploding, although some were left visibly shaken, with some children standing close to activists not wanting to cross the checkpoint.

He then returned to his vehicle and departed after 30 minutes of bullying children and harassing activists.

“If you don’t leave this house, I will slaughter your children”

17th February 2019 | International Solidarity Movement, Al-Khalil team | Hebron, occupied Palestine

UPDATE: Child arrested after settler death threats. Link here.

On the night of February 16, ISM activists joined a number of local Protection Unit activists to go on a night patrol of the old city in Al Khalil. During the night patrol, we were brought into the home of of a family who have recently experienced intimidation and aggressive harassment from illegal settlers and the military.

Our hosts described to us how settlers, including prominent Hebron settlement spokesperson Noam Arnon invaded the family home by climbing down the stairs from their rooftop, accompanied by the Israeli army. Our host described how, in the presence of the army, Noam Arnon threatened that he would murder the entire family who lived in the house if they did not submit to the demands of the settlers and give up their home. This disgusting threat was allegedly made by the man who is often portrayed as a man of peace, and a reasonable voice in the settler community. Our host went on to describe how Anat Cohen, another prominent settler in Al Khalil, was watching this interaction from a nearby home, encouraging the soldiers and settlers to kill the homeowners. Also among the mob was Baruch Marzel (ברוך מרזל), the extreme right-wing politician and previous spokesperson of the Kach organisation – a party outlawed in Israel and the US as a terrorist organization. In 2000 Marzel organized a party at the shrine of Baruch Goldstein, the Israeli terrorist who murdered 29 Palestinians in the Ibrahim mosque, to celebrate the massacre.

Nighttime invasions of homes by the military are common throughout occupied Palestine. However, instances like this shine a light on the inner workings of the occupation. The event described above is the occupation in a microcosm: one of the world’s most technologically advanced armies, acting on behalf of a group of extremists with an agenda of ethnic cleansing. There is no justice in an occupation.

Insidious colonial strategy

7th December 2018 | International Solidarity Movement, Nablus Team | Deir Samaan, Salfit, occupied Palestine

In the area of Salfit, harassment by settlers is a regular occurrence. They come to the villages, often late at night, to graffiti messages of hatred, and also vandalize cars and property. New settlements are being established frequently and are rapidly expanding.

Farris is a university teacher living in the village of Kufr al-Dik.  He drove us to his land of Deir Samaan, a beautiful olive grove with panoramic views, and a complex of Roman ruins at it’s heart. It’s only a stone’s throw from his village, but we had to drive 15 minutes extra, as the occupation’s gate to the village’s main entrance has been closed for three weeks. This is a common practice of collective punishment inflicted by the army. Farris and the rest of the village were perplexed as to why they were being “punished” just now.

Up until now, it’s still possible to access Farris’ land, but one must pass the brand new constructions of Leshem, and an array of JCBs and cranes.  Leshem appeared in 2010, and now hugs the west edge of Deir Saaman.  It is the newest of many illegal settlements that now surround him.  This year a further 1200 units were added.

Leshem, 1200 units built this year

 

“Leshem means Holy Rock in Hebrew.  I think they used this name because I have a Roman castle on my land.  They used bombs, a lot of bulldozers, and a lot of time to build Leshem.  Construction has been constant since 2010 until now, and I suffer for this.  There is a lot of dust because of this, so during the olive harvest I cannot collect the olives until the rain comes.”

 

Alei Zahhav intrusively overlooking the ruins of Farris’ land

Alei Zahhav, a settlement on the East side of Farris’ property, was established in 1983.  It has now joined up with Leshem to the North, creating a large crescent of houses that have eaten into his land.  “On the other side of the settlement, I have another piece of land with 300 olive trees.  Now, because of the new constructions, I cannot come to my land because the road was closed.  I need to go around the whole valley, and then more than 3km off road, through the valley, which is very bad for the car.  So a lot of time is wasted and I have to get a tractor which is expensive.”

 

Alei Zahhav pinching the border of Farris’ land

He tells us that another huge impact from the Alei Zahhav settlement is the emptying of its sewage directly into the fields, which runs down the valley into his land.  “Aside from being disgusting and affecting the trees, it is attracting many wild boars which are destroying everything I plant.”

In the midst of the interview a Settler nonchalantly strolled through the middle of Farris’ private property.  Farris tells us that many of the ornately carved Roman stones have been destroyed by settlers. They often enter, vandalize the ruin, and also swim in his well occasionally.

The crescent has now expanded around to the South side of the property, with a new double fence, only a few weeks old, completely surrounding him. He was recently notified that he’ll soon be locked out from his olive trees and will have to obtain permission from the Israeli military to pass through. Based on previous cases, it’s likely he’ll only get permission for a few days a year to harvest olives.

“I opened a new agricultural road to come to my land because they destroyed the previous one. Now they’ve constructed a fence, which means that I will need a permit to come to my land. I have here 170 olive trees, and I recently planted 200 trees of other kinds. The restrictions mean these will be destroyed.”

Double fence recently installed

“Israel is annexing everything from the green line to the Jordan Valley. That is a big finger which cuts across the middle of the West Bank” he explains.

It’s clear that the settlements are being strategically planned and positioned.

Another settlement, Shalem to the south

“If you go to the high mountain and look around, to the West you will see Kafr Qasim, that’s the green line. From there the Israelis put settlements as a finger in the middle of the West Bank. All the mountains in that line have settlements on top, and they’re near to each other. If there is an Israeli city in the middle of the west bank there is no state of Palestine.”

The progression of annexation and dividing of the West bank

There are now 24 settlements in the Salfit area and only 18 Palestinian villages. Ariel, at the top of the valley from Farris’ land, with a population of around 20,000 is one of the largest settlements in the West Bank. “They want to make Ariel a city, all the settlements you can see refer to Ariel”.

Just bellow Ariel is a huge Israeli industrial area called Barkan. Palestinians have suffocating restrictions on what they can build. For example, they are prohibited from building industrial facilities. Whereas Israel has managed to flaunt International laws, and even Israeli laws, to establish these massive industrial zones, thus giving Israel evermore control over the region, and the Palestinian natives.

Barkan employs many Palestinians. At a time when unemployment is very high in the West Bank, the Palestinians take the work out of necessity, receiving much lower wages than their Israeli colleagues. Working for your illegal occupier is beyond humiliating, and gives rise to intense frustration. It’s not surprising that this forces people over the edge at times.

For land owners there is not always a choice. The accumulated obstructions and violent interventions take away the capacity to earn a living, forcing younger generations into accepting the low wages at Barkan. Traditional ways of village life are eroded, land is left untended, and therefore open to settler land-grabbing, as per Israeli law, and against international law. The objective is obvious, frustrate the occupants into leaving, or act out so as to be thrown into prison or worse, leaving the land empty.

Sewage and waste from all settlements, and the Barkan industrial complex, is emptied on to the fields of Palestinian farmers. This is causing a big loss of income, there are also significant cancer clusters within the villages of the valley below.

“I hope the Israeli people change their government because their government are terrorists to the Palestinian people. They don’t want peace, they lie all the time saying they do want peace, they lie about everything. They lie just to make the people keep wanting them. If the government wanted peace it would take ten minutes to do, we can start with 1967, but the Israeli government wants to take all of the land.”

Welcome to At-Tuwani

It was 7am when we woke up after a night under the stars, in the village of At-Tuwani, surrounded by arid hills and olive groves. It’s the kind of place you’d want to sightsee, or drink tea with the locals, admire the work of weaving and embroidery by the women of the village. But few people still come here. In the 80’s Israeli settlers took up residence on a hill opposite At-Tuwani, and the years that have followed have been a living hell for the inhabitants.

The night before, we were accompanied by Bilal and Mahmoud, two young people who grew up coping with the violence of settlers, and Israeli soldiers. From Mahmoud’s house we observed the hill of the settlers. He told us that he’s already been in prison, just like Bilal; his house attacked, his olive trees cut. A few days before we arrived, we learned that his brother was nearly killed by a settler. In this village no one ever really sleeps. Phones are on at all times, the inhabitants always ready to rush out of bed in order to defend their village. To defend the village is to defend their herds from mutilation, their houses from destruction, and their culture from erasure. Most importanly, they are defending their right to live on the land they have occupied for centuries.

 

The night of the sky was clear and we saw shooting stars succeed one another, but it was not stars we had our eyes on, but the hill, where torches blazed between the trees facing us. Mahmoud shined his light on the trees, and silhouettes appeared before us- they were settlers, of course. “They won’t come near as long as we watch them” he told us, “Although armed, they can be quite cowardly.”

Shaking our torches is a way of showing our presence to settlers, to let them know we are awake, and watching. Because of our presence, when Bilal returned home, he was able to go straight to bed. For reasons such as this, the presence of internationals is important for the inhabitants. Recently, an Italian organization that were active in the village for some time had just left because of a lack of resources. Bilal is obviously tired, and I could tell that he wanted us to stay for several more days.

As we waited on Mahmoud’s roof, wrapped in blankets, I asked Mahmoud how the settlers are able to play, what seems to be almost a game every night, without tiring. “They do not work,” he answers, “they can sleep during the day because they receive a salary from the Israeli state.” The daily life of the inhabitants of this village seems to be so unbearable, and I can not help but admire the likes of Mahmoud and Bilal- the strength they have to endure. Of course, he has been resisting since he was born, and probably will for the rest of his life.

As footsteps startled us, silhouettes appeared again, this time approaching the house. When my heart began to beat faster, I thought to myself this must be only an ounce of what they experience here.

However, it was soldiers, not settlers, that appeared. Oddly, we are relieved. The truth is that they aren’t as dangerous as the colonists. Their presence is supposedly for protection; for both the Palestinians and the settlers, despite reports that settlers and soldiers collude, even to kill inhabitants at times. “Why are you up there?” One of the soldiers had asked us. Mahmoud answered in Hebrew (which he learned in prison) that he had the right to be on his roof, that he’s watching over his olive field for the settlers. “We’re here, do not worry,” the a soldier replies. After leaving, Mahmoud explained that they came to find out how many of us there were in order to report to the settlers. “We can not trust them.”

After some time, it became clear that the settlers were going to hold off their assault that night, and Mahmoud was finally able to go to bed as well. The next morning we had to wake up early to accompany children to school. It’s the Israeli army’s duty to protect these children from similar attacks, but if they complied with that assignment, our presence would not be necessary.

This is Palestine.