Tag: Settlers - Page 69 - International Solidarity Movement

Nabi Saleh: “The resistance is for our kids’ future”

By Markus Fitzgerald

15 August 2012 | International Solidarity Movement, West Bank

On the evening of July 26, social media lit up with messages from residents of the village Nabi Saleh.

“Four army jeeps and around 20 soldiers standing at the entrance” tweeted Manal Tamimi, and later, “for the third day (in a [row]) the army invading the village before eftar.”

Since late 2010, Nabi Saleh has been raided regularly by Israeli forces, and the religious month of Ramadan is no exception. The long awaited eftar meal brings relief to the fasting people. In the little village, only a 15 minute drive northwest of Ramallah, eftar often arrives with uninvited guests.

The reasons for these punitive raids must be found in late 2009 when people from Nabi Saleh and nearby villages organized to protest the occupation and the illegal settlements.

In July 2008, Inhabitants of the illegal Israeli settlement of Halamish, some 700 metres from Nabi Saleh, began using Al-qaws spring for recreational purposes. For Palestinians in the area, the spring was a vital factor in farming the dry land, as well as for cultural and recreational purposes. When settlers began renovating the site of the spring, damaging trees and property, the Palestinian owner filed several complaints to the police but was ignored.

In January 2010, Israeli authorities deemed the spring an archaeological site. Subsequently, Palestinians were prohibited access while the illegal settlers were given free access. They continued to illegally renovate the site against a civil administration order to halt construction.
Two attempts by Palestinian villages in the area to go to the Israeli High Court of Justice proved to be in vain. The only outcome was letting Palestinians return to the spring. This is hardly regarded as a victory when they are still unable to use the water that their village has relied on for so long. As well, Palestinians are still often prevented from accessing the spring, especially in groups, while settlers enjoy free access.

With health, freedom, and even life on the line, the Nabi Saleh popular protests show the Israeli authorities’ disregard for international law and human rights.

Every Friday since December 2009, a procession has been making its way from Nabi Saleh’s center square towards the stolen spring. The protest is notorious for its persistence. Confronting a powerful Israeli military force, and enduring the consequential raids and arrests is a sacrifice that many in the village are willing to take.

Bilal Tamimi, a descendent and lifelong inhabitant of Nabi Saleh and father of 4, has been participating and documenting the popular protests from the beginning.

According to Bilal Tamimi, Nabi Saleh is not only protesting to return the annexed water spring, but against Israeli occupation as a whole. Since Halamish was illegally established in 1977, it has not stopped growing and encroaching onto Palestinian lands. The land theft is either approved or ignored by Israeli authorities, denying the Palestinian population the right to their land, and contravening international law.
The nonviolent resistance is one of the most dangerous tendencies from an occupiers point of view. It is persistent and disturbs the normalized occupation, but it cannot be stopped without damaging Israel’s democratic smokescreen.

The united participation of all demographics of Palestinian society (i.e. men, women, children) as well as international and Israeli activists is an important factor in the popular protest.

Bilal’s wife, Manal Tamimi, who is herself an active protester, says there is a particular impact on Israeli soldiers when they are faced by women and children. Women make up half of the protests in Nabi Saleh, and many take leadership roles, contradicting the prejudices still haunting mainstream discourse.

Bilal points out the importance of post-demonstration media work from international and Israeli activists who join the weekly protest. Activists from various countries across the world sharing reports, pictures, and stories from Nabi Saleh has a huge impact on the fate of the village.

The Israeli army has changed its tactics in Nabi Saleh throughout the past 2 years. The brutal invasions of the village during the Friday protest drew negative attention from international media present at the demonstration. While the 10-hour Friday raids were made less brutal, there has been a considerable increase in raids on other days as well as during nights. Thus there has been an increased pressure on the residents’ lives, although most of it occurs behind the scenes and away from media.

Manal and Bilal Tamimi have experienced Israeli military violence since their childhood. Arbitrary arrests, including that of children, night raids, military violence, and systematic discrimination are only a part of what they have experienced. The last weeks are no exception.

Rather than showing the heavy military response to civilian demonstrations, most photos emerging into mainstream news from the West Bank focus on masked youths throwing stones.

Bilal Tamimi knows that stones will not change the course of history in a direct way.

“But what would you do if someone had been stealing from you the last 60 years, with absolutely no consequences except generous western support,” asks Bilal rhetorically.

At 3 a.m. on January 23 of 2011, 14-year old Islam Tamimi was seized from his bed by Israeli soldiers. The next 12 hours, he was interrogated and kept awake. Without being informed about his rights to remain silent or to demand the presence of a parent, the terrified boy may have began making up stories to satisfy the police. His unlawfully gained testimony is later used to convict members of the Nabi Saleh popular committee, Bassem and Naji Tamimi. Both face charges made by a 14-year old boy under torture-like conditions.

This incident is one of many concerning minors from Nabi Saleh. Currently, 4 boys are serving time for throwing stones.

Manal Tamimi herself was arrested in December 2009. Her son Samer Tamimi, who was 3 years old at the time, saw her beaten and dragged away by Israeli soldiers.

Many of the village residents would send their kids away each Friday during protest hours, but as it became apparent that the situation would not change, Bilal and Manal amongst others, began to bring their children to the protests.
While this decision is difficult, Manal explains how psychologists and specialists were called to the village to treat the tormented kids. Fear of the Israeli army was the primary problem.

“We had to break this wall of fear in our kids to be able to continue the struggle in the future,” she states.

“The resistance,” Bilal says, “is for our kids’ future, so they can grow up and follow their dreams, and their kids will be able to as well”

His son Osama, 16, was accepted into a school in Jerusalem, but denied entry to the city by Israeli authorities on reasons of security. An education in Ramallah was found but Bilal clearly sees the disappointment and the extinguished enthusiasm in his son’s eyes.

“This is the way to defeat a population. Stealing their dreams is far worse than breaking their bones and this we have to fight and teach our children how to fight,” says Manal.

Her youngest son Samer, 6, is also known as ‘Spider Man’ for the costume he wears to the popular protests. Samer has managed to overcome a great amount of his fears. During a night raid on the Tamimi home about 1 month ago, Samer woke up, recognized the angry men in green, and casually returned to sleep as they ransacked his house. A clear indication that the next generation will not give in to the pressure.

Nabi Saleh is a village of only 600 people. This means a great sense of unity.

“We cry together, smile together, celebrate together, suffer together, and die together,” says Manal.

When Mustafa Tamimi was shot dead by the Israeli military last December, the funeral turned into a massive outcry for justice. The 2000 some members of the funeral were tear-gassed by the same grenades which killed Mustafa just two days earlier. Several Palestinian women were beaten by soldiers and arrests were made.

The Israeli occupation is omnipresent across Palestine, entering the private lives of all Palestinians. The last person to be killed has not yet been killed. The last illegal settlement has not yet been built. Nabi Saleh’s fresh water spring has become a memory and a dream.

Yet facing armies, still ‘Spider Man’ smiles at one of his toughest quests.

Markus Fitzgerald is a volunteer with the International Solidarity Movement (name has been changed).

Hebron: settler illegally enters Palestinian home

By Lucy Diamond

9 August 2012 | International Solidarity Movement, West Bank

On the evening of August 2, an Israeli settler illegally entered a Palestinian home in Hebron, drawing the presence of the Israeli army which encouraged her to leave. Rather than face any consequences, the settler left the scene and a Palestinian man was arbitrarily arrested.

Hebron: Palestinian man detained — A Palestinian man is detained at Checkpoint 56 | Flora Alnur

Around 9:45 p.m., an illegal Israeli settler stopped her car in front of Checkpoint 56, one of the barriers between H1 area (Palestinian-controlled) and H2 area (Israeli-controlled) in Hebron. Immediately after, the woman forcefully entered a Palestinian home. Israeli soldiers intervened and took the woman outdoors, urging her to leave.

Hebron is a Palestinian city, but several illegal Israeli settlements have occupied both the center town and surrounding areas. The settlers enjoy a series of benefits, such as the exclusive right of driving in H2, or the wide dismissal of complaints of violence from them. When settlers illegally occupied a downtown area of Hebron, rather than comply by international law, the Israeli government supported the theft by closing the central commercial street to Palestinian access. Palestinian shops were closed and people forced by circumstance from their homes as a result of the illegal settlement.

Hebron: Soldiers crowd around detained man — Several Israeli soldiers crowd around a detained Palestinian man | Flora Alnur

Before the settler left the scene, she aimed a camera against the faces of all people present. While Israeli soldiers remained impassive, a Palestinian man raised his hand to the camera to hide his image. At this moment, soldiers chose to intervene and stop the man, Sami Abo Rumeli, from raising his hand to the settler’s camera. Soldiers detained Sami and demanded his documents, simultaneously allowing the settler woman to leave without consequences to her actions.

International Solidarity Movement (ISM) volunteers and other Palestinians were present and documented the happening with photos and videos. Soldiers unsuccessfully tried to turn them away.

This unequal treatment of the settler who forced her way into a home, and Sami who attempted only to hide his face from her camera, caused a controversial reaction. Many people arrived to observe and document the event, causing several soldiers to group. Some 13 soldiers were surrounding Sami as he was detained. Eventually Sami was handcuffed and taken away. Before being released later that night, he suffered hits and mistreatment in the soldiers’ hands.

Video taken depicts the moment when Sami Abo Rumeli is surrounded by soldiers, to be detained without reason.

Lucy Diamond and Flora Alnur are volunteers with the International Solidarity Movement (names have been changed).

Asira al-Qibliya: terrorizing settler attacks

By Saffron

6 August 2012 | International Solidarity Movement, West Bank

Armed Israeli settlers reinforced by the Israeli military regularly assault the villagers if Asira al-Qibliya. The settlers come from nearby colonies built in violation of International law, raid Asira al-Qibliya, throw stones, and shoot live ammunition.

The illegal settlers often enter Asira al-Qibliya, scream and knock on doors and windows simply for the psychological terror impact it has on the residents. At the same time, wheat and farmland is burned, olive trees are uprooted, and vital farmland is annexed by the illegal Israeli settlement of Yitzhar, making it difficult for Palestinians to secure a livelihood.

These threats have become a part of daily life in Asira al-Qibliya, a village located in the northern West Bank.

“A culture of fear.” This is how Nabila Saleh, a resident of the village, sees it.

“I never sleep more than a couple of hours each night. I jump at every sound,” says Nabila, “that is the way it is. Everybody fears a settler attack, even if they have not yet been attacked directly themselves.”

Nabila sits in her living room. Instead of glass panes in the windows are metal grids. This is the physical memory of a settler attack in November of last year, when settlers broke the windows of the Saleh’s and their neighbours’ homes, and the Israeli army followed by shooting tear-gas directly into the houses.

As she talks, Nabila’s children curiously creep into the living room. The youngest is especially shy. Nabila explains how the children of the village tend to be afraid of strangers. Many parents are afraid of letting their children go out and play, says Nabila. On Saturdays, the day of the Jewish Sabbath, when settler attacks are most likely to occur, hardly anyone dares to go out at all.

As Nabila is talking, she is suddenly interrupted by a whistling sound. The children immediately react by crying, “Jesh! Jesh!” – “Soldiers! Soldiers!”

Asira al-Qibliya has developed its own alarm system: when soldiers appear, the villagers warn each other by whistling. Nabila says she will instinctively jump at the sound of a whistle, even while doing her shopping in the city.

From Nabila’s roof, an Israeli military jeep and a group of soldiers are visible on a nearby hill where Yitzhar colony is located. Whistles and shouts of “jesh!” resound through the village.

The appearance of soldiers has become a prelude to a settler attack. Settlers do not attack or even enter the village alone. They arrive in groups and are often escorted by the military.

This time, it is a false alarm. After a while, the soldiers withdraw to a military base in the settlement. Asira al-Qibliya breathes a sigh of relief. But it is a short respite.

One of Nabila’s neighbours explained how only 15 meters from his family’s front door, a 22 year-old resident, Nimer Asaira, was shot in the head by a settler during an attack only one month ago. Miraculously, the young man survived, but lost his hearing. During the attack, the armed settlers were protected by the army.

The 20 year-old son of this neighbouring house witnessed the shooting, and helped to carry away Nimer as he bled. Since then, the young man has been sleepwalking. He has been in touch with a representative from Doctors Without Borders, who diagnosed the sleepwalking as a symptom of trauma and insisted that he be treated in Tel Aviv, where he is now receiving therapy.

“Of course, that is good for my son,” says his father, “but still, he is only one person. The entire village is traumatized.”

Altogether, the Yitzhar colony has annexed one third of the land belonging to the villages south of Nablus. Approximately 2 years ago, 50 dunums of the area Khusfe, farmland stretching from Asira al-Qibliya to the Huwara checkpoint, was annexed, burnt, and cleared by Yitzhar settlers.

Two times, villagers replanted their land, but the third time, the Israeli army declared the area a Closed Military Zone (CMZ), and prohibited the villagers from entering their land. The fields are still a CMZ, but now Israeli settlement buildings have been erected on them.

“I am very afraid,” says Khadra Abdelkarim, another resident of Asira al-Qibliya, “and my 6 children are very afraid. It is hard for them to focus in school.”

She recounts a recent nighttime settler attack, wherein a group of settlers knocked on doors and attack whoever would answer with pepper spray.

Khadra’s husband sums up the different rationales of the settler attacks. The settlers come to burn wheat and uproot olive trees in order to destroy livelihoods. They come on the occasion of Jewish holidays, the annual ones as well as the weekly sabbath. They come for retaliatory ‘price-tag’ attacks: if a settler is attacked or threatened anywhere in the occupied West Bank, or if the state of Israel is reconsidering settlement policy, Palestinian villages are forced to pay the price. Most importantly, they come to create unease among the Palestinian villagers.

“To disturb the peace,” says Khadra.

“So show me the meaning of the peace process? The more peaceful we are, the worse we get attacked. Everything has gotten worse since Oslo. If this development continues, the settlers will be in my bedroom within a year.”

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

Hebron: Palestinian streets closed for Israeli settlers

By Jonas Ravn

6 August 2012 | International Solidarity Movement, West Bank

In Hebron on the evening of July 29, almost 100 Israeli settlers from the illegal settlements occupying the centre of the city crossed into the Palestinian-controlled area H1. The settlers illegally entered H1 supported by a heavy Israeli military presence.

Earlier that evening, 4 Israeli military vehicles were witnessed driving through H1 area. At the same time, some 60 Israeli settlers gathered at Checkpoint 56 which marks the border between H1and H2 (the Israeli-controlled areas of Hebron). Several of the settlers, besides being armed with assault rifles, were also carrying compact tables and large bags of food.

Shortly before 7 p.m., Checkpoint 56 was closed to all Palestinians. Soon after, the Israeli military escorted the settlers through the checkpoint into the Bab al-Zawiyeh neighbourhood of area H1.

After the group of settlers passed through, Checkpoint 56 was reopened to Palestinians but the streets of Bab al-Zawiyeh were closed to Palestinian pedestrians and cars who were told to use a parallel street. The 4 military vehicles seen earlier were now parked and soldiers forced Palestinian shops to close down. Thus the otherwise lively Bab al-Zawiyeh was almost deserted.

The Israeli brigade commander declared that the street was a Closed Military Zone (CMZ), and when

asked for the CMZ paper permit he replied,“this is a Closed Military Zone because I say so.” The same commander pushed several International Solidarity Movement volunteers in the chest for their inquiries.

Several Palestinians attempted to enter to their homes in H2, as they regularly would, but were aggressively refused at the checkpoint and directed to a lengthy detour. The detour is made kilometres longer by the fact that Palestinians are denied access to Shuhada street.

At 7:30 p.m., just before eftar when most Palestinians would be breaking the day’s fast, a group of about 30 settlers gathered at Checkpoint 56. A short while later, this group was escorted down the closed-off street to join the other settlers now numbering almost 100.

20 minutes later, a group of 20 settlers returned back towards H2. As they passed the empty square of Bab al-Zawiyeh they clapped their hands and started chanting in Hebrew, celebrating the empty Palestinian streets. Several pointed, laughed, and made rude gestures at the few Palestinians remaining on the edges of the street.

At around 8:30 p.m., the settlers returned to H2 in smaller groups and escorted by soldiers. Again they pointed, laughed, and took photos of Palestinians they passed. At 9 p.m., the last soldiers packed up and left the area. Immediately, shops reopened and Palestinians returned to the streets. Slowly, Bab al-Zawiyeh began to look like itself again.

More than 50 soldiers and almost 100 illegal Israeli settlers were participating in what is a yearly event. Annually, dinner is had at a site in Bab al-Zawiyeh which they consider a sacred place in Judaism. In practice, this dinner serves as an aggressive reminder of who is in charge. That Israel with more than 4000 soldiers stationed in Hebron, can do as they please despite what the lawful agreements may dictate.

It is noteworthy that this occurred in a week that has been rampant with military night raids, harassment and abuse against Palestinian residents of Hebron who are celebrating the month of Ramadan.

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

Sheikh Jarrah: ‘My Neighbourhood’

By Patrick Keddie

4 August 2012 | International Solidarity Movement

The Israeli authorities’ attempts to ethnically displace Palestinians from East Jerusalem have intensified greatly in recent years; in some areas, such as Sheikh Jarrah, eviction notices have been handed out to nearly every Palestinian family. My Neighbourhood, a recent short documentary film produced by Just Vision, examines the struggles against mass Palestinian eviction and asks important questions of how to resist.

The film focuses on Sheikh Jarrah, an area less than 5 minutes’ walk from the opulent American Colony Hotel (favourite haunt of foreign journalists, NGO workers and politicians). The main protagonist is Mohammed El Kurd, an ebullient and thoughtful Palestinian teenager who experiences the trauma of partial eviction, as half of his house taken over by Israeli settlers.

In August 2009, Mohammed’s neighbours were evicted by Israeli settlers, supported by the Israeli authorities, who broke down the doors and smashed windows to force out the distraught Palestinian family living there. Mohammed remembers “a lot of policemen, a lot of angry faces.” The house is now garlanded in Israeli flags and rigged with Closed Circuit Television cameras.

In My Neighbourhood, a spokesperson for the Sheik Jarrah Settlers Group declares that evictions are justified because the Bible decrees that the area belongs to Jews. Angry settlers are shown descending on the area after Shabbat prayers, some brandishing automatic weapons and chanting, “in blood, in fire, we will kick out the Arabs.”

In November 2009, a group of settlers forcibly claimed half of Mohammed’s house – an extension built by the family without permission (it is almost impossible for Palestinians to acquire building permits in Jerusalem under Israeli law). Three young settlers, rotating in three month shifts, have since occupied the front half of the house, whilst the 13 members of the El Kurd family live in the back. Inevitably, this bizarre situation causes huge tension and resentment. The El Kurd family are subject to regular provocation and harassment, whilst their attempts to reclaim the rest of their house have failed.

Like many others in the neighbourhood, Mohammed’s family arrived as refugees. The El Kurds moved into the house in 1956 after being forced out of Haifa during the 1948 Nakba. The attempt to evict them from their current house would be a second ethnic displacement. Palestinians in Jerusalem endure a precarious existence under Israeli law; they are not recognized as Israeli citizens and can be stripped of their residency at any moment, with little recourse to the law. If the family is evicted they will likely be forced to move to the West Bank and prevented from returning.

A protest movement against the Israeli settlements in Sheikh Jarrah quickly grew, partly organized by Israeli peace activists. My Neighbourhood features Zvi and Sara Benninga, young leftist Israeli activists, who are at the forefront of organizing solidarity protests in Sheikh Jarrah. The protests against the evictions initially attract 20 to 30 people and eventually culminate in a rally of around 3000 protesters. Over the course of two years, Mohammed overcomes his initial scepticism and forges strong relationships with the Israeli activists.

By 2011, an uneasy stalemate has been reached. Settlers still occupy half of the El Kurd’s house but the protests have helped prevent any further evictions from taking place in the neighbourhood. Zvi Benninga argues that “Sheikh Jarrah elicits hope.”

However, in a talk after a screening of the film at Amnesty International, co-director Julia Bacha said that the achievement should be seen in context, “It’s a pause” she said, “nowhere near a victory. Literally, Mohammed could be evicted tomorrow from his house.”

Mohammed states his ambition to become a human rights lawyer to “use the law to evict them.” However, whilst international law condemns the occupation and the attempts to forcibly create settlements in occupied territory, Israeli law is systematically designed to facilitate occupation.

Settlers have found or forged deeds from the Ottoman era, purporting to show that the area used to be occupied by Jewish inhabitants; under Israeli law, this can facilitate the eviction of Palestinian properties. It seems a wider challenge to the law and the structure of occupation itself is required.

How to resist in the battle for Sheikh Jarrah?

My Neighbourhood is only 25 minutes long and therefore inevitably lacks detail and some wider context. There is little mention of the wider struggle across Jerusalem against Zionist colonization, such as the eviction of Palestinians in Silwan, the Old City, and Beit Hanina.

However, it is an assured film and offers a lucid critique of Israeli occupation. It is a useful and direct resource that can be shown in schools, colleges and workplaces to educate and inspire. The violence, injustice, and cruelty shown in the film generate a raw, visceral sense of outrage, whilst the relationships formed between Palestinians and liberal Israelis are encouraging. However, My Neighbourhood is also useful as it provokes fundamental questions about how to resist.

The Brazilian co-director Julia Bacha is perhaps best known for the 2009 documentary Budrus, which followed the successful attempts of a West Bank village to resist the building of Israel’s separation wall on their land. Budrus showed how disciplined, strategic, and forceful non-violent resistance can succeed and the film serves as a model for challenging the terms of the Israeli occupation.

In contrast, My Neighbourhood is a snapshot of popular protest, which stops short of non-violent direct action. The protests at Sheikh Jarrah offer a limited methodology for challenging the underlying effects of the occupation and suggest that more is needed to resist occupation of East Jerusalem and to actively re-gain the rest of the El Kurd’s house.

When I was in Sheikh Jarrah in late 2011, a sense of drift and aimlessness had descended on the neighbourhood. There was much talk of needing to re-vitalise the protest movement to actively force concessions from the settlers and the Israeli authorities, rather than just holding the authorities back enough to maintain the unhappy status quo. In My Neighbourhood, Mohammed laments that the family now says, “if we regain the house, rather than when”. Not only is the status quo undesirable, it is also fragile; the Netanyahu government and the right-wing local authorities are fiercely committed to extending the settlements and millions of dollars are flooding in to the area to finance settlement construction.

Bacha argues that the first Palestinian intifada, which was overwhelmingly characterized by non-violent direct action, was successful as it forced the Israelis to negotiate. The uprising ended when the negotiations began and it was these actual agreements made during the Oslo Accords in 1993 that were unsuccessful and led to the strengthening of the Israeli occupation.

In the current struggle of attrition in neighbourhoods like Sheikh Jarrah, Israel is gradually eroding the Palestinian presence in East Jerusalem and thus ending any hope for justice and reconciliation. Bacha suggests that mass, direct non-violent resistance on an intifada scale is what is needed to destabilise the structures of law and occupation that facilitate ethnic displacement in East Jerusalem. And that it should not stop until it achieves its aims.