13 March 2012 | by Rune, International Solidarity Movement, West Bank
Like every Friday, on March 9th residents of Ni’lin village, west of Ramallah, went to protest the Apartheid wall, which encloses their lands and denies them of basic human rights. A part of the protest was an attempt to break a hole in the wall. Activists were met with rubber coated steel bullets, skunk water and tear gas, sometimes fired directly at the demonstrators.
Dismantling Apartheid - Click here for more photos
Rune is a volunteer with International Solidarity Movement (name has been changed).
8 March 2012 | International Solidarity Movement, West Bank
Sherinne Alaraj of the local Popular Committee stands at the site of the tunnel
Some Palestinians and Internationals gathered in the village of Al Walajeh on International Women’s Day to show solidarity to Omar and his family, especially his wife ,whose health has suffered from Israeli occupation in the small village.
Sherinne Alaraj of the local Popular Committee explained to internationals the circumstances of the family. Over a dozen individuals toured with her, learning of the family’s forced separation from their village.
The Apartheid Wall under construction in the village will leave the home of Omar and his family on the “wrong” side and separate it from the rest of the village. The Israeli military has thus constructed a “private” tunnel for the family to use in order to access their home from the village. This tunnel is being dug up at the moment, and due to the heavy rains of last week, the family home was severely flooded.
The house sits behind the dirt dug to extend the segregation barrier
This is the price the family has to pay for having refused to leave their house. When the wall is finished, they will be surrounded by 4 electric fences.
The constant harassment from the occupation forces and the construction of the wall seriously affected the health of a woman residing in the house. She had a nervous breakdown, and the stress made her lose her sight for 3 months. When asked what her biggest fear was, she responded, “The kind of men my children will grow up to be in these circumstances.”
Occupation forces and police were present, telling us we were not allowed to assemble at the home. As Al Walajeh is officially part of Jerusalem, military law does not apply here. The situation of the village is quite special, as the land was annexed to Jerusalem, but not the people, who are therefore considered as “present absentees”, staying illegally in their own houses.
Two weeks ago, 14 demolition orders were handed out, and the village counts at least 100 in total.
Ramon Garcia is a volunteer with International Solidarity Movement (name has been changed).
2 March 2012 | International Solidarity Movement, West Bank
Today we went to Bil’in, a small village 17 km from Ramallah. For decades it has been harassed by the Israeli army. When the Apartheid Wall was constructed, it separated the farmers from their land.
Seven years ago, the villagers succeeded in moving the wall a bit towards the settlements again and gained back a few meters of the land where their great grandparents already lived.
Every Friday after that, there where demonstrations organized. For my friend and I, this was our first demonstration in the West Bank.
Luckily we had a bit of an idea about what to expect because the others told us about the situation.
When we arrived in Bil’in we gathered together with the villagers and went together to the place where the demonstration was held. One of the villagers we met there had been already arrested 3 times. Still that doesn’t stop him for going on with fighting for his land and his people.
We drove through the valley, it was all so beautiful, the atmosphere relaxed, and the people loving. I almost forgot that the country is occupied, until we arrived at the Wall, with barbed wire fence to protect it.
Soldiers stood behind it with their “toys,” at least that’s the way it looked.
It all started off really quiet. There was some yelling, some hanging around at the wall but nothing more then that.
The soldiers came and were looking at us from the other side of the wall at what we were doing. A few of the Palestinian boys started throwing rocks, which obviously was purely symbolic. The soldiers were far away and wore protection.
Some of the boys tried to get through the wire to the wall. A few managed to do that and started laughing and slapt the wall a bit. It was still a very friendly protest.
My friend, Mira, and I were taking videos and pictures. At some point the soldiers started shooting teargas directed at us, who were filming. Thick clouds of smoke were surrounding us within seconds. It smelled like fire works, but more sour and very sharp. I couldn’t see anything and breathing was really difficult. My cheeks and nose were burning.
After a few minutes I was fine again. Luckily Mira was able to avoid it a bit more than I did.
After this action from the military, we pulled back and stayed a bit away. After a while we went to the group again. For half an hour the situation was again like before. Hanging out, boys throwing rocks again, and I even heard one of the boys communicating with one of the soldiers.
The short conversation ended in laughter of the soldier and a few minutes after that there came a lot of teargas again, even more than before. This time it was Mira who suffered more from the gas.
When the action ended I heard that they did shoot rubber coated steel bullets at the boys, “But probably it was meant as a warning to not 0come too close to the wall,” another protester said
Even though the whole action looks like a ritual almost, it makes me more angry than I was before. Taking away the land, using weapons towards people, children even, who have absolutely nothing. The soldiers themselves are even kids, like 17 -18 years old. Just boys fighting an old man ‘s war filled with hate already from since they were born.
How crazy is that? By far, i haven’t seen the worst yet..
We will see what the future brings Free Palestine!
Boycott Israel ( bar code beginning with ” 729″ )
14 February 2012 | International Solidarity Movement, West Bank
There is a place where a ground-level concrete line runs beside a country road through olive orchards, grape vines, blossoming almond trees, and homes—all Palestinian. This is the projected path of a new segment of Israeli Apartheid Wall through Al-Ma’sara, a small village 13 km south of Bethlehem in the Occupied Palestinian Territories. Since 2006, protesters have held weekly demonstrations opposing the Wall’s construction—which was halted in 2009, possibly due to financial constraints. But attacks on Palestinian homes and infrastructure are on the rise, and plans have been announced to renew construction in the near future. One of the few remaining obstacles to the Wall’s extension is the Taqatqa house, a private home in the path of the wall extension, that has become the target of settler attacks and vandalism. In coming weeks the people of Al-Ma’sara, together with Palestinian, International, and Israeli solidarity activists, will converge on the house to restore it and transform it into a center for resistance against the Wall and settlement land theft.
There are many things about this house that recommend it as a site of popular resistance to the next phase of Wall construction.
Located in a fertile valley, the property remains a viable agricultural space in spite of attacks, intimidation and settlement expansion. Where apricot and olive trees were once cut, the family planted grape vines and vegetables. Neighbors said that when Khader Tayatqa, late father of the building’s current owner, suffered a fatal heart attack, it was due to the stress of attacks on his land and family. Nearby lie other properties in contention, including a hill belonging to Raed Taqatqa, who has made his continued presence also into an act of resistance, in spite of determined efforts of Israeli violence to drive him off his land.
After Raed refused to sell, Israeli soldiers removed supporting rocks from beneath his caravan to build a roadblock, damaging it irreparably “by accident.” His home destroyed, Raed built a makeshift structure of cardboard and found materials, which was leveled by settlers.
Such vigilante attacks on Palestinians who resist, on the parts of settlers and Israeli soldiers both, are common—such as an attack on the village of Burin last week.
Along with a favorable location, is the building’s history. Built in 1960, before Israel captured the West Bank and lay claim to its lands, the home is ‘legal’ even under Israel’s stringent permitting system, prejudiced such that Palestinian homes are often demolished using red herring justifications for their ‘illegality.’ As long as repairs only restore and add no additions, demolition of the building cannot be legally supported by the Israeli state. There is also already a history of resistance at this site, where years of weekly demonstrations and a Land Day demonstration have impacted the Wall planning process, such that far less land would be walled off from Al-Ma’sara than from neighboring or similar communities.
House at the Seam – Click here for more photos
The most serious threat now is from settler and soldier attacks which, like those on Raed’s property, are intended to damage the building and discourage resistance. Thus far, while settlers have stolen a door, some electrical wiring and a transformer, the house needs few repairs before it can be inhabited and used for events. As long as it is inhabited, it cannot be taken by the antiquated Ottoman land laws—another tool used to rescind Palestinians’ property rights after they are driven off their land.
“This [house] is a real strong point,” says Mahmoud Zwahre, an organizer from the Popular Struggle Coordination Committee and resident of Al-Ma’sara.“Legally, if we are able to keep this house we are able to keep the land.”
The bizarre set of circumstances that have made Al-Ma’sara, a rural village of about 900, one of the front lines in the battle against Israeli expansionism are sadly familiar to most Palestinians and their international and Israeli supporters. Although the village lies roughly 10 kilometers west of the 1948 “Green Line” (the only internationally recognized ‘border’ between Israel and Palestine) the massive “Gush Etzion block” of seven Israeli settlements (pop. 60,000) lies nearby, products of Israeli’s campaign to produce illegal “facts on the ground.”
These ‘facts,’ in turn are used to justify giving the Israeli military full control of most of the village’s lands and the annexation of thousands of dunums of land via planned Wall construction.
Not only would the wall’s route cut off 3500 dunums of Palestinian lands in Al-Ma’sara and limit access to services in larger communities, but it would also cut off the village’s water access and the primary routes between Hebron, Bethlehem, and Ramallah—three of the largest cities of the West Bank.
Any one of these developments would hit Al-Ma’sara and surrounding villages hard, but together they are intolerable and demoralizing. Even though there is no barrier or construction currently underway, some Palestinian farmers have chosen to stay off lands east of the Wall’s projected path, fearful of settler and military attacks. Others, however, have decided to resist—using the Tayatqa house as a focal point.
When asked what his vision for the house is, Zwahre describes a vibrant social and information center, with Palestinian flags flying and walls painted red, green, white and black. From terraces, he imagines people sitting to drink tea and looking across olive groves and fruit orchards. Farmers avoiding their land below the settlements for fear of attacks by settlers would feel safe working on it. But, he adds, that is just his vision, and it is for all those involved in the development of the center to create it.
The Popular Committees have issued a call for supporters to join them in making this center a reality. They can be contacted at www.popularstruggle.org. Weekly protests against Wall construction are held Fridays at noon, starting from the Al-Ma’sara city center.
Aaron is a volunteer with International Solidarity Movement (name has been changed).
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).
