The Cows of Beit Sahour

Beit Sahour, the town where I live, is famous throughout Palestine for its fierce devotion to independence and amazing use of nonviolence during the first intifada.  Beit Sahour launched  community wide tax strike in protest of the occupation, for which residents suffered greatly.  But more impressively, Beit Sahour managed to boycott every Israeli product on the market.  Under the Israeli military occupation, the economy of Palestine has been fiercly subjected and Palestinians, once extremely successful farmers, have become dependent on Israeli goods.  But during the first intifada, Palestinians organized victory gardens and were able to feed themselves, even during long months of 24-hour curfew.  In Beit Sahour, the boycott was successful.  Sahouris met all of their needs without relying on Israeli good.  All of their needs, that is, except milk.  That's where the cows of Beit Sahour come in.  Here's my friend Helen to tell the story. 

During the first intifada the people of Beit Sahour wanted to become independent and self-sufficient. They withheld taxes from the Israeli government and wanted to grow their own vegetables, bake their own bread … and milk their own cows.  However they wanted to do it in such a way that irritated the Israeli military. They organised courses in horticulture and the wealthier activists bought 18 cows

Imagine, a group of middle class men that have no experience of livestock arriving in a field in the middle of night with a trailer full of cows. They knew nothing about cows, not even how to get them out of the trailer. After asking the cows politely to please come out someone decided to bang on the side. The cows came charging out scattering the men far and wide. After 4 hours of trying to round up the animals, but running the other way as soon as one turned round, the local villagers came to help and the cows were settled into their new home.  

Every day the cows were milked and the milk delivered early in the morning to the house round the town by young men covering their heads and faces with kaffiyeh's. It drove the  local military commander wild. Eventually the IDF turned up at the field and demanded that the cows were removed. The activists refused and the military went away. A few days later they returned and again demanded that the cows go and went round taking individual photos of the cows.

The villager that was employed to look after the cows was repeatedly intimidated and assaulted by the IDF quit his job so people from Beit Sahour started looking after the cows themselves. After repeated harassment from the IDF the activists decided that the cows needed to be moved to a secret location. Eventually a suitable cave was found, it belonged to a butcher, he used it to keep cows in before he slaughtered them.  

The cows were collected in the middle of the night and delivered to the cave, the disappearance drove the military commander crazy. The milk was still being delivered but the cows were nowhere to be seen. Soldiers were sent door to door in Beit Sahour with the mug shots of the cows asking townspeople if they recognised them. Eventually the soldiers came to the butchers house and looked in the cave, initially they didn't spot the cows but a stray moo gave them away. The 18 terrorists had now been found.  

The butcher had a cover story and maintained the cows now belonged to him and he was keeping them until they calved and then would kill them. The soldiers arrested him for non-payment of taxes (for which he could be held for 48 hours) when released he was immediately rearrested. The activists decided this was unacceptable so the cows were again collected in the middle of the night and distributed around the local villages.  

Two years later one of the original team that bought the cows was arrested and questioned on an unrelated matter. The Beit Sahour military commander found out he was there and said to him "What the hell happened to those cows." When telling us this story the activist said "I now know I caused him sleepless nights thinking about the cows. That alone made it all worthwhile"
So ends the story of the cows of Beit Sahour.
 

Check out a new fact sheet on the Covergence Plan - what everyone here will be trying to survive next:

http://stopthewall.org/factsheets/1168.shtml

31 Children in 31 days

According to Defense for Children International, the following
children have been killed by Israeli military actions in Gaza since 26
June 2006:

1. Anwar Isma'el Atallah, 12 years old
2. Saleh Sleman Al Jemasi, 16 years old
3. Ruwan Fareed Hajjaj, 5 years old
4. Khalid Nidal Abed Al Karim Wahbeh, 1 year old
5. Mahfouth Farid Nasseer, 15 years old
6. Ahmad Ghaleb Abu Amshah, 16 years old
7. Ahmed Fathi Odah Shabat, 16 years old
8. Waleed Mahmoud Al Zinati, 12 years old
9. Salah Adeen Hammad Abu Maktuma, 17 years old
10. Ibrahim Ali Khatoush, 15 years old
11. Mahmoud Muhammad Al Asar, 15 years old
12. Ibrahim Ali Al Nabaheen, 15 years old
13. Ahmad Abdil Mina'm Abu Hajaj, 16 years old
14. Nasrallah Nabil Abu Selmieh, 5 years old
15. Aya Nabil Abu Selmieh, 7 years old
16. Iman Nabil Abu Selmieh, 11 years old
17. Yahya Nabil Abu Selmieh, 9 years old
18. Huda Nabil Abu Selmieh, 13 years old
19. Basma Nabil Abu Selmieh, 15 years old
20. Sumaia Nabil Abu Selmieh, 16 years old
21. Raji Omar Deif Alla, 16 years old
22. Muhanna Sa'ed Mesleh, 16 years old
23. Ahmad Rawhee Abdo, 13 years old
24. Ali Kamil Al Najar, 13 years old
25. Fadwa Faisel al 'Urouqi, 13 years old
26. Mohammad Awad Muhra, 17 years old
27. Khitam Muhammad Tayeh, 11 years old
28. Nadee Habib Al Ataar, 11 years old
29. Saleh Ibrahim Nasser, 13 years old
30. Bashir Abdullah Awad Abu Thaher, 12 years old
31. Sabrine Naser Habib, 3 years old

Hey. I need to send out an update: I'm fine. Bethlehem seems to be the safest place in whole region. I doubt that Hezbollah can hit here (or would want to) and hopefully the Israeli army will leave us alone. But really, don't worry, I'm fine.

In yesterday's radio boardcast, the International Middle East Media
Center reported the following:

The Palestinian ministry of health revealed on Tuesday that the
Israeli army has used a new type of explosive in its offensive on the
Gaza Strip. These explosives contain toxics and radioactive materials
which burn and tear the victim's body from the inside and leave long
term deformities.

The ministry called upon the international community and the
humanitarian organizations to send an international medical team to
examine the victims and confirm the truth about these banned weapons
that Israel appears to be using.

The ministry showed that most of the injuries which the hospitals
receive result from huge explosions, which cause burning and severing
of limbs, including the inner parts of the body. This causes long term
deformities.

In addition, doctors in Gaza have been forced to amputate limbs of at
least 12 injured Palestinians as a result of injuries sustained in the
current Israeli offensive on the Strip. D. Jom'a Al Saka the
spokesperson of Al Shifa Hospital in Gaza:

"When the Shrapnel hit the body, it causes a very strong burns that
destroys the tissues around the bones. When these shrapnel enters the
body, it burns and destroys internal organs, like the liver, kidneys
and the Spleen and other organs and makes saving the wounded almost
impossible. As a surgeon, I have seen thousands of wounds during the
Intifada, but nothing was like this weapon."

http://www.imemc.org/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=19950&Itemid=161

http://www.imemc.org/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=19948&Itemid=1

Lately we've all been glued to the television. The question on everyone's lips is "shu saar?" What happened? What happened in Gaza? What happened in Nablus? What happened last night in Bethlehem? In Beit Jala? In Beit Sahour? Palestine has had nothing but bad news. 22 Palestinians were killed in Gaza. Much of the Palestinian government has been thrown into the jail. The aid embargo continues and more Palestinians wonder how much longer they will be able to feed their families. Even in Bethlehem tension hangs in the air. Olive trees are being cut down, soldiers have arrested two young women, there are nightly incursions into the refugee camps, and even in Beit Sahour the army feels closer every day.

Palestinians and internationals alike ask each other what happened. A nightmare is being played out before out eyes and Palestinians constantly remind me that the international community has done nothing, nothing, to condemn Israel. And there is tremendous fear. Last night, I asked a young man from Dheisheh refugee camp about the invasion of Gaza. "It's sad," he said. "The army is destroying everything. We know that our turn will come someday."
But I will admit that I greet all of this news nothing more than a shake of my head. I haven't cried over the stories in the media. I just feel nauseated. And worried.

It's what passes for normal life here that breaks my heart. I can't protect myself from the daily disappointments and often it's the moments of happiness and human dignity that bring me to tears. I just heard that my Palestinian-American friends from Portland have cancelled their trip home to Ramallah because they fear being turned away at the Tel Aviv airport. I also learned that my friend Nasfat, whose children I've written about repeatedly, has lost his job. He used to work for a USAID-funded development project which had to be disbanded because of the aid embargo. Apparently, building schools and roads provides "material benefit to the Palestinian Authority." I can't help but wonder about the "material benefit" schools provide to children. I dread visiting Nasfat's family. I don't know if I can face what my government has done to him. I don't know if I can watch his children smiling and joking without bursting into tears because of their beauty and vulnerability.

A week ago, a Palestinian cultural center agreed to give us a lesson in Dubkah, Palestinian folk dancing. I, of course, rediscovered my two left feet and lack of rhythm. At the end of the hour, our teachers asked us to show them American "traditional dances." The class erupted into cat-calls, clapping, and laughter as Americans and Palestinians showed off their moves on the dance floor. Naturally, our Palestinian teachers out did us with far more acrobatic break-dancing then we could manage. As we swapped "traditional dances," I felt as though we touched on what it means to be human. Then I remembered that just a few years ago, during the first intifada, it was illegal for Palestinians to gather together for cultural events like dancing Dubkah. I wished I had a video camera or a giant mirror that I could hold up and show the reflection to the world. I would say, "Here. Watch my friends dancing. See your own humanity reflected back to you and tell me why this occupation is justified."

These are the moments that bring tears to my eyes.

Happiness Only Lasts for a Moment
By Frank Romero

Frank's a friend of mine who also lives in Beit Sahour. While I was asleep, he watched while one of our neighbors was arrested. Here's his account. Check out his website for many other stories and wonderful pictures and video. The Global Roots

Italy defeated Germany 2-0 in the World Cup semifinals tonight. I watched the match in a restaurant packed with families, old Palestinian men, internationals and grumpy young children ready for bed, as we cheered and celebrated the incredible last 2 minutes of regulation. The restaurant went into a frenzy when Italy scored its second goal in only 3 minutes of play. German fans cried. Italians went crazy. And Palestinians walked away in victory.

For Palestinians, games like this mean everything. For a short moment they remove themselves from reality, place themselves far away from occupation and live out their joy wherever they can find it.

On my way home from the restaurant, I received word from the taxi driver, who seems to know everything that goes down in Bethlehem, that Israeli jeeps were spotted patrolling the Beit Sahour area where I live. Shocked to even think that the Israeli military would have any business in this quiet neighborhood of Beit Sahour, I continued to walk the long way home with my roommate from Norway.

It was 1:14am. Ahead of us, bright lights and military jeeps stopped us from returning home. Determined to sleep in my bed regardless of what stood in our way (and a bit of stubbornness on my part), my roommate and I walked as close as we could before receiving orders from Israeli soldiers to stop. I blocked the bright lights with my right hand (and kept my left hand up in plain view for the soldiers to see that I was unarmed) in order to count the number of soldiers in the street.

I counted four Israeli military jeeps, one humvee and over 12 soldiers in full military gear. What I didn’t notice until I got within 300 meters of the vehicles were the soldiers in position from the balcony of a Palestinian family’s house.

An incursion was taking place before me. Someone was being arrested, I thought.

Other internationals from my town were in the streets taking digital photos and shooting video. Palestinian men sat paralyzed in their parked cars as they waited for the incursion to end.

So much for the celebration.

A few of us tried talking to the soldiers asking what was going on, who was being arrested and so forth. They told us to go home, to go away. I sarcastically yelled back, “I want to go home! You’re in my way. This is where I live. How ‘bout you go home!” My arms were still raised above my head.

After 30 minutes of waiting in the middle of the road, they left in formation, a very elaborate military procedure. The soldiers on the balcony moved first, and then the ones in firing position up the small hill. Two military jeeps drove off; the others stayed behind and waited for soldiers to board the back of the jeep. They drove off in procession.

Sahouris stood inside their homes in fear. They don’t want to risk looking outside their window or opening their door to see what was going on.

Once the Israeli vehicles left, swarms of people gathered in the streets looking for more information about the arrest. My Palestinian friend, who is a journalist, and I were one of the first to approach a man who stood blindfolded and handcuffed up the hill. He was not arrested. Witnesses say the man was publicly humiliated in order to divert attention from the arrest. The man was talking on his cell phone to warn others of the incursion.

We removed his blindfold and cut the zip tie behind his back. The man immediately reached in his pocket for a cigarette and sat on the hood of his taxi.

What happened? Who did the Israelis arrest this time?

It was a 22-year old, Niveen Douka, a young woman from the Abu Sa’ada neighborhood. She studies at Bethlehem University. Israeli soldiers took her to an unknown location.

We walked to where she was taken. Her family did not allow anyone inside their house. It seems they were still terrified by the incident. I looked over the shoulders of a growing number of men standing outside their door asking the family members questions in Arabic.

The house was ransacked and vandalized. The family: Muslim. In a town with a majority of Palestinians Christians, why does it not surprise me that the one arrested was Muslim. I am not casting a judgement, but making a statement about the Israeli policy of discrimination toward Muslim followers.

It’s 2:46am now and I am still upset. I’m upset that something like this could happen in Beit Sahour. I don’t know what the people of Beit Sahour are feeling right now. I don’t know if they are upset as I am.

“There is not much we can do,” one said. We smile, but only for a moment.

Occupied Voices: "From Gaza, With Love"

Well, after an extended "vacation" (well, really I'm just shattered from my work and Arabic studies) Occupied Voices is back! Take a look at this blog, passed to me by Halla: From Gaza, With Love This blogger is a physican and a human rights and women's rights activist living near Khan Younis, in Southern Gaza. Check out her most recent post for some excellent facts about the humanitarian and medical situation in Gaza.

While Others Fall Silently to the Ground

(a note -- all facts in this article are as accurate as possible as of three days ago)
In 1867, as more white settlers moved West, American artist George Catlin frantically tried to record the lives of the remaining Native people. In his book Last Ramblings, Catlin wrote that when any white settler was killed, the press immediately cried "Indian murders! Indian murders of white people!" But when Native women and children died, their cries were "muffled and silenced. Glorious institution, the "Press," but how much more glorious if it were not one-sided!"

Over the month that I have lived in the West Bank, the press has vigorously covered the kidnapping and killing of one Israeli settler, and capture of one soldier and two additional Israeli deaths. Meanwhile, 27 unarmed Palestinians, including 7 children, have been killed quietly nearly without mention in the international press.

Yesterday, Israeli tanks invaded the Gaza Strip to secure the release of one captured Israeli solider. The Israeli military bombed Gaza's power plant, plunging the population into darkness and cutting off water. As I write, tanks continue the shelling. No estimates of casualties have been released and I wonder if we will ever really know how many have died in this invasion.

As soon as Corporal Gilad Shalit was kidnapped, Condalezza Rice was on camera to condemn the kidnapping as the violent act it was. But Secretary Rice had nothing to say about the 27 Palestinians recently killed. In fact, on June 9th when an Israeli naval boat fired a missile on families picnicking on the Gaza beach killing 8 people, including five children and their parents, our government immediatelyexcused the attack as necessary for Israel's security.

Now, as Israeli tanks shell Gaza, I wonder what Secretary Rice will say next. How many Palestinian deaths will be justified to free a single soldier, whose life is now in more danger because the clearly punitive nature of this so-called rescue operation?

Every time human life is taken in this conflict, our government should condemn the violence without first asking the nationality of the dead. But it is clear that when some people die we will cry "murder, murder" while we will let others fall silently to the ground. By supporting Israel's actions unconditionally, we do little to prove ourfriendship. Instead, we offer our support to the violation of Palestinian human rights and to a military occupation which breeds the terrorism Israelis fear. Our attitude is "Israel, right or wrong." I shudder to think what might happen if other countries so blindly supported America in similar unethical and counterproductive actions.

Currently, every year we give Israel $3 billion dollarsworth of unconditional support. To bring peace, American aid should come with conditions which apply equally to both Israel and Palestine. If Hamas must renounce violence and recognize Israel, then Israel must also renounce violence, end its occupation, and allow a Palestinian state to be established. If the United States begins to hold all parties to international law, perhaps the basis for a peaceful and just resolution to this conflict can be established.

Until then, those who live in this nightmare will watch as the tanks roll on.

Hamas 'implicitly accepts Israel'

Palestinian militant group Hamas has agreed to a document backing a
two-state solution to the conflict with Israel, officials say.

The initiative, devised by Palestinian prisoners held in Israeli
jails, implicitly recognises the Jewish state.

Hamas's charter currently calls for Israel's destruction by force and
rules out peace negotiations with it.

The deal comes amid heightened tension with Israel following the
capture of an Israeli soldier by militants on Sunday.

Israeli tanks and troops have massed on the border and Israeli Prime
Minister Ehud Olmert has warned that a large scale military operation
is rapidly approaching.

Palestinian militants acknowledged for the first time on Tuesday that
Israeli tank gunner Gilad Shalit was alive.

"The soldier is in a secure place that the Zionists cannot reach,"
said Mohammed Abdel Al, a spokesman for the Popular Resistance
Committees, one of three Palestinian groups involved in Sunday's
abduction.

According to Israeli media reports officials believe he was injured in
the stomach and hand during the attack near Kerem Shalom.

More of the story from BBC NEWS:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/go/pr/fr/-/2/hi/middle_east/5121164.stm

Haifa

On Friday, I'm going to Haifa.

A city where everyone gets along, a coastal jewel, a holy place, one of the most beautiful cities in the world, Haifa has become a symbol for me. At home, a surprising number of people of all faiths ask me if I have been to Haifa, tell me to go to Haifa, and ask me if it's as beautiful as they've heard. After Friday, I'll be able to answer their questions.

Why aren't I feeling more excited?

Maybe I'm having mixed feelings because of stories I've heard about Haifa from Palestinians I've met. More than anyone else, they've told me how beautiful the city is, how much they would like me to see it, and how much they would like to see it themselves. Some families have also told me that they used to live in Haifa. They used to wake up in the mornings knowing they could walk down to the sea. But that was many years ago. While the state of Israel was being founded, an armed and organized Jewish gang called the Haganah, attacked Haifa in an effort to secure the city for themselves and drive out the Palestinian population. Many, many Palestinians left their homes before the city was taken and many others were forced to leave afterwards. They became refugees and they still cannot go home.

I know that Haifa is not just a beautiful place, but also a place where terrible things happened. There are many places in the world like that, perhaps nearly every beautiful place as has a dark history. But this one seems different to me because this time the terrible things happened to my friends.

Haifa's history hangs over me, but I don't think that's why I am feeling uncomfortable going. I think I'm feeling uncomfortable because my friends can't go with me. Haifa is in Israel proper, on the Northern coast, far outside of the West Bank. To visit Haifa, my Palestinian friends would have to obtain a permit from the Israeli government. The process is daunting and my friends would almost certainly be denied. I was actually supposed to visit Haifa last summer, but the 6th graders at the Ramallah Friends School whom I was supposed to accompany applied for permits over and over and over again and were denied each time.

My friends tell me how much they would like to go to the sea, to see it again or for the first time. How is it that I can go see the sea and Palestinians who used to have homes in Haifa or the surrounding areas cannot go and may never be able to?

On Friday, I'll go to Haifa. I'll see the Baha'i temple. I'll look out at the sea. I hope that I really will see a city where everyone gets along. I hope it will be even more beautiful than what I have dreamed. But I know I will wish that I could share Haifa with the people who I've come to count among my closest friends.

What would happen if I tried to take my friends with me? What if we, foreigners who can go to Haifa and Palestinians who cannot, were to walk to the checkpoint together and ask why some of us can go to Haifa and others cannot? What if we asked when the Holy Land's holy places - Jerusalem, Hebron, Bethlehem, and Haifa - will be free, open to everyone, owned by all, places of peace? Could we convince the soldiers to ignore their orders and let all of us through? It seems like an impossible hope.

The truth is, we can guess what might happen if we were to go to the checkpoint together, because similar demonstrations have been tried to before. If we were to go to the checkpoint, just my friends and I, my friends would sent home or be arrested and I would be powerless to get them out of jail. If we were to have a demonstration, like Palestinians and internationals have had here in Bethlehem before, it's likely we would disorient the soldiers but eventually they would shoot tear gas, threaten us all with arrest, and possible do worse. Traveling together to Haifa does indeed seem to be impossible.

Nonetheless, I still hope and dream that some day we will walk together into a brighter future for everyone and visit Haifa together.

Small Miracles

Two wise people have told me to be on the look out for small miracles. It's good advice because Palestine has become a place where one has to search for hope.  I've been feeling discouraged lately, so the task of finding miracles, even small ones, has seemed daunting.  Daunting, that is, until I realized every day I am in Palestine I do meet small miracles in the form of children.

"Hello!  Hello!  What's your name?"  Just five minutes ago I walked through the old city of Beit Sahour passing through a group of boys sucking on purple popsicles.  Like seemingly every child in Palestine, these boys shouted greetings at me and asked my name more as a ritual mantra than a question.  I responded in Arabic "Ahlan shabab," Hey guys.  The boys erupted into a flurry of Arabic that made me break out laughing.  I think that by the time I leave Beit Sahour, every child living here will have yelled at me "Hello!  Hello!  What's your name?"  I'm honestly looking forward to answering each of them.

I dearly love Palestinian children, but I'm often surprised by all that they endure as they live under Israeli military occupation. Palestinian children are incredibly vulnerable, as much as their parents may try to protect them.  Their very childhoods are occupied.

Last week in Abu Dis, I met a kind, respectful boy named Saleem.  Saleem made me smile when he told me that I looked like his cousin, expect that I was very short.  Saleem told me that he was eleven years old.  Then he said that a few years ago an Israeli solider stopped him while he was playing on the street and asked him what he was doing. Saleem answered that he was visiting his uncle. Then, Saleem told me, the soldier slapped him in the face.

I've heard many stories like the one that Saleem told me and witnessed a few incidents myself.  Let me share a few of them with you.   Then you can understand what life is sometimes like for these beautiful children.

• Last week I met a boy named Abdulhaddi who lives in Aida refugee camp, one of the three camps here in Bethlehem.  The Wall runs through Aida camp and has cut the children off from the field where they used to play.  Now soldiers enter the camp nearly every night.  The children are angry and sometimes they throw stones and often soldiers shoot tear gas, or worse, at them.  Most children are suffering from physiological trauma.
• Too many schools in Palestine have been disturbed by the arrival of soldiers or by harassment of children on their way to school.  In Hebron, internationals must accompany children and their teachers as they pass through checkpoints and as Israeli settlers throw rocks at them.  When I visited Hebron last summer, girls had been sexually harassed by soldiers at a checkpoint.  In the village of at-Tawani, settler attacks have become so out of control that the Israeli army has to escort the children to school.
• My friend Mohammed (name changed out to protect his privacy), a teenager from Marda, is a medic with the Palestinian Red Crescent Society but also occasionally throws stones at Israeli soldiers as they help to construct the Wall on his village's land.  Last summer,he was arrested and beaten.  During interrogation, the officials insulted his family and made him sign a statement in Hebrew, which he could not read.  He was then released in the middle of a settlement of ideological settlers, where he had to run for his life.  Mohammed knows that I don't approve of rock throwing, but I hope he also understands that I know this punishment was out of proportion to his actions and is illegal under international law.  During this second intifada, at least 2,200 Palestinian children, 17 and under, have been arrested like Mohammed.

I could share many more painful stories with you.  In light of what these children face, their survival seems miraculous.  But instead of telling you more terrible stories, let me list for you more about what Palestinians children have given to me.  These are some of the reasons I still have hope.

• I have hope because of Taher and Athena, two students at the Ramallah Friends School, and all of their friends who taught me my first words in Arabic and made me feel like a visiting movie star during my first two weeks in Palestine.
• I have hope because of 11 year old Hamoodi who refused to believe that I don't speak Arabic fluently and showed me how to sit down in front of the Israeli army while they as threatened to enter Marda, the village where Hamoodi lives.
• I keep hope alive for Moncade, Homoodi's 4 year old brother, who opened his arms wide when he saw me and said "asalam ayalkum!" like a television host welcoming me onto the Tonight Show.
• I have hope because of Shams, a young woman with so much talent, who was one of the first Palestinians I knew I could count as my friend.
• I have hope because my new friend 8-year-old Agnes who can dance like nobody's business and who informs me that my new name is "Ju-Ju."
• I have hope because of every child who has ever ran through a meeting, played soccer with me, sat on my lap, or shouted "what's your name?"

There is still so much life here, thanks to these children. In light of everything they go through, every smile, every laugh, every child is a small miracle.

Not another Brick in the Wall (sorry, but I couldn't resist)

Pink Floyd is slated to perform in Bethlehem next summer, but is in
Israel right now, creating quite a discussion.

http://www.haaretz.com/hasen/spages/729817.html

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/13465660/from/ET/

Is it the 'worst of times'?

By Sami Awad

Once more as Palestinians we see ourselves making statements such as, "we are now living in the worst situation we have ever been in and it can't get worse than this." I have been hearing such statements for several years now. We all know what we will hear six months from now: "we are NOW living the worst situation and …" followed by: "I wish things go back to what they were six months ago." Has this become our reality? Going from one level of "worst of times" to the next with little or no hope for a better tomorrow? How long can this last and what will the final "worse of the worst of times" look like? Is there no way we can disrupt this trend and move Palestinian society in a different direction where we start seeking and fighting for the "best of times"?

I don't disagree with the fact that we are living in difficult times and that the trend is moving us to a grimmer and more hopeless reality. Here are just some of the many issues facing us as Palestinians today:

- The Israeli occupation machine is working overtime to building new, and expanding existing illegal Jewish only settlements in the occupied West Bank and East Jerusalem. At the same time, Israel is forcing a strict confinement of all Palestinians living in Palestinian areas, even in the Gaza Strip which Israel claims to have "de-occupied." I am sorry, but I cannot get myself to say the word "liberated" in describing what happened in Gaza because Israel only moved from an internal occupation and created a large de-facto prison camp holding the Gaza residents under strict and forceful control.

- The Israeli government is building the Separation Wall (or Apartheid Wall) as if it is a spider on steroids building its complex and deadly web purposely dividing and cutting Palestinians from each other, from their land, and even their natural resources. It is now considered an actual miracle to be able to complete a usual half hour trip between two Palestinian cities in less than two hours. I cannot be convinced that this wall is done for "security reasons." The wall and the military checkpoints are justified for Israeli security as much as the war on Iraq is justified due to the Iraqi position of nuclear and biological weapons.

- The Israeli policy of assassinations, raids, arrests, and attacks has continued with great force. Like always, those who are suffering the majority of the attacks are the civilians. You have to even think twice now before taking your family for a swim on the Gaza beach as we recently witnessed an Israeli missile attack that killed seven members of one family. Again, I know that many will ask what about the innocent Israeli civilians killed by Palestinian attacks? I oppose such acts and believe that it is a moral responsibility for all of us to prevent the killing of the innocent. However, it remains a fact that the greater legal and rational responsibility is for the occupier to insure the safety of those it occupies from its organized, well trained, and dominant forces than for Palestinians to insure the security of the occupier from unstructured, untrained and comparatively inferior militant groups.

- For the first time, following the Israeli lead, the international community is punishing, strangling, imposing economic sanctions, and demanding political concisions from an occupied people with no justified reason why such punishment is being inflected and no assurances to why such political concisions should be made. This act of vengeance is in response to us engaging in democratically free and fair elections that resulted in an undesirable result to Israel and the international community. Sanctions are usually imposed on countries that violate international law and precedents. Guess what? Palestinians are being punished by the international community for engaging in free elections while Israel continues to violate international law after international law without even the slightest criticism.

- The economic sanctions have resulted in an economic disaster to all aspects of Palestinian society; public employees (mostly belonging to what the West and even Israel considers to be the moderate Fatah party) have not been paid in over three months, private businesses are falling into debt and going bankrupt, and the NGO community is witnessing tremendous monitoring of its financial transactions, forcing many donors to either cancel their aid programs or put their funds on hold until this issue is resolved.

- Finally, even though there is great pressure not to move in that direction, the economic and political pressures imposed on us are bringing us closer than ever to an internal civil war.

Yes, the situation is bad and yes it can get worse, but the question remains one: for how long will we, the Palestinian people, remain silent? Yes, the Palestinian people, and no one else. I believe that the time has come for the Palestinian masses to rise and in one united voice say enough is enough. Enough to us allowing the world to continue treating us as if we are victimizer; more importantly, enough to the internal feeling that we are the helpless victim. Enough to internal strife and bickering over pointless political statements and positions by our leaders; they only make the rest of the population shake our heads in disgust. Enough to fighting over 'crumbs' while ignoring the occupation that is devouring the 'cake' around us. Finally, enough to complaining about how bad things are and let us answer the question: what can we do to reverse this trend?

To my people I say that we as Palestinians must stand up and say enough ignoring the fact that the power of the people engaged in nonviolent resistance and direct action can create the real and tangible change we are looking for. We must realize this, our leaders must realize this and the world must realize this as well. Everyone knows that Israel already realizes the threat of a popular/non-armed resistance movement to the occupation. It is now our turn to realize this power that is within us and we must organize our resources, our strategies, and population around it. It is only through the empowerment of the people that we can make the change we seek. The occupation is affecting us all and it is therefore our collective responsibility to do something to end this occupation as soon as possible and begin building for the 'best of times'.

Sami Awad is the Executive Director of Holy Land Trust. A Palestinian nonprofit organization dedicated to strengthening the nonviolent resistance movement in Palestine. For more information please visit http://www.holylandtrust.org/.

For the past few months Holy Land Trust has been conducting an intensive program of nonviolent and popular participation training across the West Bank. Hundreds of Palestinians have been trained and hundreds more will be trained before the year is over. The results of the trainings have been extremely positive, promising and, dare I say, even hopeful! This program is only part of a growing nonviolent movement and will compliment the rest of the nonviolent work taking place in Palestine.