I had planned for my next post to be about the incredibly fantastic and successful Christ at the Checkpoint conference that the Bible College put on last week, but that is going to have to wait, because unfortunately, there is something more urgent that needs to be spoken about.
How many of you know that right now, as I am writing this, bombs are being dropped on Gaza? How many of you know that Jabaliya Refugee Camp has been a target of this Israeli bombing? How many of you know that 17 Palestinians have been killed, including a 12 year old boy, and over 40 have been injured? (Update: latest reports as of Wednesday, March 14th indicate at least 26 dead [the most recent being 7 year-old Baraka Al-Mughrabi] and over 80 injured - mostly women and children.)
Palestinians women react during the funeral of 12 year old Ayoub Assalya killed in an Israeli airstrike in Jabaliya Refugee Camp, Gaza Strip, Sunday, March 11, 2012. The worst round of violence in more than a year between Israel and Gaza Strip Palestinians deepened Sunday with deadly Israeli airstrikes.
The whole thing began on Friday, when Israel dropped bombs in a (successful) attempt to assassinate Zuhair al-Qaissi, a Palestinian resistance leader. After his death, militants from Gaza retaliated by firing rockets onto the Israeli side, and things have escalated from there. The extremist groups of resistors are no match for the Israeli Defense Force; one side has a few rockets that they can shoot into the mostly empty southern Israeli desert, the other is capable of leveling the entire country.
A Palestinian tries to extinguish a fire after an Israeli airstrike in Rafah, in the southern Gaza Strip, on Saturday.
Even though Israel started the bombing, even though there was probably a better way to assassinate someone than to rain bombs down on their country's hospitals and schools and refugee camps, there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that the people of Gaza will take the blame for this. Gaza does not have multi-billion dollar Public Relations spin machines like Israel and the US, Israel's number one supporter. The only thing Gaza has are the small voices, like mine, saying "We are in this land. We are on the ground. We are seeing what is being done. Friends, family, please CARE about this! These people matter. These lives matter. These are your brothers and sisters who are being slaughtered. These are Children of God who are being murdered. Please, care."
But my heart breaks as I realize that it's not enough. It's never enough. My voice is not loud enough. My presence, not powerful enough. I cannot change the world, and I cannot solve this conflict. I cannot stop the bombs from raining down on these precious people. Together, we could. A public outcry, would. But the world remains silent as terrified Gazans sit in their homes and pray that God will spare their children.
Imagine if this was happening in your country. In your state. In your town. Imagine the pain and the terror that you would be feeling. Imagine how desperately you would want the world to speak out in order to end your suffering. Imagine your devastation when no one said a word.
I want to share this letter written on Friday by Waleed al-Meadana, a 21 year old student in Gaza. I think it resonates more deeply than anything I could even begin to articulate.
I am writing to all people of the world in solidarity with the oppressed and suppressed around the world. Right here, in Gaza, right now, being under attack, I have no place to polish my language; I have no time to choose my words. I am just being spontaneous, for every second counts. One hour later, I may have no chance to write you, lest being dead -- I have the same things in mind now all Gazans have. (I am Gazan at the end of the day).
The only thing I hear is the bombs; it is not too far away. At some point, the dead were 3. Some few minutes later, they were 6. One minute after, they were 7. And time is still counting! How many do you think they would get by the time I finish writing this or you finish reading it ?! Ambulances, rushing in the haunting streets, are also heard. I, like all the poor living things here, can feel the shakes, resulted from the bombs. Fear is easy to notice on the eyes of the children; they, however, show toughness and challenge that they never cry and they speak up their minds. It has been reported that 3 more people were killed in an Israeli raid, hitting the Palestinian legislative council.
The names of the dead are aired now: Moatasem, Fayyeq, Shadi, etc. But it does not matter any longer, for what keeps my mind busy now is "Who is next? What next? When is this all over?"—I wish I could think of an exact answer. Many thoughts are popping to one's mind at these moments: family, friends, poor people, the lovely past, the bitterly present and the bleak future. But we never lose hope of a better life. And a better future. While I was lost in such thoughts, dad asked me about the first name one of my friends has. He was actually listening to the radio when the dead were named. I felt like my heart jumped up to my throat. I panicked! I will sleep, though I am being bombed. I will have some sleep, though I am being terrified. And I will dream of a better tomorrow.
Life is insane right now. Seriously CRAZY. I'm busy preparing for the Christ at the Checkpoint Conference being put on next week by the Bethlehem Bible College, and the pushback we're getting is ridiculous. This is our second international conference, and we currently have around 500 people registered to attend. Our basic mission statement is that we aim "to provide an opportunity for Evangelical Christians to prayerfully seek a proper awareness of issues of peace, justice, and reconciliation in the context of the realities on the ground in the Palestinian Territories."
Our goal is to begin a dialogue about the roll of the church in this conflict. We will have many different speakers, from well known Americans such as Tony Campolo and Shane Claiborne, to British Reverend Steven Sizer, to Messianic Jews, Palestinians, and many others. We have a range of people attending, from very conservative to very liberal. We have Zionists attending and speaking. We hope to have a full range of opinions and beliefs present, so that we can have a truly open discussion about the issues surrounding peace and justice in Palestine.
Unfortunately, for the last few months, we have been drowning in hate mail. While we have an incredible number of people excited and supportive of the conference, we also have people who have ignorantly believed the awful articles likening us to Nazis and terrorists. My heart breaks every time I read a new article saying that we are evil and that there's a special circle of hell dedicated to people like us. I'm going to hell? For believing in reconciliation? For loving people who are the "wrong" nationality? For working toward justice for all of God's people? I don't think so; I know my Lord better than that.Obviously someone important is getting nervous, because the Israeli authorities have pulled my Palestinian bosses into meetings with the Israeli military twice now.
The craziest thing I've read so far came from The Jerusalem Post. Not only were we slandered, but our ideology and beliefs were completely twisted into something hatefilled and evil, and completely misrepresented. My favorite quote from this article is "Also presenting is Porter Speakman, Jr., who produced the horridly biased and widely viewed film, With God On Our Side, that urges Christians not to assist the Israeli brutalizing of Palestinians through the support of Christian Zionism." Why yes. I WOULD agree that we urge Christians not to brutalize Palestinians. What is wrong with urging Christians to avoid the brutalization of a people? How could anyone possibly argue that brutalizing Palestinians is an okay thing for anyone, especially a follower of Jesus Christ, to do?
The conference begins next Monday, and life will be chaotic until then.
In an effort to relax this evening, I went out to dinner with a dear friend here in Palestine, a British journalist named Emily, to a little bar in Beit Sahour, a village neighboring Bethlehem. It was POURING rain (as it has been for the last few days), and so when we were finished, we decided to have the bartender (who coincidentally is a good friend of Emily's) call us a cab instead of walking.
As we're headed back to our homes - she lives in Aida Camp, the refugee camp near my host family's house - the driver turns on his CD player, and on comes this guy rapping about ending the occupation in Palestine. I immediately googled the lyrics upon returning home. Turns out, the song was "End the Occupation" by Abu Nurah. His bio says "The son of Mexican immigrants, Abu Nurah grew up in Los Angeles' notorious Pico-Union neighborhood and went on to graduate Cum Laude from Harvard." Sounds like a pretty cool guy.
I felt like the first two verses were so powerful, and so I decided to copy them for you all:
It's essential for a people to govern their own affairs and return to the land of which they're rightful heirs; Living in exile is like life suspended for people back home the misery never ended; Those who resist are accused of terrorism for refusing to accept conditions worse than a prison; To the world, much of the suffering is invisible mountains of evidence held to be inadmissible; Occupations dehumanize populations their strongest supporters are the world's wealthy nations.
It's the women and children who suffer most from occupation their stories should be broadcast on every U.S. station; Maybe then the people would push the administration to suspend the billions we give the Israeli nation; And maybe one day mothers could breathe a sigh of relief and their hearts begin to heal from the decades of grief; Enough of roadmaps and Israel's iron fist the immoral state of affairs must cease to exist; How do you explain a 3-year-old shot in the head or an 80-year-old being crushed to death in his bed; Bishop Tutu has said that Palestine is a replica of what Blacks had to endure in apartheid South Africa; Many see the connection, others choose to ignore it they say no to divestment but back then they were for it.
If I could ask for anything from you over this next week, it would be for prayer. Pray for this conference, that God would use it to help bring about peace and reconciliation in the region. Pray for all of those attending, that they would be able to make it through the border without being stopped or turned away. Pray for the Israeli government and those making important decisions. Pray for the Palestinian government in both the West Bank and Gaza, that they will stay strong and non-violent in their quest for freedom. Pray for me; sometimes I feel like my heart is just going to shatter from all of the tragedy here - pray for strength and stability.
I probably won't be writing until March 9th, when the conference is over (since I'll be there from 5am-10pm every day). So until then, dear ones, have lovely days!
This is fantastic news! Khader Adnan is a Palestinian who was arrested nine weeks ago, and has been on a hunger strike ever since. He has been without food for 66 days, and is in critical condition. Israel calls him "a dangerous terrorist," however after two and a half months in prison, they still have not filed any charges against him. Unfortunately, this is all too common. Israeli authorities can arrest a Palestinian, and keep him or her (although it's almost always men) in "administrative detention" for up to six months (and can renew this six month period as many times as they want) without filing any charges or allowing any trial.
The first time I came to Palestine, I stayed with a host family. My host mother's brother had just been released from this administrative detention. He was arrested for being present at a non-violent protest in the West Bank, and had been in prison for the last TWO YEARS! Even though the detention only lasts six months, it is renewable basically indefinitely. After his first six month term was up, they renewed it, and renewed it, and renewed it. He ended up spending the entire two years in prison without any charges or trial, and when he was finally released, came home to meet his 18 month old daughter for the first time. Essentially, people are being held in prison for no reason, for as long as the authorities deem necessary. It is a tragedy that ruins lives, families, entire communities.
"Why are Palestinians so angry?" I'm always asked. I would contend that they are not in fact angry, but that their culture is very different, and if you're ignorant of these differences and only view Palestinians through your own cultural lens, then you may incorrectly perceive them to be angry. But if they ARE angry, probably it's because they're having to deal with garbage like this!
Imagine coming home to find out that your husband or father was just gone. He had been arrested, even though he had done nothing wrong, and you had no idea how many months, or even years, it would be until you saw him again. He was the only breadwinner for your family, so now you have no idea how you're going to eat or pay the bills. Would you be angry? Yeah, me too.
Luckily, there are people like Khader Adnan who are willing to stand up and say "This isn't right! I'm a human being, and you cannot treat me this way." He has brought light to an issue that very few knew about before. There was a demonstration outside my office today. Hundreds of Palestinian university students held signs and chanted in protest of an innocent man being held in prison.
Now, if the Israeli authorities had some sort of evidence saying that he was actually a terrorist, I would be absolutely fine with him being imprisoned and charged with his crimes. But they don't. It was, in all likelihood, a smoke screen, a way to keep Palestinians from speaking openly or actively working toward a just peace, a lame excuse used to rationalize the terrorizing of an entire people... just like so many other things here.
Israel to 'free' Palestinian hunger striker
Lawyer for Khader Adnan says Israel has agreed to free West Bank baker refusing food for 66 days over his detention.
Adnan said that his hands were shackled behind him and that he was thrown on the floor of a military jeep [REUTERS]
Israel has agreed to free Khader Adnan, a Palestinian detained without charge, who has been on hunger strike for more than nine weeks, one of his lawyers has said.
The revelation came hours before the supreme court was to hear an urgent appeal on Tuesday for Adnan's release.
The lawyer said that a settlement had been reached for ending his detention.
The continued 'administrative detention' of the Palestinian from the West Bank had stroked global anger with protesters clashing again with police in the West Bank on Tuesday.
Israel arrested Adnan, a 33-year-old baker, on December 17 near the northern West Bank town of Jenin. Israel accuses him of being a spokesman for the Palestinian group, Islamic Jihad.
He told lawyers and human rights organisations that masked soldiers violently broke into his house, where his mother and children were present.
Adnan said that his hands were shackled behind him and that he was thrown onto the floor of the military jeep and kicked and slapped by soldiers while they took him to the settlement of Mevo Dotan.
He began refusing food a day after his arrest and is now said to be in critical condition.
Earlier, Saeb Erakat, the chief Palestinian negotiator, urged world leaders to pressure Israel to free Adnan.
"I sent messages to US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton and EU foreign policy chief Catherine Ashton today, and spoke with the EU and Chinese envoys," Erakat told AFP news agency.
"I asked them all to intervene in Adnan's case. They must apply pressure on Israel to release him," he said.
Widespread condemnation
World leaders had expressed growing concern over the fate of the prisoner, who was held without charge under a procedure known as "administrative detention".
There are currently more than 300 Palestinians being held in administrative detention by Israel, without charge or trial, for renewable periods of six months, without any way of defending themselves.
Palestinian officials warned that his death in custody could start a violent backlash, while a spokeswoman for the Israel Prisons Service said on Sunday that they were "constantly monitoring" the situation.
"We understand the implications of this case," Sivan Weizman said.
But on Monday, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu's office went on the offensive, with a spokesman describing Adnan as "a dangerous terrorist" despite the fact he has yet to be charged with any security offences.
Until now, Adnan has not been charged and the military court that approved Adnan's detention has refused to release any details on the reason for his arrest or ongoing imprisonment.
Right before Christmas, I took a trip to Zababdeh, a little village about two hours north of Bethlehem, with the College Choir as they put
on their Christmas concert (I know this post was a little delayed, but I wanted to
wait until the Choir had finished touring to write about it, and then my computer broke, but NOW IT'S FIXED and I'm one happy camper). The Choir was kind
enough to let me (and my friend Courtney, a volunteer here through the Lutheran
church [funny story: we actually went to college together, but never met until
we got here, even though we have plenty of mutual friends]) travel with them to
see a little bit more of the country.
First, I feel like I should clarify something that
I'm constantly asked about regarding my placement. I work for the Shepherd Society, which
is the humanitarian branch of BethlehemBibleCollege.
My office is at the college, and so I spend a lot of time with students,
professors, and college staff. I often refer to "the college," and
when I do, I'm referring to BBC, the place I spend 8 hours every day.
So anyways, Zababdeh! Courtney and I got on the bus
with the choir. We headed up to the village. On our way, we ran into some cows and had to stop while they migrated off the road.
I was the official photographer for the concert (translation: terrible idea!). The Choir sang a
mix of traditional Palestinian songs, and Christmas carols, while I desperately tried to take good pictures without good lighting. The place was absolutely packed! Everyone was so excited to have us, and the community was so welcoming. We finished, ate dinner, packed up, and headed home.
One of my favorite pictures from the evening.
Now, this should be the end of the story. But
because this is Palestine,
it's only the beginning.
At this point, it's about 10pm and we're about 45
minutes away from home. We're all quite excited about this, because it's been a
long day and we're all tired. We're all chatting and laughing; we're happy
because the concert went well. Everyone was also relieved, because on the
previous trip (just the day before), the bus was attacked by
Israeli settlers.
Here's the video from the evening prior (Munther, the guy speaking, is the
vice-academic dean of the college, the choir director, and also one of my
favorite people! He's intelligent and hilarious, a great combination, and he's
my office neighbor so I see a lot of him):
We were well past where the bus was attacked last
time, and so we expected it to be smooth sailing from there on out. All of a
sudden, the bus starts to slow down. We were about to head through an Israeli
military checkpoint, which isn't uncommon in the West Bank, even though we were in Area A, which legally is supposed to be completely controlled by the
Palestinian government and police force (because Palestine doesn't have a military) - for more information on Area divisions and how that works, click here. But I mean, who is going to go up to these Israeli soldiers and tell them that
international law clearly states that they are outside their jurisdiction and
they need to leave? Absolutely no one.
As we approach the checkpoint, David, one of my good Palestinian friends, started to get a
little nervous, and so I asked him what was wrong.
"Last time I went through this
checkpoint," he said, "I got arrested and held for ten days in
prison."
"WHY?" I asked, "What did you
do?"
"I did nothing wrong. My family is from Gaza, and even though I am
here legally and had the papers to prove it, the soldiers claimed that they
were fake and that I was a terrorist. They arrested me and held me in prison, without filing any charges, until the BibleCollege found me a lawyer and got me
out."
I was obviously confused. "How is that legal?
How are they allowed to just hold you for no real reason? They need to have
proof of illegal activity before they arrest you! They can't just deprive you
of your human rights on a hunch! Why did you let them take you?"
"It’s not legal," he said, rolling his
eyes at me, "Nothing here is legal. But what was I supposed to do? Argue
and get shot? No, your only real option is just to do what the soldiers say and
hope that they don't hurt you. We're not in America, Meredith, and we don't
have fancy blue passports to get us out of trouble. We don't have rights like
you."
I was absolutely stunned and quite humbled. I felt
about three inches tall. Here I am lecturing people about their human and civil
rights through my American lens, when the rules are completely different here.
These rights that I take for granted? They don't exist for people here.
They wouldn't exist for me either, except for the fact that my government has enough clout to
force this government to treat me with respect. If the United States
lost its position as one of the World's superpowers, I would probably lose the
privileges that I have here, including the right to be treated fairly.
All conversation ceases as the bus slows down to a
stop. We had been motioned to pull off the road by the Israeli soldiers. Out
come the passports, ID cards, and documentation. On trudge the soldiers with
their machine guns and full body armor. One soldier stands in the front of the
bus with his gun pointed at us while a second one walks down the aisle checking
identification. Neither says a word. The ID checker points at certain people as
he walks, and as he finishes, yells out something in Hebrew and motions for
them to follow him. Off go the seven guys he pointed at. One of the other men started to object and question the soldiers, so they pulled him off the bus too. Now, I'm used to riding buses here, but typically they have a mix of tourists and Palestinians on them, which means that the soldiers are a whole lot nicer than when there were just Palestinians and two Americans on the bus. These were not the soldiers I'm used to; the ones who are fake-friendly, who smile at the tourists and casually ask where you're from and how you're liking Israel. These were the real soldiers; the ones that Palestinians see every day.
At this point, I'm shivering uncontrollably. The
adrenalin is pumping, and I'm afraid. These aren't some random faceless,
nameless strangers that are being taken off the bus, these are my friends. These are people who I just
worshipped with. These aren't terrorists! These are well educated Christians who have jobs and families, and who are contributing members of society. It's the middle of the night in the desert, in the middle of
December. It's freezing. Where could the soldiers possibly be taking them? Well
luckily, not far.
The soldiers take them off the bus, line them up, confiscate their
documentation, and one of them goes off somewhere, presumably to call someone
and check them out. Now, the first panic point is that their documentation is
gone. Here, if you are caught without documentation, you can automatically be
arrested. I've heard plenty of horror stories about soldiers confiscating documentation
and refusing to give it back, just to terrorize people.
The only thing I could think was "I NEED TO
TAKE PICTURES OF THIS! NO ONE IS GOING TO BELIEVE THAT THIS IS SERIOUSLY HAPPENING
UNLESS I TAKE PICTURES!" Unfortunately, we apparently are not allowed to
take pictures at the checkpoints for "security reasons." Everyone on the bus desperately wanted pictures, but were all too afraid to take them because they
could get in a lot of trouble.
"Well," I figure, "I might as well
put these double standards to work. I'm an American, so I won't get in trouble
if I get caught taking them. Worst case scenario, they confiscate my camera.
Best case scenario, I get some pictures of a situation that we usually aren't able
to capture. Risk? WORTH IT!"
So I snapped away… sneakily.
Seriously, can you believe this is real life? They ended up questioning one of the guys individually, and after about 45 minutes of standing outside in freezing weather in the middle of the night for absolutely no reason, they let them back on the bus, and off we went toward home.
The most infuriating part of this whole situation was that I was the only one who was shocked. The guys reassured me that this happens all the time, and they were just glad to get their IDs back and be sent on their way without more trouble. Don't get me wrong, the guys were upset, but they were also resigned to the fact that there is nothing they can do to change the situation. "It could have been much worse," I was told repeatedly. Maybe it COULD have been much worse, but how does that make what did happen any better? How can we ignore the problem, just because it's not the absolute worst case scenario?
Oh, you broke your leg? Well, we're not going to put a cast on it, because at least you didn't break both legs! It could have been much worse.
Oh, your mother was murdered? Well, we're not going to open an investigation, because at least your whole family wasn't murdered! It could have been much worse.
Oh, you were raped? Well, we're not going to press charges, because at least you weren't gang-raped! It could have been much worse.
Oh, you were stopped at an illegal military checkpoint, racially profiled, held without cause outside in the cold for 45 minutes, harassed, blatantly disrespected and degraded simply because Israeli soldiers like to remind you that they have absolute power over you and can do whatever they want with no repercussions? Well, we're not going to do say anything or do anything or really care about it at all, because hey, at least they didn't shoot you too! It could have been much worse.
Do these examples seem ridiculous and horrible? Absolutely. So why do we continue to allow people to be degraded, disrespected, and denied basic rights? Just because there was potential for it to be a worse situation? Does that strike anyone else as INSANE?!
I was furious, so incredibly saddened, and a bit shaken. What if the soldiers had decided to arrest one of the guys? What if someone had been shot or beaten? What if they thought we all looked suspicious and hauled us all away for questioning? There would have been absolutely nothing that I would have been able to do to improve the situation. I was completely powerless. It's one thing to feel completely powerless when you're in a line at the DMV that just doesn't seem to be moving, or when you're arguing for a higher grade and your professor just won't listen, or when the politician you voted for lost and you feel like the country is going to hell in a handbasket... it's an entirely different thing to feel powerless when you're in front of a machine gun knowing that the soldier who wields it can do anything he wants and get away with it.
After we were released, the bus went straight to the college, and there was no more laughing or chatting or singing. The entire atmosphere had changed. The reality of where we were crashed back down on us, and there was such deep sorrow. It's easy to slip into thinking that everything is normal until you're confronted with one of the devastating realities of life here, like the reality that there is an entire group of people who have absolutely no rights.
I went home from the college and sobbed. Every time I think that my heart cannot possibly break any deeper for these people, every time I think I've seen the most ridiculous part of this occupation, every time I think that nothing can possibly surprise me anymore, something else happens to show me just how wrong I am.
I know, I know, I haven't written in almost a month! I'm a terrible blogger. Here's the issue: my computer is broken. Seriously. I know. It broke the day after I wrote my last post, and seriously, it's probably one of the worst things that could have happened. I now have no way to skype with my friends or family, do my yoga DVDs (which were so helpful for stress relief), watch movies/tv/videos, or UPDATE MY BLOG! Luckily, I've been able to check facebook and emails via my work computer, but it is incredibly old and when I'm at work, I'm working, not blogging. I promise to stay after work and get a new post up, pronto.
So much has been going on here that I want to share: My friends and me getting pulled over at a makeshift Israeli military checkpoint in the West Bank; cars getting regularly gassed by soldiers as they go through the Bethlehem checkpoint as a "routine drill" (making a bunch of Palestinians and ex-pats ill); Palestinians being banned from the Dead Sea beaches, which are IN PALESTINE (in the West Bank), to appease the illegal Israeli settlers; Israeli soldiers detaining a 6 year old Palestinian; Jew-only parking lots in the old city of Jerusalem; and so many other crazy and unbelievable things. You'll have plenty of new updates coming soon.
I was planning on putting up a post about my eventful trip with the College Choir to Zababdeh today, but I think that can wait until next week. Instead, I'm going to put up this post that was written by Ryan (one of my fellow MCC workers in Israel/Palestine) and just was published on the MCC - Palestine blog. This post is called Nonviolent Courage Under Fire, and the original can be found here. It is fantastic, and really gives interesting insight into settler violence - something which is almost never discussed outside Palestine (if you have no idea what I'm talking about, I suggest that you read the quick explanation of what settler violence is by B'Tselem, an Israeli group committed to human rights in Palestine). It's one of those things that no one wants to hear about, because it challenges your stereotypes. Palestinians are supposed to be violent and Israelis are supposed to be peaceful, and any information that counters this belief is usually just ignored. Anyways, with no more commentary, here's Ryan's incredible post:
Palestinian nonviolence activist Hafez Hreini, from the village of At-Tuwani in the South Hebron Hills.
It takes courage to run toward someone who is shooting at you, especially if you are unarmed.
In April 2004, in the Palestinian village of At-Tuwani, Hafez Hreini learned that Israeli settlers had approached his 70-year-old mother Fatima in the fields as she was tending her sheep. In this area of the South Hebron Hills, Palestinians have long faces frequent harassment from Israeli settlers and soldiers attempting to take control of more and more land.
Hafez ran to the fields, heart pounding. When he saw his mother, her face was bloodied. Eight Israelis from the nearby settlement of Ma’on had hit her in the head with rocks and beat her with her own shepherd’s rod. One of the settlers had a gun.
In his memory, Hafez barely heard the sound of the gunshots. As he recalls, “I was looking only at my mother.” But as he sprinted to his mother’s rescue, he remembers bullets ricocheting from the rocky ground under his feet, spraying dirt that stung his face.
The Israeli peace activists who had alerted Hafez to the situation also rushed to the scene and caught much of the incident on video. They were intervening as Israeli police and soldiers arrived and the settlers ceased their attack. A Palestinian ambulance rushed Fatima to the hospital. The next day she filed a complaint with the Israeli police, but none of her attackers were prosecuted, in spite of the video and eyewitness evidence.
As he retells this painful story in his gentle voice, Hafez remembers being filled with rage. What culture on earth does not justify retaliation for an attack on one’s mother? Instead, he says, “My first nonviolence came from my mother.”
As he cared for her during her painful recovery, Fatima told Hafez that he must find a good way to resist, but she did not ask for the revenge that he was contemplating. “Will it work or not?” was her simple response. “You will destroy yourself, and your family. You have to promise that you will not go this way.”
“It was the first step for me,” Hafez recalls.
The attack on Hafez’s mother is just one example from decades of harassment faced by his family and village. Consequently, for two years before the attack on Fatima, Israeli solidarity activists had been coming to At-Tuwani to document and try to prevent settler and military violence. Hafez says that it was hard to trust these activists at first, but they showed him and his community a “new reality” that not all Israelis were oppressors in the form of settlers and soldiers.
“I realized that most Israelis and internationals know nothing of the occupation,” recalls Hafez. But this was slowly changing through the efforts of Israeli groups such as Ta’ayush, and international presence provided by Christian Peacemaker Teams and Operation Dove. Their accompaniment, combined with small successes through nonviolent demonstrations and legal advocacy–winning recognition of land ownership, access to the electrical grid, and court-mandated Israeli military escorts protecting schoolchildren from settler harassment–built the community’s confidence in nonviolent resistance.
Joe Carr and Laura Ciaghi of Christian Peacemaker Teams walk with Hafez through his village's olive groves.
On these foundations, At-Tuwani continues its struggle. “We’re doing it [nonviolence trainings] to create a new generation that believes in peace,” says Hafez. “It’s like a tree–you have to water it every day.”
But Hafez and his community’s most fundamental form of resistance is not in nonviolence trainings, demonstrations, or lawsuits, but in the Palestinian concept of sumud, or “steadfastness.”
“This is resistance–to go daily to your land,” Hafez explains. In this way, just by living their lives in the face of ongoing oppression and violence, “we are protesting every day, every night.”
According to reports by humanitarian and human rights groups, settler violence against Palestinians throughout the West Bank doubled in 2011 and is the worst since 2005. As in Fatima’s case, perpetrators enjoy virtual impunity from Israeli authorities, with 90% of complaints going unprosecuted.
“It happened to my mother and it is happening everywhere,” says Hafez. “They are looking for excuses to show Palestinians as violent animals. They are provoking violence.”
Hafez shares his story with a learning tour sponsored by MCC East Coast.
Recent media reports highlight the Israeli government response to spikes in settler violence, but often ignore the fact that Palestinians still face intense state violence. Residents of At-Tuwani have faced the demolition of their homes and even mosques by Israeli authorities as well as physical attacks on a number of occasions. Two years after being attacked by settlers, Fatima was again hospitalized after being beaten by Israeli soldiers at a nonviolent demonstration.
As Hafez and Fatima’s story demonstrates, neither Palestinian resistance, Israeli activism, nor international solidarity can be successful in isolation. The people of At-Tuwani and throughout the occupied Palestinian territories demand allies at all levels of struggle–on their land, in the courts of their oppressors, and to all corners of the international community. As Hafez states, “We need the support of everyone who believes in peace, human rights, and justice.”
Hafez’s story was just one of many that we heard on our most recent MCC learning tour. These tours are one of the key ways by which MCC shares the stories of our Palestinian and Israeli partners and neighbors with people around the world. Members of the group that met with Hafez in October just hosted their own storytelling night back home in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, with more than 125 people attending. Such efforts, and the ripple-effects of activism that result, further encourage the steadfast resistance of Hafez and many others.
As most of you know, Palestine is divided up into two halves, which are similar in many ways, but have a few differences, including being governed by two different groups. The West Bank, where I live, is governed by the Palestinian Authority, which is by and large a peaceful group committed to nonviolent means of resisting the occupation. Gaza, however, is ruled by Hamas, which is classified as a terrorist group by the EU, USA, Canada, and Israel, because of their refusal to recognize Israel and their sometimes violent means of fighting back against the occupation.
Since Gaza and the West Bank are separated by Israeli territory, as well as governed by different groups, it is extremely difficult to get permission to go to Gaza. Even for West Bank Palestinians, who you might assume could just go from one area to another, it is very difficult to coordinate because not only must you get permission from Hamas to enter Gaza, but you must also get permission from Israel to travel through their territory to the Gaza border.
For the past 6-8 weeks, the Bible College has been trying to get permits for the Choir to visit Gaza and sing at the churches there, because apparently, they are really in need of some Christmas cheer. I think that things are terrible in the West Bank... I've been told Gaza is a hundred times worse. Israel continues to bomb Gaza on a regular basis, and extremists retaliate by shooting short-range rockets over the border into the Israeli desert, which then causes Israel to retaliate by bombing more of Gaza. Unfortunately, while most of the rockets from Gaza land in deserted areas of the southern Israeli desert, many of the Israeli bombs hit schools, hospitals, and refugee camps in Gaza. Apparently, Gaza looks a lot like an active war zone. I've often heard Gaza described as an "open air prison," as movement in and out are incredibly restricted. I have never been, and unfortunately, because the application process is even more difficult for internationals, I will probably never be able to go to Gaza, despite my efforts to convince everyone who goes that I'd be a really great person to have along with them (I'm awesome at carrying suitcases).
Fortunately, the choir is getting ready to go to Gaza, because THEY GOT PERMISSION! They were informed at 7:30 this morning that they had been approved to travel to Gaza, but their permits are only valid for 2 days. Yes, you read that right. 2 measly days. So, 4 hours after they got the word that they could go (after almost 2 months of waiting to hear back), they are packing up and leaving within the hour. Everyone is running around in a tizzy, trying to arrange to leave immediately.
When I mentioned that I was surprised at how quickly they were ready to up and leave, one of the older choir members, who we'll just call "G," told me a story that I thought gave me a really unique window into the Palestinian travel mindset, and I thought I'd share it with you.
G: "When I lived in America, I had to move from Missouri to Florida. I was very, very concerned. What is the procedure? I'd never left Missouri before. Would they let me out? How would I get through all the states? Would Florida let me in? I didn't know how it worked. One of my American friends could tell that I was very worried and asked me what was wrong. I told him that I didn't know how I was going to move to Florida. I didn't know the procedure. I hadn't filled out a request or called anyone or filed any paperwork. I didn't know how to go about getting permission to go from one state to another. My friend laughed and told me 'G, you just drive. No one cares. No one will stop you. You just... go.' I was shocked. It is not that way here. Here, you need permission to go anywhere or do anything. Most of the time, you are denied. But if you are granted permission, you better hurry up and go before someone changes their mind."
This whole idea of "asking permission from the government" is so foreign to me. I'm used to living in a country where I can pretty much do whatever I want. I can go wherever I want. I am encouraged to be independent. I am free. Freedom now means something very different to me after living in a place where, for all intents and purposes, people are not free.
I have another really interesting experience to share with you, but I'm waiting until the choir is officially finished with all of their seasonal travel, just as an extra safety precaution. I should get that post up late this week/early next.
Anyways, I hope you all had a wonderful holiday, and are enjoying being back at work (hah!).
Being a part of Christmas in Bethlehem this year has been fascinating. The holiday season here is much different from home, and honestly, it didn't quite feel like Christmas for me, even though I'm in the Christmassy-est place on the planet! There was so much to see and do here this past week, but unfortunately, I've had the flu since Christmas day, so I've spent most of my vacation asleep. Luckily though, we still have Armenian Christmas and Orthodox Christmas to celebrate, which are both in January, so I'm expecting to be healthy for rounds 2 and 3 of celebration! I'll definitely be filling you in on my interesting Christmas experiences once I'm feeling up to par.
I hope that you have a wonderful time celebrating the New Year!
