The Freedom Flotilla Camp in Beit Umar

The event took place after the weekly demo in Beit Umar against the occupation. I attended the increasing violent demo this morning with fellow activist Kobi Snitz. After the army violently injured one Palestinian photojournalist and rained sound grenades/tear gas on the non violent demonstrators, Kobi and I were invited to attend the children’s festival to address them about Israeli activists supporting of the popular struggle. Below video provided by Fil Kaler.

As soon as we arrived to the camp complex, a customary mob of kids surrounded us asking “what is your name?” and “where are you from?” in broken English. When I explained that I was Israeli from Jerusalem, most took a puzzled looked which only lasted for a couple of seconds and quickly dissolved as they would grab me by the hand and introduce me to all their friends.

Israeli Activist Addressing Palestinian Children in Beit Umar

During the festival, one by one a kid or groups of kids would get on stage to perform a poem or song about Palestine or the occupation. Most of the poems were about the unity of Palestine and expressed solidarity with the people of Gaza. After a slew of performances, it was Kobi’s turn to address the crowd. As he explained that we come from Israel and support the popular struggle movements in the West Bank in his Hebrew accented Arabic, I wondered what it would take for an Israeli summer camp to invite a Palestinian to address their participants. I tried to picture a Palestinian from Beit Umar addressing rowdy youngsters in Herzilya. To be honest, the picture was hard to convince.

The below segment chronicles the early years of actions by Ta’ayush and Ezra Nawi in the South Hebron Hills. One can see that the more things change, the more they stay the same. The beginning of the clip shows life in the contested city of Hebron in 2004-2005.

June 26, 2010 Bi’r el-’Id

There’s a strange beauty in the viscous black mud that comes up from the depths of the earth, from the bottom, or somewhere near the bottom, of the well we are cleaning in Bi’r al-’Id. Bucket after bucket of it, lifted by pulley from down below, straggles to the surface, where we unload it and pour it out on the rocky escarpment. Its texture changes remarkably over the long morning hours from a watery top layer to heavy, shiny dark loam to a granular, sticky brown. It has a strong smell, like the sulphurous mud from the Dead Sea (not very far away) that people smear over their bodies for healing. Yehuda says the Palestinians of Bi’r al-’Id should bottle it and sell it at the airport: “Sacred Mud from the Sacred Desert.” There’s no end to it. The buckets go down and up, down and up, heavier each time; the rope attached to the pulley is now caked solid with mud, and the escarpment has turned into a mire. Amiel, Dolev, and Danny are down in the dark recesses, filling the buckets alongside Haj Isma’il. Suddenly Ezra arrives—he was released from jail only a few days ago—and immediately lowers himself, like Spider Man, down the shaft. You can’t stop him. When they emerge hours later, they are black troglodytes, covered with mud from head to toe; and we, too, working the buckets above ground, are splattered, encrusted, soaked.

Ezra Nawi in the mud in Bir El Ad

When I said goodbye to Amiel almost five months ago, he said, “We will meet in the spring, and when you get back, things will be the same here, just a little worse.” But actually in some ways they’re a lot worse. The continuing struggles against the occupation, on the ground in the territories, take their usual grim course, but inside Israel hardly a day passes without some new and sickening jolt. The country is in the grip of violent nationalist paranoia spiked with inventive forms of wickedness and active hatred for Palestinians, of an intensity I’ve never seen before. Here, for example, is what Yulia Shalamov Berkovitch, a member of the Knesset (from the Kadima “centrist” party), has to say: “”Israeli academia apparently suffers from ‘Palestinomania,’ a mild psychological illness whose symptoms include self-hatred, an affinity for Israel’s enemies, Jewish anti-Semitism and/or anti-Zionism. The spread of ‘Palestinomania’ demands the immediate and painful treatment for all of our sake, and the sooner the better” (Haaretz, June 21). I wonder what treatment she has in mind: Lobotomies? Re-education camps? Firing squads? In the same report, we learned that the Minister of Education, Gideon Sa’ar, thinks that it is “important to examine the issues” raised by a rabidly right-wing group called Im Tirtzu in a report on “anti-Zionist trends” in Israeli universities. According to Im Tirtzu, 80% of the reading materials assigned in the departments of Political Science in Israel are anti-Zionist and anti-nationalist and should, one must assume, be banned. They seem to have a black list, which no doubt includes the works of Rousseau, Plato, and John Rawls. The minister, whom some once saw as relatively enlightened, apparently goes along with this. The next step, I suppose, is censorship in the classroom, followed by book burnings in the public square.

Milder signs of the times are everywhere; the mayor of Ramat Hasharon in the coastal plain has decreed that in all schools that require a uniform, the pupils, from next year on, will have to tie Israeli flags to their wrists. He must feel, perversely, that a lack of patriotism is eating away at the foundations of our national existence. Add to this the decision by Jerusalem’s mayor Barkat to demolish 22 Palestinian houses in Silwan—the same homes we saved by an international campaign in 2005—and the ongoing, indeed escalating evictions of Palestinian families from their homes in Sheikh Jarrah. Barkat seems intent on setting the city on fire.

But here we are in Bi’r el-’Id, where our Palestinian hosts are, miraculously, rebuilding the homes from which they were cruelly evicted over a decade ago. The sun is dancing, the wind fierce for a summer day, the sky endlessly open like the human heart at its best, like the desert stretching toward the horizon just below us. I ask my friend Muhammad how things have been during my absence. “Fine,” he says; “no problems.” Afterwards I hear that his father was recently assaulted by Yaakov Talya, the notorious settler-owner of the ranch aptly named Lucifer’s Farm, hardly half a mile away; when the soldiers turned up, they of course arrested Muhammad’s father. He is now awaiting trial. (Perhaps the military judges will send him to jail for the crime of having been attacked, as they have so many others we know.) And the road to Jinba, which we can see from our perch on the high ridge, has again been closed by the army after we punched it open with a water convoy last fall. Not long ago a boy from Jinba was seriously injured and had to be carried all the way up the mountain to the road near Bi’r el-’Id. Two weeks ago settlers from Chavat Maon entered Palestinian Twaneh, threw rocks at the villagers, and tried to set a Palestinian house on fire. In short: Plus ça change….

Yet mud-stained, back aching, thirsty, I surprise myself today. I am borne along on a wave of irrational, happy hope. I have missed these weekends in South Hebron—missed the people, the Arabic, the desert landscapes, maybe even the danger. Each moment we spend here has its own irreducible value. Each act of defiant friendship is self-fulfilling, self-delighting. There it is again, that odd, unpredictable happiness, the heady wine of inner freedom. Yesterday we marched in protest in Silwan—some 500 ordinary Israelis doing the simple, the decent thing—and at first I was wondering where the Palestinians were (most were standing at their windows and doors and watching us), and my colleague Yossi Zeira said to me: “This is our task. No one will do it for us. Every good action counts and adds to the pressure. Slowly they will add up and bring change.” Alan, walking beside me, said he had felt tired after a day at work and almost didn’t come, and then he remembered a phrase from the end of Stephen Poliakoff’s film “1939″: “It is when the good people, or even those who are only half-good, remain silent that evil flourishes.” And there are moments of still deeper insight. When Eileen heard the rhymed slogan we’ve been chanting—”Ein kedusha be’ir kvushah, There is No Sanctity in an Occupied City”—she said: “Maybe there is sanctity only in an occupied city.” I think she’s right. Nothing in my experience comes as close to the meaning of a word like “holy” as the act of protest against what the municipality and the police are doing in Palestinian East Jerusalem.

That’s also what Istvan tells me as we work the buckets by the well. He’s a religious man, and to him these Ta’ayush hours in South Hebron are what religion is all about: truth, for example, and loving-kindness. “The settlers think that they represent the true Judaism,” I say to him, “and sometimes I’m afraid they may be right.” “No,” he says, “they are certainly wrong.” At moments a great simplicity emerges in the mind, like cleaning a muddy well, and you taste a giddy seriousness, a sudden lightening of the heart. Sitting beside us is Ziad Muhamra, shot point-blank in the face by a soldier some years ago when Ziad refused to take his goats off his ancestral grazing grounds. He told me his story last time I was here. Ziad survived, thanks to a devoted Israeli surgeon. He was in hospital for a year, fed by tubes. Today he remembers happily the moment he ate solid food again for the first time—a banana. It took him half an hour to eat it, and the whole ward, the nurses and the doctors and the other patients, all gathered round to watch this astonishing event. Now he has come back to Bi’r el-’Id. When he mentions his doctor, searching for the foreign Hebrew name, it seems to me, for a second, as if this tough shepherd from the desert, a true survivor, is close to tears.

But some things are simpler than others. ‘Id has joined us today; we embrace like brothers when I see him. But his life in the village is perhaps no longer viable. People envy him—he is educated, articulate, self-possessed—and some don’t like the fact that he has Israeli friends. A few days ago Palestinians came to Umm al-Khair and tried to kill him; he managed to get away. He has a wife and a baby daughter, and it’s not clear where he can go; he’d like to study somewhere in Europe. He’s good with his hands, artistic by nature. Maybe we’ll be able to help him. Then there is Haj Isma’il, with his 33 children from four wives. How will he manage to support this huge tribe from his tent in the tiny, precarious khirbeh of Bi’r el-’Id? He wanted to take a fifth wife, but the Qadi wouldn’t allow it, not even when Haj Isma’il tried to persuade him he’d already divorced the first wife. “I still have my strength,” he says, “and I don’t want to waste it or take it with me to the grave.”

“So how was jail?” I ask Ezra when he emerges from the well. “Akhla—great,” he says; “highly recommended.” He was imprisoned for a month after Judge Eilata Ziskind found him guilty of attacking a police officer during house demolitions at Umm al-Khair, where ‘Id lives. I have no doubt that the charge was cooked up by the police in order to punish a central figure in the non-violent resistance to the occupation. The first week in jail, in Jerusalem, was hard; they refused to allow him to receive books, so he went on hunger strife—for four days he ate nothing, until the prison authorities relented. Afterwards he was transferred to Dekel Prison in Beer-Sheva, where things improved. The cell was filthy, he says, and infested with cockroaches who paid no heed to human attempts to drive them away; they slept with him in his bed, emerged from his towel when he showered. One day he asked the commanding officer: “Are these part of the menu or part of the punishment?” He found a 50-meter stretch of corridor where he was allowed to walk, and every day he would pace it up and down, for hours. He lost a lot of weight. But there’s no trace of bitterness in him—quite the contrary, today he seems to me at peace, and full of hope. At lunch I say to him, “I hear you’re feeling optimistic.” He laughs. “Yes. Just look around. Two years ago we didn’t even know the name of this place. These people had been driven off their land, the houses and terraces were destroyed, the wells stopped up. Now we’ve brought them back and stood by them, and we’ve helped them to stand up to the settlers and the soldiers and not to be afraid. They are here to stay. They are home. You can train people so they become able to resist. Even a few people like that make a huge difference. In the end we will win. So of course I’m optimistic. You must be optimistic, too, otherwise why would you be here?”

What you see here is nothing short of breath taking… the settlers, in plain view, throw stones onto the peaceful protesters. The army responds by trying to arrest Palestinian children. The fiction of Kafka comes again to mind yet even Kafka could not think of something so bizarre. Hebron is a city without rules. It is the wild west of Israel and, in a profound way, the face of the Israeli occupation of the West Bank.

On Sunday 23rd May 2010 Ta’ayush activist Ezra Nawi will be jailed for a month in consequence of his protest against demolitions in the Palestinian village of Um al-Chir (Please see video of the action below). As openly stated by his judge, the sentence is meant to deter him and others from such actions of protest. On the same day, their will be a protest meant to support Ezra and show commitment to continue the protest against the occupation and the oppression of Palestinians. This protest will be organized by Ta’ayush and be held in Jerusalem.

Ezra Nawi has been active for years in the area known as South Mt. Hebron. The Palestinians in this small desolate area in the very south of the West Bank have been under Israeli occupation for almost 43 years; they still live without electricity, running water and other basic services, and are continuously harassed by the Jewish settlers who constantly violate both Israeli and International law, and are backed by a variety of Israeli military occupation forces, all of which operate in an effort to cleanse the area from its Palestinian inhabitants and create a new demographic reality in it.

In March 2009, the judge Eilata Ziskind of the Jerusalem Magistrate’s (Peace) Court found Ezra Nawi guilty of assaulting a police officer and participation in a riot during a house demolition of a tin shack in the West Bank Palestinian village of Um el-Hir in the South Hebron hills, back in 2007. Nawi protested against the demolition by lying in front of a bulldozer, and later running into the shack before its demolition. Although throughout the whole incident Ezra kept to his principle of non-violent protest, in the end, he found himself arrested and charged with the aforementioned accusations that eventually led to his conviction based on the sole testimonies of two police officers who claimed that Nawi attacked them inside the shack. In addition, the judge Ziskind ruled that Ezra’s behaviour exceeded the limits of legitimate protest and therefore convicted him of rioting.

For more information about Ezra please visit his website Support Ezra.

Ta’ayush escorted farmers in the area of Umm Zeitune in the South Hebron Hills near the settlement of Maon. On this day, IDF soldiers tried to arrest/expel the Palestinian farmers while Ta’ayush activists blocked the soldiers path by standing in front of them. Five Israelis were arrested only to be released hours later with no charge. This is a weekly occurrence and helps to form the foundation of nonviolent resistance to the Israeli occupation in the South West Bank.

The Christian Peacemakers Team based in at-Tuwani have made an important video about children being attacked by settlers on their way to school. at-Tuwani is the largest village in a cluster of villages near the settlement of Moan and the illegal settlement of Havet Moan (both are illegal under international law… I am referring to Israeli law in this case). Children from smaller villages in the surrounding area attend school in at-Tuwani and are forced to walk past the settlement on their way to class. The walk to school is dangerous as the settlers routinely attack the children with stones. The CPT team filed requests for protection from the IDF and they responded by providing a military escort for the children. So basically, the Israeli army must guard Palestinian children on their way to school from Jewish settlers who attack the defenseless children. The situation is, in a word, bizarre. This is again an aspect of the occupation that is little reported but forms the background of the true repression that Palestinian must endure on a daily basis.

Often the IDF does not show up for their escort and international as well as Israeli activists assist the children by providing escort complete with documentary equipment in the case that the settlers attack. Last summer, I filmed the below video of settler children throwing stones at the Palestinian children as their parents watched in the background. Many of the comments on the video accuse me of staging the video… I do not believe that I could conceive of something so bizarre and twisted.

One of the main American members of Christian Peacemarkers Team was recently banned from entering the State of Israel. He had been living in at-Tuwani for the past three years, tirelessly worked on behalf of the people in the area. Unlike most international activists that come to Israel/Palestine on behalf of the Palestinian struggle, he showed a genuine interest in the Israeli leftists (like us in Ta’ayush) that assist the Palestinians and resist the actions of our government. I feel lucky to count him as a personal friend and it breaks my heart that the State of Israel has banned his entry simply because he gives voice to the struggle of the Palestinians of at-Tuwani.

The present video is a testament to the Kafkaesque occupation. It is not a flashy video. There are no explosives, injuries or tear gas. It is a slice of bureaucratic occupation that shows the residents of Umm al-Kheir trying to repair a road with the help of Israelis from Ta’ayush. Umm al-Kheir is basically a tiny cluster of houses and tin shacks immediately to the east of the Carmel settlement in the South Hebron Hills.The IDF stops all the work, declares that the work is illegal because the residents do not have a permit; a permit that is impossible to obtain. Finally the soldiers declare the whole area a ‘closed military zone” in order to remove all the Israelis from helping the residents of the village. We were able to achieve some work before the IDF removed us though. We repaired water holes, terraces and goat- and sheep-pens and prepared the infrastructure for continued works to improve living conditions there and enhance the local residents’ hold on their localities. As you can see in the video, this work is considered illegal and all the Israelis engaged in the work are ‘illegal workers”. Another facet of the occupation. It is another episode of the constant pressure applied to the Palestinians attempting to survive military rule, colonization and a bureaucratic nightmare that would make Austro-Hungarians frustrated and upset.

The short video also demonstrates the reality of Israel and the West Bank today. The West Bank forms part of the current Israeli state. Palestinians are effectively controlled (even those living in area A of the West Bank) by Israel. Eighty percent of the residents of this state enjoy full democratic right and privilege. Twenty percent of the residents of this state live in a situation of insituionzed discrimination. The rest of the residents live in a state of bureaucratic nightmere complete with changing laws which require permits that are impossible to obtain. Palestinians are not even able to repair a road with the help of Israelis.

Our group is large. We have multipe vehicles and groups of three to ten people go to different farming areas throughout the south West Bank. Our plan is to assist Palestinian farmers and document any settler violence or IDF harassment. The farming work goes as planned and we have no problems with the settlers or the IDF on this day. Eventually all of the Ta’ayush groups meet outside of Susya.. At this point, there is a decsion to be made at this point. Some can continue to the heart of Hebron where there will be a protest against a weekly settler tour that takes place in the old city (the Cashbah) of Hebron or return to Jerusalem. I choose Hebron.

The situation in Hebron is one of the worst in the west bank. The old city lies in the heart of the city and is one of the most depressing examples of Israeli occupation. The main street running through the Palestinian part of the old city is called Shuhdah Street and it has been closed by Israeli authories and continued settler violence. The once thriving commercial center of the city now looks like a ghost town. The shops are boarded up and made have graffiti from the settlers. One can experience the occupation with all five senses in Hebron.

Youth Against Settlements is a national Palestinian non-partisan activist group which seeks to end Israeli colonial activistes in Palestine (building and expanding settlements) through non-violent popular struggle and civil disobedience which is based in the Tel Rumida neighboorhood of Hebron. Ta’ayush has done many joint actions with YAS including building a protest outpost just outside of Kiryat Arba. They decided that it is time to take non violent direct action to the Shuhadah Street.

Their idea was simple. Protest the closure of Shuhada Street to Palestinians and the illegal settlements in Hebron. The idea was to cross paths with one of the normal “Jewish settler tours” that take place on Saturdays. We would form a human barrier and block the tour. As we traveled to Hebron, the mood among Ta’ayush members was a little tense. Hebron is a serious area and in order to arrive at the protest destision we would have to travel through the H1 section of Hebron which is technically off limits to Israeli nationals. It was a risk that everyone was willing to take.

The protest started calmly with protesters standing in front of the gate where the tour usually enters, holding signs and chanting slogans in Arabic, English, and Hebrew; this continued for some time without any disturbance. Soldiers and Israeli police looked onto and videotaped the protest from pillboxes and rooftops nearby. Eventually the protest was declared over, but was then suddenly reignited with news that the settlers had managed to enter the Casbah through another entrance. The protestors then began to advance through the marketplace alleyways to where the tour was said to be but they were met by a line of soldiers who blocked their path. Protestors continued chanting and tried to push past the soldiers claiming that it should not be a crime to walk through their own city. Protestors tried several times to run around to different entrances into the market to prevent the tour from progressing, but each time they were met by a chain of soldiers and the face-off /pushing began again. Amidst the chaos of running back and forth, one Israeli activist was arrested for no apparent reason.

When the protesters re-grouped at the original location alongside the checkpoint gate, they formed a human wall in front of the soldiers by linking arms. The soldiers stood in front of the protestors, blocking them, in order to create a clear path for the settlers to exit the Casbah and pass through the gate back to Shuhada Street. The police then arrived and arrested two more Israeli activists as well as a Palestinian activist and resident of Tel Rumeida, Hebron. One of the arrests was particularly violent as the protestor was pushed to the ground and then dragged/carried away. The protest ended shortly afterwards. At 0200 in the morning all three of the Israeli arrestees were relased with no crime being charged. The Palestine arrestee is sitting in the Ofer military prison. The police are claiming that he assaulted an officer. It is unclear when he will be released and yet another example of how two sets of law govern the West Bank; one for Palestinians and one for Israelis.