March 25 - April 8, 2006Report 2. The Normality of Abnormality: Go to http://www.forusa.org/programs/ipb/del18photos.htm to see the delegation photos! Occupation What is the occupation? Four days in, and I feel like I’m asking the question for the first time. Before I arrived here I thought that “occupation” was synonymous with overt violence and death. While these things are certainly part of an occupation, they are far from being all of it. In some ways, measuring an occupation using death and injury statistics – or even home demolitions – is misleading. What is happening here may be more insidious, more subtle, and more disturbing. Which is worse- random violence or a systematic subjugation and humiliation of an entire people? The occupation is experienced by Palestinians as limited mobility, lack of economic opportunities, and a general social breakdown. One of the residents of Hebron told us that the worst thing about the occupation is the social disintegration of the Palestinian people. One contributing factor is the enormous difficulties of travel. To get from A to B, people need to go through K, P, and sometimes X – that is, if they can even get to B. A volunteer with the Christian Peacemaker Team www.cpt.org in Hebron told us that movement here is like going around your elbow to get to your knee. Checkpoints stymie movement within cities, sometimes for hours. People with certain plates or ID cards can’t travel to certain places. A Palestinian student we met from Ramallah cannot visit family members in Jerusalem, which is less than ten miles away. People go to great lengths and endure great hassles to get where they need to go, or they become resigned and stay home. While there might be less violence than there was several years ago, it’s not the result of a peace with justice. It’s because Palestinians have gotten used to the procedures, and know the consequences of active resistance. I haven’t seen any violence since I’ve been here, just situations that feel like the light is being blown out. I fear the situation is too quiet here. This is the worst for me to witness – the resignation I sense in many places. But at the same time, the occupation is incredibly dynamic. Checkpoints keep changing.The wall continues to be built at an alarming rate.One day there will be an Israeli Defense Force jeep with guards establishing a “flying checkpoint;” another day it’s gone. Markets grow near checkpoints and then are demolished by the Israeli army. Roads are closed, then reopened, then closed again. The dynamic, ever-changing nature of the “facts on the ground” (a phrase used liberally here) makes me feel like there’s no time to act, no time to do anything. -- Anne Miller The Politics of Normal On a recent evening, a few of us went to visit Saeed and Hisham, two friends of our delegation co-leader Mike Daly, in East Jerusalem. In the middle of a long day, it was a relief to take a step back and have some tea at the hostel that Saeed owns and Hisham manages.They were kind enough to speak mostly in English so that I could follow along. A few minutes into our scattered conversation, Saeed broke a lull in conversation by gesturing towards the window and remarking, "It's a war zone out there." I nodded in attempted solidarity, but he continued, "Those falafel guys next door – they're always trying to take over our roof space. Every day we have to argue with them." It seems that everything here, even tea and falafel, is about land. Most of our conversation at the hostel up to this point had been dominated by trivialities (Saeed trying to pawn off stray cats to hostel residents; Mike commenting that nothing has changed in the hostel, etc.), but as these conversations take place, only a few minutes ever seem to go by before the language of politics (larger than roof disputes) enters the conversation, albeit indirectly. Later, Saeed tells me about the impact that the separation wall has had on his daily routine. He lives in the town of Abu Dis, just outside Jerusalem. Before the wall went up, it would take him 5 -10 minutes to drive the short distance into Jerusalem. Now, he has to drive about 10 -12 miles around the wall and through a checkpoint to get to a place where he can pass through.The trip takes an average of 45 minutes, but, depending on the line at the checkpoint, can range anywhere from 20 minutes to a few hours. “You never know," he shrugs in explanation. I ask Saeed for advice on getting to the Tel Aviv airport from the West Bank town of Bil'in for my return flight (Bil'in and the Tel Aviv airport are less than 50 miles apart). He warns me that with my dark complexion and a name like "Shah," I should get back into Israel the night before to be safe – because I'll need to contend with the checkpoint on the road to Israel and perhaps up to three hours of security checks at the airport. Hisham is more confident and feels that if I leave by 6 a.m., I may have a shot at catching my 1 p.m. flight. He tempers his advice with a laugh and adds, "Of course, you'll need to check the forecast – the political forecast". Clichéd as it may be, it appears that the only certainty around here is uncertainty.Or, as Saeed puts it, "Everything is possible." Still, despite their turbulent environment, Saeed and Hisham seem determined to preserve some sense of normalcy by enjoying their afternoon tea, and cracking jokes about family members, hostel residents, and stray cats. So far, they seem to be winning that battle. -- Raja Shah April Fools' Day On Saturday we visited Hebron, a Palestinian city in the Southern West Bank. Members of the Christian Peacemakers Team (CPT) met us and gave a tour of the city. Afterwards we met with Zleikha Muhtasab, the founder of the Ibrahimi Center who told us about her work with children and took us out to see more of what has become of Hebron.We also visited the Ibrahimi Mosque and Tomb of the Patriarchs. Maybe it was appropriate to visit Hebron on April Fools' Day, because I finally got a handle on the complete absurdity of the occupation, the settlements, and the wall. Hebron is the largest city in theWest Bank, with a population of about 200,000 Palestinians.In addition, there are about 1,200 Israeli soldiers stationed there to protect Israeli settlers that live in – and above – the old markets of Hebron. The old city is cut in two, effectively cutting off the Muslim population from the Muslim cemetery. The division of the old city is to protect the settlers -- all 400 of them -- from the Palestinians.This means that each settler has, in effect, three personal bodyguards. On another note, I am also beginning to understand what I had previously considered Palestinian apathy. One of our hosts for much of the day, Zleikha Muhtasab, said: "Maybe you would find it strange that we change abnormalities (occupation, settlements, and the wall) into normalities, but we have to adapt." Adapt they have.Mesh fences droop down from the open air markets and above the alleyways – filled with trash, beer bottles (from Purim most likely), and filth.They are there to stop the trash that settlers thrown down onto the Palestinians below. Hopefully a just peace can be realized before occupation becomes annexation, settlements become full neighborhoods, and the wall is in fact a permanent border in, around, and through Palestine. -- Keith Smith Among Israeli Settlers During our delegation's visit to Hebron, I met with the family of a friend, who took me fora tour of the old city. There I met a man who runsa small shop, above which his family lives. Like the other residents of Hebron's old city, he lives among Israeli settlers. Unlike most of the other settlers in the West Bank who live in isolation from the Palestinian population, these settlers live in the heart of the old city. Standing on his roof, we could see an Israeliroof-top check point intended to prevent Palestinians frommoving around the city via the roofs, when the soldiers make moving through the city otherwise difficult or impossible. Directly below me was the area of the old city completely closed off to Palestinians. I saw former Palestinian shops now being used to house Israeli settlers’ animals. The settlers in Hebron are systematically trying to push out the Palestinian residents of the old city – by force, by offering money, and by coercion. Settlers offered one man $250,000 to leave his home, which he turned down. The military told him that "your childrenwill suffer." When his pregnantwife went into labor, the border patrol held the ambulance for four hours, and the baby died. The settlers repeated their offer and the man again refused. His wife became pregnant again, and the soldiers delayed the ambulance again and that child died as well. This man says that he is now even less likely to sell his home in the old city. He told me that God has been good to him and that his wife is again pregnant.Their story is documented in “The Spider's Web,” a video produced by Al-Haq, a leading Palestinian human rights organization (www.alhaq.org). Hearing about this man's children wrenched my heart. One of his other children suffers psychological problems, and another suffered a broken leg when settlers pushed a heavy rock from a settlement house onto his roof.When there is violence in their neighborhood, the father now sends the children to the hospital to sleep. What is happening to the children in the midst of such violence? How will they ever recover? These questions are not sufficiently at the forefront of people’s thinking as they seek solutions to the conflict. -- Virginia Wilber See other reports from this delegation:
2006 Interfaith Peace-Builders |
||