Report Nine: Last Pieces
Bil?in
Bili?n is a small village (of
1800 inhabitants) in the West Bank about 10 miles from Ramallah.
From the 1980s until the present, Bili?n has lost over 500
acres of an original village of 1000 acres due to the confiscation
for Israeli settlements and for the security fence/Wall.
When we visited, we were warmly welcomed
by core members of the Bili?n Public Committee Against the
Apartheid Wall, including the head of the village council. Our report
focuses on the story of Bili?n, but we were also impressed
with the work described by an attorney from Jerusalem who directs
the Palestinian Legal Aid Center (started by the American Friends
Service Committee in 1976 and devolved to the Palestinians in 1996).
This was a dedicated, passionate group of speakers. Some were fluent
in English, others were translated, but all of them communicated
so much more than just their words. The leader sat at the head of
the table, an attractive 30ish year old male, holding his two little
girls who were attentive and quite beautiful. Repeatedly, the speakers
distinguished between their commitment to end the occupation and
their feelings about Jews and Israelis, whom they do not want to
harm.
We learned that from the first day
when the bulldozers arrived in Bili?n in February 2005, the
community began to protest, strongly committed to keeping it nonviolent.
Sadly, they were not able to stop the loss of 58% of their land,
the uprooting of about 1,000 olive trees (the lifeblood of their
economy), the building of an army road, and the erection of the
fence separating them from many of their agricultural sites. The
fence here is 3 miles inside the ?green line,? and while
it is ostensibly placed to protect the citizens of Israel, it is
obviously not constructed for military strategy but functions to
encroach on the villagers? lives and take their land. While
the government?s goal is all too apparent in annexing land
for future settlements and driving the generations-old families
from their land, the villagers? attachment is deep enough
to withstand these disastrous changes. They are determined to maintain
their community?s home, sharing an unmovable devotion to this
land.
On another issue, they have experienced
more success, halting for one and a half years an Israeli settlement
that is situated illegally, and without government authorization
on some of the confiscated village land. The Popular Committee managed
to smuggle materials behind the electronically monitored security
fence and to construct a one room concrete block structure, an extremely
bold action which became the legal basis for their obtaining a Stop
Work Order on the expansion of the settlement building. They spoke
with high regard of the work of their attorney (a Jewish Israeli
in Tel Aviv) who had succeeded in obtaining this order as well as
an order to destroy the illegal structure.
Every Friday a substantial representation of the villagers are joined
with activists from Israel and from around the world. Because of
the violent response of the IDF to the weekly protests, our Wednesday
visit did not include participating in this non-violent action.
The group was very eager to show us where the protests occur, although
in recent weeks the IDF has prevented protestors from reaching the
actual fence and provided instead a portable fence some fifty yards
closer to the village. The villagers are supported by all who join
them, but at noon the local group moves to the front of the protest
to prostrate themselves in the Muslim mode of prayer. Many have
been arrested, some jailed (villagers and internationals, who are
then not allowed back into Palestine), and many have been wounded
by the variety of weapons the IDF has used, including sponge bullets,
rubber bullets, and tear gas. We picked up souvenirs of bullets,
plastic handcuffs, metal opener from tear gas canister, and onions
? which the villagers use to partially neutralize the teargas.
Standing at the barbed wire enclosure used to imprison demonstrators
before they are transported to jail, we could imagine the painfulness
of being held there in the heat sometimes for several hours handcuffed
without knowing what would happen next.
We walked along the fence to the gate
where villagers can enter, with the soldiers? permission,
in order to tend their crops and pasture their goats. We were initially
denied entrance, but at the urging of one of the villagers, our
leader began a dialogue with the soldiers which ultimately resulted
in our being admitted for half an hour. Once behind the fence, we
could visit the structure they were so proud of having built and
dedicated on December 25, 2005, declaring it to be the Center for
Joint Palestinian-Israeli-International Struggle. It is occupied
by a unarmed security guard (a youth from the village who sleeps
in this small one-room house) and has been the site for community
celebrations such as the showing of World Cup matches. This part
of the encounter became surreal!
One of the surprising dimensions to
this exploration was the dialogue that several of us were able to
develop with two of the soldiers who accompanied us as we walked
to the Center. The Commander, age 21, expressed some recognition
of the problematic quality of his role, indicating that as a soldier
he couldn?t speak about issues he had feelings about as a
citizen. Pleading his youth at points as the reason for not thinking
too deeply about the situation, he seemed somewhat open to giving
consideration to what it would feel like to be in the villagers?
dilemma. It was strange for us to see how casually the villagers
interacted with these men whose demeanor and weapons we found threatening.
The sun was setting behind the barbed
wire fences as the adolescent shepherd whistled his goats onto the
military road leading to the gate, which the soldiers opened with
an air of complete normalcy. We proceeded to be hosted at a home
where an elaborate dinner was served followed by an out-door showing
of a film about the protests recently released and already winning
several prizes. ?Bili?n, I Love You? is well worth
seeing, and we were able to purchase DVDs to show at home. The hospitality
was wonderfully warm throughout our time with these inspirational
people.
The group spent the night in homes
in both Bili?in and the neighboring village of Kharbatha Prior
to the fence coming to and through Bili?in, it reached Kharbatha
where the villagers were similarly determined to hold onto as much
of their land as possible. One of our hosts, a close friend of Tony
Bing?s, relayed proudly the story of how every single person
in the village, including the very old, went to the field to lay
their bodies down along the boundary. In the morning when the bulldozers
arrived to clear the land for the fence, they said to the Israelis,
?You will have to kill us. We will not be moved.? Their
non-violent action spared many, many very old olive trees as they
succeeded in getting the fence shifted away from a large orchard.
-- Susie Ravitz and Beth Keiser
Birzeit University
It is depressing when so many Palestinians
you meet feel compelled to ask you to spread the word in the U.S.
that ?we are not terrorists.? So far, I have actually
avoided writing about this out of a fear that even mentioning the
word contributes to that being a frame through which people in the
U.S. see and understand the conflict here. But because many of the
students at Birzeit University (near Ramallah, in the West Bank)
asked us to do so, I want to start this report with some quotes
from them about the stereotypes they endure, before I talk about
some of the challenges and contributions of students at this university:
?People in the West are so afraid
of the hijab. When they see me wearing a hijab, they think I am
a terrorist or that some men are oppressing me. Men do oppress me
? just like they oppress women everywhere. Why aren?t
people afraid of nuns? Or of Jewish women who cover themselves?
It is my choice to wear this.?
?Wearing the hijab says something
about what religion I have but nothing about how I think. I am part
of a conservative version of Islam but I am not conservative in
my thoughts.?
?People think women have no freedom
here. Look, it is 8 women speaking with you now and we all think
and dress differently. And our university has 55% women, courses
on women?s studies and gender studies ? you can even
get a master?s degree in that. And we have a special library
on women?s studies and gender studies.?
?Wherever I go, people assume
I am uncivilized, that we are all uncivilized here. They are shocked
to hear we have computers, internet, that we speak English, that
we are educated. Getting a BA here is nothing. Everyone has a BA.?
[In fact, Palestinians are among the most educated people in the
world.]
?I don?t have any problems
with Jews. I have no problem with the Jewish religion. I have a
problem with the Israelis who are occupying us.?
Our meeting was with Ghassan Andoni,
Yassir Darwish, and 8 students from Birzeit University. The students
were all women ? there were two men who were supposed to join
the group but because we arrived late due to checkpoint issues,
they had a class they had to go to and could not meet with us. As
with any group of people, the women we met came with a diversity
of experiences and perspectives. And since I?m taking a moment
to dispel some stereotypes, I?ll mention that there was also
a big range in dress, including women who did and women who did
not wear a hijab. But whether or not someone did was not a predictor
of how revealing or modest the rest of her clothes were. And clothes
were certainly not an indicator of a person?s political stances.
It was a woman wearing stretch-pants, a hot-pink baby tee, makeup
and sporting meticulously styled hair who expressed the greatest
amount of cynicism with Israelis who want to have peace camps and
dialogue groups ?while they are killing us and destroying
our lives.? Her main hope lies with Hizbullah. (Which, to
dispel another stereotype, should not be confused with support for
suicide bombings. Everyone we have met here distinguishes between
armed resistance against the Israeli military and suicide bombings
that deliberately target civilians.)
Another student expressed her frustration
by saying, ?The hardest thing is to live in insecurity, never
knowing what will happen tomorrow. And feeling like your hands are
tied, that you?re powerless to do anything for people you
care about.?
One form most of these students?
resistance to the occupation takes is precisely in trying to do
something for the people they care about, through staying in school
and building civil society institutions and through helping the
PA and other service-providers. But even staying in school is a
challenge under occupation:
During the first intifada, the university
was closed more than 15 times for ?security? reasons,
generally for six months at a time, once for consecutive six-month
periods adding up to four years. As Yassir put it, ?It is
a strange logic to close the university for security, since when
it is closed, the students spend more of their time fighting the
occupation rather than studying. And they closed kindergartens,
too ? what security threat does a three or four year old child
pose?? When the university set up classes in mosques and churches
during these closures, a curfew was imposed (that is, people were
unable to leave their homes on a 24 hour/day basis) to prevent these
?illegal educational cells.? During the second intifada,
international pressure made such closures less politically viable
for Israel so the state reverted to other measures of interrupting
education. Now, students are held up at checkpoints, especially
around exam time when dozens are arrested and then released (but
not in time to take their exams). If you don?t take your exams,
you lose a full semester of school. The combination of checkpoints,
road blocks, and a strict pass system that limits students?
movements from one area of the West Bank to another has turned what
was once a national university into one that mostly serves students
from Jerusalem and Ramallah. And even students who come from Jerusalem
have to pass through three checkpoints on their way to school, meaning
that in order to make it to an 8am class, they need to leave home
by 5am. Students who can afford to find a place to live near the
university. There are no dorms on campus, however, as this would
serve as an excuse for the Israeli army to invade the campus with
their tanks, something they have already done five times even without
a resident student population present. There are not only hardships
for students. The university has lost much of its foreign faculty
due to Israel?s entry/re-entry policies that make traveling
to and from Palestine difficult. The permit laws have also made
it difficult for local faculty to participate in an academic community
? it is hard to get permission to attend international conferences
and even when permission is secured, the checkpoints and roadblocks
mentioned above mean that it takes 2-3 days to travel to Jordan
in order to catch a plane. As a result of all these issues, local
faculty have started accepting positions elsewhere as well. As Ghassan
put it, ?We are under a severe Israeli boycott.?
Ghassan also provided an overview of
the larger context:
?During the ten years of the
so-called peace process, settlements and checkpoints actually increased.
And this happened even more under liberal governments than under
right-wing ones. The prospect for civil resistance is still there.
But it is localized. And the major problem is that it is only possible
when hope is created, not when people are desperate and trying to
survive. Survival is a very dangerous concept. There is no hope
in the international community anymore among Palestinians. No one
believes that if you have a just cause and play decent and honest
and human, that people will pay attention and say, ?let?s
give them their rights back.? Palestine used to be a very
secular society. But even I?m not so secular anymore. A part
of me is a conservative Muslim now. [For those who do not know,
Ghassan is Christian.] One source of hope, though, is this young
generation that?s hitting a wall with no future. Only 10%
of them will get jobs. And many will not get jobs with their degrees
but will become cheap labor for Israel. And yet they are still motivated
to learn, to compete, to seek excellence. They are much more hopeful
than me. They are still dreamers. And dreamers can bring about a
better future.? Turning to address the students directly,
Ghassan adds, ?Keep your dreams, touch reality, and be wise.?
We also had the opportunity to meet
with some Israeli students from Hebrew University. Again, it was
a group of all women (five), with the exception of the organizer.
These students also spoke about frustrations with their school being
closed (though for them it was a situation of one day or three weeks)
and about having to open their bags for a soldier before entering
campus. They, too, talked about the difficulty of living with insecurity.
But what was discouraging was that four out of five of them saw
their fear as a justification for Israel?s policies rather
than considering that Israel?s policies are what ultimately
produce the fear that they feel. So for them, the way forward focused
on education and dialogue groups. Coming face to face with Palestinians
so that both sides can get over their fear of the other and reduce
animosity. For the Palestinians, however, the animosity does not
have to do with individual Israelis. Many work closely with Israelis
who are committed to ending the occupation. They differentiate,
however, between those who talk in vague terms about wanting peace
and who can then feel good about themselves because they have a
conversation with a Palestinian once a week versus those Israelis
who are active in the nonviolent Palestinian liberation movements,
putting their names and lives on the line alongside the Palestinian
activists. The animosity I heard expressed by Palestinians was directed
at Israeli policies and at those Israelis (and internationals) who
support those policies even if they do so with a sigh, expressing,
as one of the Hebrew University students did, how sad it is that
sometimes these ?necessary? measures of military oppression
and the apartheid wall are ?difficult, ugly, and immoral.?
People talk a lot about suicide bombers.
There are extremists on both sides of this conflict, people whose
actions are not applauded by the majority of whichever population
they come from. (To learn more about Israeli extremists, check out
KACH and read about the Hebron settlers.) People also talk a lot
about stone-throwers. Stone-throwing might be considered a more
mainstream activity among Palestinians (though many discourage it
as an ineffective tactic). However, wandering the streets with automatic
weapons is a mainstream activity among Israelis. And not only among
soldiers ? civilians, too! I have never seen such a militarized
society, and I grew up on a US military base. The government is
made up of former generals, soldiers are teachers in elementary
and high school, most social service benefits depend on having served
time in the military, and even ad campaigns feature soldiers. Many
Israelis have told me they don?t really even notice all the
uniforms and weapons around them. It is just normal. I have no doubt
that the fear is very real on both sides. However, the realities
of this conflict are so asymmetrical that it is insulting to insist
on ?balance.? In fact, insisting on balance is akin
to throwing your support behind the oppressor. Israelis who recognize
the imbalance of this situation, who recognize the vast power disparities,
and are working to change those, are welcome partners to all the
Palestinians I spoke with. Those who want to pretend we are all
equals coming to a negotiating table, however, those are the people
who have disappointed over and over again. Those are the people
who (even if inadvertently or unintentionally) end up legitimizing
inaction on the part of Israel and the US, who point and say: look,
talks are happening and people are still throwing stones. And when
Palestinians decide to put a moratorium on those kinds of dialogue
groups in order not to normalize relations with Israel until the
occupation is ended, then they are the ones who are blamed for not
being partners in peace.
So this is my plea to everyone in the
US: if you really want peace for this conflict, insist that Israel
(with enormous support from the US) ends the occupation. No excuses.
No prerequisites. Ending the occupation IS the prerequisite for
negotiations and for a just peace.
-- Cecilia Lucas
American Friends Service
Committee Youth Projects
The majority of Palestinians are young?by
2016, 65-75% in the Middle East will be less than 25 years old.
Poverty and unemployment are widespread and becoming ever more so
due to the Occupation?s curbing of physical mobility needed
for commuting to work. One third of the population growth is immigrating,
and for those who stay, life is increasingly constricted.
On Sunday, June 3, at Ramallah Friends
Center we learned from two staff members, Saida and Thuqan, and
one intern, Deema, about American Friends Service Committee work
with young Palestinians. Groups of young adults (from l8 to 25)
learn in one hundred hours of training (focusing on democracy, skills,
attitudes, and group work) how to develop the awareness in younger
students that they have the right to decide what they want to do
and how to accomplish it. The emphasis is on creative thinking and
communication to diagnose and solve problems. Instead of looking
at adolescents in this harsh environment through a deficit lens
that views them as the needy recipients of other people?s
largesse of time and material resources, the young adult coaches
view the slightly younger teenagers as, like themselves, powerful
agents of change in their communities: ?You are not only the
builders of the future, but the citizens of today.?
Deema?s experience with the Quakers
began nearly ten years ago. Now pursuing her undergraduate degree,
she remains an enthusiastic volunteer, who shared with us an account
of an exciting project she had been part. It was a Diary Project
at St. Joseph?s School in Bethlehem. Having lived through
the curfews and invasions of the IDF soldiers into their city in
the first Intifada, the girls (ages 13 to 15) were dealing with
the traumatic events of re-invasions. They collected oral histories
of the experiences of family and friends, writing these first as
stories, then (with help from a theatre group) shaping these narratives
into a dramatic script which they performed for their community.
The performances included time for audience response. Eventually
the play was translated to be shared in the US where, as Deema noted
(having visited the States through AFSC auspices last summer) the
image of Palestinians is so often shockingly at odds with the reality.
At three refugee camps, five trainers
helped the youth express feelings, desires, and hopes by bringing
visual art into their range of options for communication. For seven
months they were taught by artists in a variety of media, and then
painted large murals on the walls of the concrete buildings in their
camps. We had seen some of these paintings at Deheisha in Bethlehem
and been impressed by their skill as well as moved by the intensity
of feeling they communicate.
We walked through to the Friends School
for Boys (now coed?but names change slowly!) to see the large
organic garden which has been the fruit of this same AFSC strategy
of empowering youth to make a difference in their communities. While
most of the projects take place in remote locations, this one was
only five minutes away from the busy center of Ramallah. The young
adult who oversees this project met us there to explain the various
crops and agricultural techniques. The garden is the focus of a
summer camp for children five to twelve years of age, and many schools
come to learn about the process. Through brochures and the labeling
of plants, information is shared with the community, along with
the produce itself which is sold locally.
The statistics were impressive: 177
coaches, 1,759 participants, with annual budget of $185,000 and
$65,000 for projects. Other projects we learned about included analyzing
the conflicts in the region, looking at Jordan Lebanon and Iraq;
planting trees around a school; developing a library in a refugee
community. What struck me most of all about the AFSC programs was
the emphasis on creative thinking. The staff and the intern conveyed
hope by their commitment to nurturing the capacity to make meaning
and initiate positive change in the midst of loss and suffering.
Against all odds, the program supports young people helping other
younger people to discover that the answer to ?How??
is ?Yes.?
--Beth Keiser
Donate to help support Interfaith Peace-Builders:
https://www.forusa.org/programs/ipb/donation/
|