South Hebron Hills

April 11, 2015

Yesterday I traveled to the South Hebron Hills with All That's Left and Taayush for a day of education about the situation facing Palestinians in this region. Taayush is an organization of "Israelis & Palestinians striving together to end the Israeli occupation and to achieve full civil equality through daily non-violent direct-action." 

For all that we saw, see my tweets here.

The area of the South Hebron Hills is in Zone C of the Palestinian territories, and while approximately 4,000 Palestinians live there now, there is an implicit and explicit effort being made to push the remaining people off their lands to other villages or towns in order to annex the remaining land.

Amiel, our guide, was an Israeli who has worked and volunteered with Taayush for over 12 years. He has dedicated every weekend to coming to the South Hebron Hills. One friend of mine told me that he is a permanent fixture at every protest or event within Jerusalem, Hebron and the surrounding areas. His family is a dynasty amongst lefty activists. Yet he is a modest man, traipsing quietly through the grass, with his two young girls following behind him, leading the way to the house of yet another friend.

Amiel showed us the area on maps and explained how in the hills and within the valleys, there are 24 unrecognized Palestinian villages which each face different threats to their continued existence.These villages have been expelled and demolished over and over again since the second Intifada. Some have been relocated many times due to reasons such as the establishment of a military firing zone through the middle of the valley, or due to the declaration of the land as an archaeological site.

The map is now a crisscrossing puzzle of Zones A and B and C zigzagging and undermining each other. He joked with us that he understands the borders better than the soldiers and that they even follow his advice. 

We spoke with a family who lives in Susiya. Susiya is currently made up of only a few tents on top of a hill, with no access to water, a crumbling road, and infrequent electricity. There is a standing demolition order for the village, and the Supreme Court of Israel is currently delaying passing judgement on whether or not the demolition order is legal. One man described to us how his grandfather was expelled from his village by Israel in 1948 and carried his father to the new village. Then in 1986 when the villagers were expelled again, his own father carried him from the second side of the village to where Susiya is located today. He then told us how he does not wish to carry his own children to a new place if they are expelled again. His story was left lingering in the air, and yet the prophetic parallelism seems inevitable.

We visited  with Um Takir who lives down the hill from Susiya. Her and her husband are the last remaining family living on the side of the hill next to the road leading down into the firing zone. She recounted how her husband was shot one year in the eye, and had to be fed through feeding tube through his nose for a year afterwards. She told us how the settlers come in the night to break her solar panels and cut the hose to her water tank. Their last neighbor just moved his whole family to Yatta, a neighboring recognized city, after he was violently attacked by settlers and after returning from the hospital, retaliated against them. His response led to the hospitalization of 3 settlers. He is now waiting for the hearing to his court case, and Um Takir is left alone in the valley. Soldiers are stationed nearby, but the positioning of her house on the hillside hides it almost completely from outside eyes.

It was incredibly dismal to look at the crumbling stone walls of the last remaining house of a village. She and her husband stand as the final barrier to the annexation of a huge section of the valley and the end of an historical identity tied to that land. Um Takir told us that she will not leave this house unless she is martyred. 

I was struck by the labyrinthine and seemingly insurmountable details of the situation. We listened and toured and walked for over 6 hours, and yet I walked away being more confused than when I arrived. It is all a jumble of court-cases, military law overriding civilian law, water pipes, permits, violence, demolitions, donations, systemic oppression and paradoxical objectives; and then it is all bound together by a few fierce individuals with a relentless attachment to their land, a desire to live in dignity, and a refusal to be forcefully pushed out. And in the backdrop, 18 year old soldiers are standing around bored with huge guns.

There was one  surreal moment that stuck with me: as we stood by the side of the road, 5 soldiers came from the nearby settlement and began to walk across a field of flowers. They were wearing all their gear, carrying huge rifles and the birds were singing in the background as if this was the most peaceful nature walk to ever take place. The sky was so blue and spring was so bright. I caught eyes with a friend of mine and we both just shook our heads at the dissonance of the moment.

For a more in depth account of what has happened in the South Hebron Hills over the years and attempts at resistance, court cases, and violence, see here and here. Breaking the Silence also holds tours in the South Hebron Hills. And stay tuned, All That's Left will be organizing an action of partnership this summer with Jews from the Diaspora aimed to alleviate some of the challenges these Palestinians face.

Pains of Exodus

Manel Tamimi, January 2015

April 3, 2015

I met Manel Tamimi while traveling through the West Bank in January. She welcomed us into her home in Nabi Saleh and spoke with us about the horrors her family faces under occupation.

Nabi Saleh is a well known friction point for resistance and holds weekly protests every Friday. The village organizes itself and attempts to walk from their homes across the valley to the spring that used to belong to them. The spring is now a part of the settlement which was built above it. There’s a brilliant profile in the New York Times that describes the Tamimi family and the village.

Manel told us that she classifies herself as a non-violent resistor, but could not call herself peaceful. She said,”I can’t be peaceful in that moment when an Israeli soldier enters my house to arrest my 14 year old son. When I’m watching 2 of my cousins dying in front of me. When my 8 year old faints after being shot with tear gas and the soldier is smiling. Yet, I am nonviolent because a mothers pain is the same pain. I refuse any mother to experience this pain because I’ve experienced it. I understand the meaning of losing your beloved and waiting for your beloved.”

Manel was shot by an Israeli soldier in the leg today with live ammo during the weekly protest.

I heard about this as I am heading to my family’s kibbutz in the south to celebrate Passover—a holiday that marks the freedom of the Jews from slavery in Egypt and their arrival to the land of milk and honey. It is my family’s tradition to have long conversations that are interrupted by food and singing all night long. We often discuss the idea of freedom and I have grown up repeating every year that we are not free until all peoples are free. This sentence has never rung more true for me than in this moment. While we were talking with Manel, she said “Even if one day we free Palestine, I am going to fight for others. Because if you are a human you are going to fight against the pain of others.”

There is weird parallelism in being here in Israel, on my way to the Kibbutz which was founded in 1953, to be surrounded by cousins and tradition, and to know at the same time that across the wall, not so far away, people are hurting because of this claim to this land.

International Women's Day March at Qalandiya Checkpoint

March 7, 2015

Busy week since I've returned. On Wednesday there was a March of over 3,000 women who stood outside the Knesset demanding peace. The event was organized by a new group that formed after the war this summer, Women Wage Peace. The garden across from the parliament was full of Jewish and Palestinian women who gathered to demand peace.

Then this morning I was at Qalandiya checkpoint, the crossing between Jerusalem and Ramallah, with many women who were protesting against the occupation for International Women's Day. The nonviolent demonstration was organized by many feminist groups in Israel and Palestine including Women in Black, Mahsom Watch, Women against Violence, Democratic Women and 40 Mothers. I'm doing research for my masters on women peace movements in Israel/Palestine and the week proved to be first-hand research. Women were all ages, but I spoke with some of the founding matriarchs.

So there we stood on one side of the wall while Palestinian women from the West Bank stood on the other side; united by solidarity, divided by concrete. I joined some of the founding feminists in Israel over 60yrs old, Palestinian women from the North, young women from North and South, and internationals. We chanted, we held signs, we banged drums. One scrawny little woman wearing a straw-hat came up to me and handed me a page telling me to vote for the Joint-Arab list. She described to me how she immigrated to Israel from Canada in order that when she was arrested for protesting, they would be forced to honor her rights. She was spunky and radical and in her late 60s. Another woman and her daughter were part of Women in Black and held a big sign that said "Women against occupation." The daughter was my age and said that she has been standing on street corners and junctions with her mom for 10 years with that sign. A Palestinian woman and I began to talk about the event and her group "Women for Democracy" as the tear gas wafted over the wall towards us. We had to stop talking because breathing led to instant coughing.

From the other side of the wall, our Palestinian compatriots were hit with tear gas—not once, not twice, but three times. We only caught whiffs of it as the wind blew it our way, but it was enough to make me still gag hours later. 15 women were reportedly injured and several rushed to the hospital due to over exposure to tear gas. A peaceful, nonviolent protest for women's rights and it was met by teargas.

Here's to the brave women standing on the other side of the wall from me. And here's for the feeling of hope I had being surrounded by these strong, thoughtful, creative women who are fighting for a change. There's another protest tonight in Tel Aviv, it's being called "Israel wants Change" and is promising to fill Rabin square with people demanding a change in government.

Election season is in full swing here. Stay tuned!

Student Protest @ Hebrew University

November 11, 2014
Palestinian groups on campus organized and received permits for a protest against the death of the 22 year old in Kfar Kana,  an event that some likened to Palestine's Ferguson but with no results. The protest was met by a counter protest of a national Zionist group on campus. Plenty of security, plenty of security barriers, and plenty of students walking to and from classes were suddenly overwhelmed by chanting and crowds. I stood to the side with a Palestinian friend of mine; she translated the Arabic for me and I translated the Hebrew for her. The Palestinian side was chanting for freedom and against occupation. The Israeli side was yelling against terrorism and singing nationalistic songs. Signs shared similar tones: "They kill me because I'm Palestinian."  Or "Terror has descended by foot." "End the occupation" and "We will overcome terror." The Palestinians held up pictures of the young man killed in Kfar Kana, the Israelis held pictures of the young man who died yesterday in the stabbing attack. I was struck by the fact that not only was each group singing and chanting and yelling in a different language, but they're not even talking about the same things. They both hold up images of their martyrs, but it's a different discussion entirely: Freedom and political rights versus terror and nationhood. The narratives are not on the same page, how do you expect anyone that is on the other "side" of the barrier to listen? No one can even agree on what's wrong.

And on that note, back to class...

For video of the protest click here.