Picnic at Rameen
Report from a Devon-based ISM member in Palestine. Dated: 18/10/03
Hello
Hope you are all well.
I am in Jenin for a short visit and spent the morning in Al-Mutila
village
who is cureently losing all of its land to the Apartheid Wall, you can
read
the report below. Please forward it widely.
Many thanks.
Martial
Al-Mutila
The village of Al-Mutila, east of Jenin, will loose most of its land due
to
the construction of the Apartheid Wall.
The villagers are denied access to their land, as a huge part of it,
around
500 dunnums, will be on the other side of the wall, and no gates have
been
planned along the route of the fence which will nearly encircle
Al-Mutila.
While 250 dunnums of land were lost to the construction of the Wall,
another
huge tract of land is now out of bounds for the farmers of the village
as
they are prevented by Israeli security, accompanied by dogs, to access
the
land on this side of the wall currently being built. This 'security'
zone
extends to one kilometer from the path of the wall, up close to the
village,
and any Palestinian trying to work on its land faces severe beatings by
the
'security', as has happened in the past.
Villagers of Al-Mutila have been prevented to reach their land since
last
October, for the important olive harvest, up to now when they are in
need to
work on their land as it is the planting season for many crops.
The wall, which goes deep inside the west-bank, about 15 kilometers so
far,
also means a loss of water resources as many cisterns have been
demolished
among them some dating back to Roman times, a loss of pastures for the
numerous livestock, damage to some of the houses in the village due to
the
dynamite explosion used by the Israeli contractors to build the wall and
the
loss of a nearby forest used for recreational purposes and fire wood.
One farmer lost all of its land and another one who has been working
this
land since 1951, lost hundreds of olive trees, around 100 almond and
dozens
of caroub trees to the apartheid wall.
One of the farmers told us: "Now this wall is all around our village,
life
here is like being in a prison." The majority of the population of 250
in
Al-Mutila will be severely affected by the Apartheid Wall as 25 families
have lost some land. There is no sign of any compensation program or aid
for
the loss of land, and even then, as one farmer put it: "We not only lost
our
land but our lives and our youth and our future" and nothing short of
restitution and compensation by the Israeli government will replace
these.
While Israeli farmers are invited to use the land on the other side of
the
Wall, the inhabitants of Al-Mutila are regularly terrorized by Israeli
Occupation Forces who carry out night time incursions and impose random
curfew and closures. Altogether this amounts to nothing less than forced
expropriation and ultimately expulsion.
Lunch with Arafat, bullets from Sharon
This week has been an unusual one in my life as a retired teacher and community worker. Not for me the quiet rural splendour of my new home in Devon. No chickens to feed, no meal to cook, no cool nip in the autumn air and no guitar to strum. There I was sat only yards from Yasser Arafat in the modest banqueting hall, perched amid the shelled out ruins of the last Israeli siege of the president's compound.
I watched as the president's eyes cast around the table and as he smiled at the Cavanese male voice choir who once more broke into song. Reminiscent of the swelling power and harmony of Welsh male-voiced choirs they sang 'Bella Cia' and 'Addio Comagni'.
I had arrived in Palestine under the guidance of the International Solidarity Movement, a non-violent solidarity movement with the Palestinian cause. Their intent and ours was to work with the Palestinian farmers whose olive groves had been annexed by the immense structure known here as the apartheid wall.
The task was to peacefully assist them to cross the many armed checkpoints and gates in the wall and to work with them at picking and collecting the olives. A seemingly safe and gentle occupation. Yet here I was in perhaps the most dangerous place in the world at that very moment - Yasser Arafat's presidential home.
Dangerous, because for a month or so the Israeli government had talked about seizing and expelling the Palestinian President. Backed by the U.S.A., the Israeli army, the fourth most well-equipped force in the world, was quite capable of achieving this goal if they once decided to act upon it.
The catalyst, for this possibility now occurring, had come when Hanadi Jaradat, an intelligent and attractive young woman of 27 years, strapped a package of explosives to her body, entered a Haifa restaurant and detonated herself and 19 others into oblivion.
When we heard the news on the second ISM orientation day I wondered what kind of pressure or desperation had caused such an act of self-negating destruction and indifference to the fate of other human beings. I hoped to find out in the coming weeks but for now I thrust such thoughts aside as the large group of assembled peace activists discussed how this effected our solidarity work with the Palestinian people.
We decided to divide ourselves into two groups, one to work with the olive farmers and another to go to the Presidential Palace. Our reason for going was simple. We did not need to agree with what a person stood for to defend their right to live. Nor did we need to agree with the political process of Palestine to defend the Palestinian people's right to select or de-select their own President without outside interference.
So there I was, part of a twenty plus group of peace activists from around the world, including Israeli nationals, sat around a long table with Yasser Arafat at the topmost pa phoned for reinforcements. This startled everyone for it seemed a very minor and un-provoked event.
The discussion died down after ten minutes or so and the others on the opposite side of the fence sat back down again. More soldiers arrived and the Palestinian was arrested. Again the internationals protested but to no avail.
The man's hands were placed behind his back and he was forced onto his knees and then blindfolded. More of us on our side went over to the fence to take photos and complain. Other internationals also made complaints and two where arrested and put in a jeep.
Further soldiers arrived and another Palestinian was arrested, handcuffed behind his back, forced to kneel down at the side of the other arrested person and blindfolded. It looked for all the world like those scenes during the Vietnam war in the late 1960's where Vietcong had their arms tied behind their back, blindfolded, forced to kneel and then were shot in the back of the head. "Good god'; said one of the observers on our side, "they are going to shoot them".
The senior officer came over to us who were at the other side of the fence and ordered us to go back. Someone asked to be shown the written order that prevented us from waiting at the other side for our friends. The officer, visibly angry by now, came back with a sheet containing hebrew writing. No one on our side could read this and we said so.
The soldier then became really angry and said we had sixty seconds to get back one kilometre from the fence. This was unrealistic but we walked back to our previous position to which they had not objected before and watched from there.
Gas in Jayyous
No sooner had we reached this spot under an olive tree when teargas bombs were aimed at us. Two landed at my feet, one narrowly missing my leg as it bounced past. They both exploded emitting a noxious grey/white substance which burned and seared my throat, lungs and eyes. As we moved backward and to one side, another exploded just behind us and some of us began to retreat at brisk pace to get clear.
Young children were crying and women were screaming, one youth passed out momentarily on the ground. Some of our group managed to get to one side and escaped breathing the gas in. When it dispersed, more bombs were fired, but this time we moved upwind of them and avoided breathing the stuff in.
This clearly annoyed the soldiers who then came through the gate and ran up the path trying to catch some of the Palestinian young boys of twelve or thirteen, who shouted taunts at them. They didn't try to arrest any more internationals and I kept well away from them to protect myself and the photos I had taken. (I hope they turn out alright).
The soldiers retreated back behind the fence and calm was restored. We reassembled near the outer gate and awaited the stragglers returning from the olive picking. They arrived and everyone was allowed through. We greeted them and walked back up the long slope to the village as night steadily descended. The nearly full moon hung in the warm evening sky like a luminescent jewel with the planet Mars glinting pinkly to one side of it.
I couldn't help thinking how beautiful the natural world was and how the greed, racism, sectarianism and authoritarianism of a few spoiled the human enjoyment of this marvellous planet. An old man with a donkey and cart passed by me, his wife sat in the cart stony faced and silent while he walked beside it. He greeted me with a brief smile and "welcome" spoken in English. This was a wry and ironic comment, in one sense, for it was spoken in a 'holy land' which is clearly no longer held to be holy by its illegally occupying forces and by a member of a people who have lived there for centuries, but are no longer welcome in it.
Behind the lines at Tulkalm
In places this country is so beautiful yet the lives of many of its people have become scarred by the illegal occupation of their land. This week we travelled along a dusty tarmac road to reach our next destination - Tulkalm.
A mobile checkpoint staffed by two young soldiers refused to let us through to the permanent checkpoint half a mile ahead, so we decided to try another route on the other side of the city. This entailed a long circuitous route through a long valley up winding boulder-strewn roads. Believe me this was no picnic.
Finally we reached a tarmac road and had to walk, with our luggage the 2 miles to the checkpoint for no driver dared take us there. The soldiers had threatened to arrest any driver found on the road so our driver reluctantly turned back and left us to our journey.
I hoped desperately that we would get through for the thought of the return 2 miles on foot with arms full of luggage was daunting. We were not alone in our hot, sweaty footslogging. Palestinian men and women were travelling both ways on foot with their packages in their arms and an occasional one carrying a bundle on their heads.
We finally reached the checkpoint and after much delay and scrutiny we were allowed through. Once through the barrier, an eager taxi driver sped us to our destination - the town centre of Tulkalm.
The town centre was calm but bustling with cafes and stores open for business, but not for long. We heard another suicide bomber had blown himself up at another Tulkalm checkpoint, injuring two soldiers. Armoured vehicles swarmed into the town and people were running and shouting. Shop doors were being hastily shut and windows shuttered.
Minutes before we had been eating falafel, drinking tea and sauntering along streets lined with goods and shoppers. Now it looked like a ghost town as we looked down from our fourth floor window and listened to the now familiar explosions of teargas bombs being fired into nearby streets.
After an hour things quietened down, but everything remained shut. The town was under curfew. I wondered how commerce could really flourish under such conditions. Checkpoints, traffic bans, curfews, and incursions. It would be impossible to hold down a job even if you could find one. Children regularly found it difficult to go to school as checkpoints were closed and no-one allowed through.
It would be difficult to start a business or sustain one under restrictions as draconian as these. The best one could do would be to stay in one's town or village and try to survive as best you could. Which was just what the village of Rameen was trying to do when they asked for help from International Solidarity Movement peace volunteers.
Picnic at Rameen
I was sat in a sunny Olive grove under the protective shade of a tree. I was with a Rameen family having a picnic after helping them pick their olives from trees growing near an Israeli illegal settlement and with an army checkpoint nearby.
Madjt, Ahmed, Druro and Sundus, the children of the family sat beside me, their inquisitive eyes and mischievous grins gave lie to the frequent stereotype. They are typical of children the world over. How would they grow up, I wondered? Would they eventually become alienated and desperate? I hoped not.
Their parents and the villagers of Rameen are so friendly and welcoming. People come out of their houses to say hello and shake our hands every time we come back from the olive fields. Nothing is too much for them in their genuine hospitality.
During one evening sat in a Palestinian family's home I thought once again of the children present and of the young woman, Hanadi Jaradat. What could have driven here to blow herself to bits and take other people with her? I read in the Israeli newspapers that the Israeli soldiers had killed her father and her fiancé. Perhaps this was enough fort her to consider a revenge killing.
But why a restaurant and why take out innocents? The story must be more complex than this. Every illegal, forced occupation of a territory has produced acts of sabotage and killings of soldiers. British Imperial history is full of such events.
The history of the second world war saw resistance movements in France, Poland, Sweden and many other occupied countries who were called terrorists by the occupying German forces. Nearer to our own time, Northern Ireland, Afghanistan and Iraq have provided and still provide examples of terrorist attacks upon the occupying forces.
Indeed such acts of resistance, horrible as they are to a peace activist, have been accepted by the UN as legitimate. So why do certain groups such as the IRA and those in Palestine and Israel target innocent civilians?
The answer I feel lies in the sectarian characteristics of certain groups and individuals (religious or political) who think only they have the 'correct' principles, tactics and strategies in any struggle against oppression. The dogmatic certainty of such individuals and groups allows them to contemplate any act against all who do not share the totality of their views.
Even former members and colleagues in their own organisations can become targets if they dare to criticise. Innocents whether they are targeted or collateral damage are just sacrificial pawns in their distorted view of the struggle against oppression. In this way they finish up the mirror image of the sectarian zealots currently controlling the Israeli political system.
Hanadi, having decided she no longer had the will to live, and thinking of revenge, must have put herself under the direction of such sectarian terrorists. Her justified anger and despair at the economic and social dislocation, caused by the illegal occupation, compounded by the loss of her loved ones, must have pushed her into self-negating desperation.
Perhaps this state of mind led into the arms of the sectarian terrorists who then directed her into the restaurant, convincing her that such an act would help the Palestinian struggle. But it will not. Terrorism against innocent civilians is always counter-productive.
The civilians on both sides start to fear their own sectarians as well as those on the other side. Fear and anxiety can paralyse people's positive humanity into passivity and negativeness. This point could be illustrated by reference to the effects of the Inquisitional terror of the middle ages, that in the French revolution and that imposed by the Bolshevik under Stalin, but it was also illustrated during a discussion with Israeli soldiers this week at a checkpoint.
Even the most obstinate one declared he was not against all Arabs, only the terrorists. All said they did not like what they were doing, but they had orders to follow. We reminded them of those soldiers who had refused to carry out orders and the pilots who had refused to fly against civilian targets. We noted that there were many Israeli peace activists and supporters of Palestinian rights. I said we are often like pawns in some larger political game played by Governments and the Military.
He agreed, but he and his comrades were not at the point of becoming refusniks, for too much was at stake, their future careers, their status with their colleagues and other people, their fear for their families and friends. Some expressed a hatred for what the illegal settlers stood for and had little respect for the politicians and high command, they felt locked into a position, not entirely of their own making and fearful of their own safety.
Could it be that there are just a few - in key positions - on both sides who do not want a peaceful solution and are bent upon continuing the conflict and dragging everyone else into it?
Contact Webmeister: fuad@exeterpsc.org.uk
All text and graphics © Exeter PSC 2003-7, and/or their respective owners.
