Bethlehem to Nablus: Journey through the Occupation

Bethlehem to Nablus: Journey through the occupation

Driving in the West Bank is a complicated affair. Firstly, because of the political situation; Secondly, because of poor quality roads and signage; thirdly because for us Westerners, especially those used to driving on the left hand side of the road, the “road rules” are hard to manage, particularly when there seems to be an understanding between all animals, people and vehicles on the road that the pushiest and most reckless gets right of way, and there are no such thing as lanes of traffic, indicators or common courtesy. The horn is your friend on the roads of the West Bank. Use it well.

And so we set off perhaps naively on a 3-day road trip of the northern West Bank region, in a Palestinian rental car, with no map or Arabic to speak of. It became clear from within 30 minutes of commencing our journey that it was in fact one of the best ways to see the territories, and to witness first-hand the full extent of the occupation, and how it has reached its fingers deep into the heart of the West Bank, and deep into the minds of the Palestinians.

Something as simple as driving the distance from Beit Sahour to Nablus was a real eye opener. This journey should take little over an hour, but with re-routes forced by the separation wall, settlements and road checks, and of course our ability to lose our way repeatedly, it took over 4 hours. The moment we entered the main roads, they were full of Israeli registered cars, Hebrew road signs, IDF manned gun towers, hill-top, red-roofed settlements, and road-blocks. Many times we watched the huge separation wall in its entire vastness snake along hill-tops, sometimes obviously encircling areas of land, and trailing us for miles on our journey.

With all the absurdity of check-points and imagined borders, and arbitrary rules restricting freedom of movement, can sometimes arise moments of humour. We lost our way at one point, and ended up on the main road to Jerusalem. As we had rented a car with a Palestinian registration plate, we had been told we were unable to cross the green line, and into the areas known as Israel. Unfortunately, as we drove along the main highway towards Jerusalem, and to its main border crossing with the West Bank, we had no choice but to continue, and pull up to the panicked IDF guard on duty, as she glared at our car registration and then us in disbelief. I had wondered as we approached the check-point if it really mattered if the car was Palestinian, as we were not, but her reaction made it clear this was not the case. She began shouting in Hebrew at the private security personnel and pointing her M16 at the registration plate wildly. I must admit, although I hoped they would see the funny side, I was a little alarmed for a moment, but we were courteously tolerated by her supervisor, who stopped traffic so we could reverse our way back into the West Bank, and take a side road back in the direction we had come, much to the disbelief and bemusement of those watching. It seems the IDF have just as an adverse response to the freedom of movement of the vehicles of Palestine as they do its people.

As we drove I found myself, not for the first time, awe struck by the level of Israeli and settler presence in the West Bank. For huge stretches of highway, the red-topped roofs of Israeli settlements scattered every hill top. Some of these settlements are recognised by the Israeli government, and are subject to any discussions going on as part of the “peace talks” regarding settlement expansion, but with over 500,000 settlers already living in the West Bank “legally” under the agreement of the Israeli state, not to mention the “illegal” outposts, and expected expansion, the homes that are already constructed and waiting to be filled in settlements like Ma’ale Adumim, and the extremist and aggressive, sometimes violent tactics of some members of the existing settler population, it is hard to see how the internationally led dialogue under way between the US, Egypt and the governments of Palestine and Israel, can even come close to addressing the issue as it really stands. The roads are full of Hebrew signs, sometimes with Arabic and English translations; Israeli bus stops for the Egged Israeli bus service that serves the settler population of the West Bank; Israeli gas stations; young Jewish Israelis crowding the sidewalks and bus stops outside the settlements; Israeli registered cars moving freely around the West Bank without any of the restrictions that Palestinians undergo; settler-only roads; leafy, tree-lined hilltops and newly paved and constructed roads that are in use by settlers. It is clear for me, that the very notion of the West Bank being a true Palestinian territory is fast becoming a myth.

In contrast to this, you can see the Palestinian villages and towns below the settlements in near ruins. Palestinians find it next to impossible to repair or renovate, expand or build homes in Area C which is under control of the Israeli state. 70% of this land is completely restricted for construction or renovation or planning permission of any kind for Palestinians, and the 30% of land where it is possible, has already been constructed on. As a result Palestinians are forced to build illegally, and this is usually met with house demolitions.  

I passed women wearing head scarves today emerging from make-shift tents, alongside piles of rubble where their houses once stood on land surrounded by olive trees and groves of fruit trees, sitting in the shadow of a settlement. I saw Palestinian children walk over piles of rubble back from school because obviously there was a lack of public bus services. I saw the homes of the Bedouin in the dusty hills beside the motorway, lacking in any security, sanitation, or means of survival.

This disparity, laid out before your eyes in every direction in the West Bank is the real issue of this occupation. You can tell someone to ignore religion, politics, ethnicity and all these things and just take a walk around the land of Palestine and you will see injustice and inequality. It does not always draw a straight line of course. There is injustice and inequality within Palestinian communities – between the refugees from the camps and the reasonable affluent communities of some towns; between women and men in some communities; between people with disabilities and those without; between those of different religious backgrounds – but it is mild and intermittent, and not consistent with any patterns. The injustices and inequality imparted on the Palestinian population by the Israeli state is systematic, intentional, orchestrated, sophisticated and relentless.  It is all around you. The evidence mounts up around you at each turn.

Yet in the news, we hear only of the “peace talks”, of the political haggling that is void of relevance and meaning for a people who have lived through failed “peace agreement” after failed peace agreement – the Madrid Conference in 1991, the Oslo accord in 1993, Oslo II in 1995, the Camp David talks in 2000, and others including Sharm al-Sheikh, the Wye Plantation Memorandum, Camp David II – not to mention numerous UN resolutions. 

Again and again, it seems there is a huge disparity between the international communities’ understanding of the situation, how the international media cover it and the reality on the ground. The “peace process” itself is reliant on the presumption that there exists two states between which negotiations can bring about solutions to a conflict. Every piece of land in the West Bank, every check-point, every settlement, every brutal act or attack on a Palestinians rights and freedoms, every action by the Israeli state, makes it clear that there is no desire, intention or need to withdraw itself from the West Bank or to strive for peace. The sooner the international community rejects the rhetoric of the Israeli state, and accepts the fact that their intention is an entirely colonial one, i.e. to maintain control of the territories of Palestine, and reduce the population of Palestine to becoming occupants of a few ghettoes of Israel’s choosing, the closer we might be to taking meaningful action and addressing the real injustices of this occupation and apartheid regime.

We are not free….

I have been to Hebron on three different occasions now. This visit was a little different than last year, as it was not Friday, the day of prayer and protest, and also because there was not the added tension of the war in Gaza, which was the case last year. In fact today there was a particularly lively atmosphere in the commercial centre; the streets were packed with services, taxis, cars and women in head scarves rushing about laden down with bags. This I imagine was due to the fact that today was a holiday in the Islamic calendar – the Islamic new Year as I was told. Beyond the newer section of the city however, upon entering the old city, and the warren of streets that lead to the soukh, the atmosphere is different. Intermittent shops are closed behind iron doors, some of them welded shut, or with huge iron padlocks on them. Further on, the street is covered by a large metal caging which is lined with rubbish, cement bricks, and debris of various kinds. I am told by the man who chose to accompany us, that this was done by the Israelis. I know from my previous trip here, that the floors above are occupied by the residents of the Tel Rumeida settlement, settlers mainly hailing from the US who have taken up residency in the buildings which were once occupied by Palestinians and Hebronites or Khalili’s as they are known in Palestine.

Our companion takes us to his house, offers us tea and shows us the views from the roof of his home. It’s an old stone house, very basic interior, with modest furniture and no heating from what I can tell, apart from a plug-in electric heater. His wife serves us sweet tea with sage, a popular drink in the winter. From the rooftop, it is clear that this Palestinian home in the centre of the old city of Hebron, is surrounded by Israeli settlements. Water tanks with the Israeli flag are on all the rooftops, the brick work and windows of the buildings are new and modern (though in a style that is relatively similar to the local architecture it must be said), and IDF gun towers are scattered over the surrounding rooftops. Below us is a large basketball court area where a bunch of Israeli children play. They look up at us, shout shalom and smile widely. I can think only how strange an upbringing it must be for them, among all this madness.

We return back downstairs to the living room of the couple. They are friendly and welcoming and introduce their 3 children aged between 5 and 9. The man’s wife is pregnant with twins, though she wears a huge white scarf over her head, shoulder and torso which prevents me from guessing how late in her pregnancy she is. We are scarcely there a few minutes when they explain to us, in broken English that their son has problems with his eyesight. I cannot understand what happened exactly but they say something about the Israelis throwing a stone at him, and he wears thick glasses as testimony to his poor eyesight. They explain that their other son hid under the bed for 3 hours the last time the IDF soldiers entered their home. The children stare at us blankly, unsure who we are or what we are speaking about. The parents tell us that their son must travel to Jordan to see a doctor, but they cannot afford it. They tell us how hard their life is, that work is impossible to find. The man shows us a scar on his chest where he says he was shot by the Israelis, and another scar on his head. At that point the wife asks us if we can help pay for their son to go to a doctor in Jordan. There’s an awkward silence before I answer that we cannot. She looks shocked and disappointed. I then ask how much it would cost. They tell us $30. It’s a shockingly small figure, one that neither of us, despite our modest earnings would miss. It’s an excruciatingly awkward moment, as I muster up a negative response, all the while being watched by the young boy through his thick glasses. The wife smiles, says it’s not a problem. We are then ushered out the door, and down the stone steps to a makeshift stall the man of the house has set up in a burnt out shop unit, selling tourist  paraphernalia. We resort to purchasing a woven purse, that neither of us wants or needs, for a high price of 30 ILS, an embarrassed attempt to give at least something without resorting to charity. We are watched by the woman and the children all the while. Before we leave she asks me to take a photo of her and the children which I do. They smile and wave us off, as we walk away with heavy hearts.

Her husband continues with us for some time, all the time pointing to rooftops and streets and uttering the words “Israelians” in what amounts to his only English vocabulary. I piece together the parts of the history of the city I hear the year before.

The situation in Hebron is perhaps one of the most difficult of many Palestinian cities given the presence of Israeli settlements within the city itself. In addition to the settlements surrounding it (Gush Etizon, Kiryat Arba), five settlements have been built within Hebron dividing the city into two areas H1, and H2. The H1 sector which covers 80% of the municipality of Hebron, is under PALESTINIAN AUTHORITY control. Sector H2, 20% of the city, is under Israeli control which includes part of the old city including the Al-Ibrahimi Mosque and a population of 40,000 Palestinians and 500 settlers. The presence of these settlers, and the IDF soldiers who are there to protect them and sometimes the Palestinians who come under attack from the settlers, explains the tensions in the city. Entire streets are restricted for Israeli settlers and sometimes internationals. Yellow gates bar entry to many of the roads and check-points and security barriers abound. We visit a school for example, full of young Palestinian boys playing soccer in its inner courtyard, that is constantly the scene of violence, as it is located on the same street as a settlement. The school’s pupils are often escorted by international observers as they come under attack from settlers throwing stones on a regular basis.

In reality, this also amounts to the old soukh of the city, a place that once represented the heart of the city, economically and culturally, being a near ghost-town, and highly restricted movement for Palestinians in the area. We speak with one shop owner, Jamal, about the situation. Jamal runs a small shop just a hundred metres from the entrance to the Mosque, selling locally hand-made and crafted goods. He lived in Manchester during the 1980’s and so speaks excellent English, amusingly in a strong Manchester accent. He remembers the hunger strikes of Bobby Sands and has a huge fondness for the Irish. He tells us how his father is 71 years old, and ran the shop before him, and still comes to spend the morning there with him. Sometimes his son also joins them, and all three generations work together. He tells us how bad business has been however, with no tourists coming to the city, and constant closures and pressure from settlers in the area, as well as the businesses around him remaining closed. The street behind his shop is a settler street and he can no longer enter there. Apparently over 1,000 homes and businesses were evacuated and closed down to accommodate the settlers who moved into some houses on the street. We chat a little about the peace process in Ireland, and the current situation. He asks us how it is there. I explain that although tensions still exist within communities, it is not as bad as it once was, and at the end of the day, people can more or less live, work and travel as they wish; that they have a freedom they did not have previously, even if some people wish for a different political solution still. He nods in understanding and tells us that yes it is different in Palestine. “Here,” he says, with moist eyes, “we are not free”. Unfortunately, it would take the blindest of men not to see that what he says is true.

Arrival in the West Bank

The atmosphere in the West Bank, is considerably less tense than when I was last here. Understandable considering the amount of deaths that had just occurred as part of Israel’s “Operation Cast Lead” which took place in December and January of last year. Today, coach loads of tourists pass from hotels in Bethlehem, through the check-point and back into Israel, and shops and traders carry about their business.  You could almost be forgiven for taking the seemingly bustling streets of Bethlehem, Beit Jala and Beit Sahour as an indication of calm and security in this small area of the West Bank, but the little indications of what lies beneath are everywhere.

We travelled through the land border between Jordan and Israel, and were “processed” by a group of giggling, teenage girls with perfect hair and heavily applied make-up. They laughed their way through the whole ordeal, explaining to us that one of them was new to the job, and feeding her the questions she should ask – “why are you travelling to Israel? Who are you staying with? What are their names? When will you return to Jordan?” They were fairly ordinary questions but it was clear that their lack of experience meant we got a lighter treatment than we may have otherwise. A Jordanian woman who was beside us, and was travelling to Ramallah to visit a sick aunt, got a less friendly approach and was questioned much more rigorously. It all would have seemed harmless enough if the girls in question weren’t members of the Israeli “Defence” forces, carrying M16s and in positions which allowed them to take decisions over people’s basic freedom of movement.

Once we passed through I searched for a bus “without yellow plates” as my friend had instructed me, as these buses go through Jerusalem, but we were repeatedly shepherded away from the buses going towards the West Bank by Israeli security personnel, in a friendly but firm manner. So we began the journey, by Service taxi to East Jerusalem, and from there on the 21 bus to Beit Jala, which circumnavigates the outskirts of East Jerusalem, and picked up many of the Palestinians en route back to the West Bank, perhaps after a day working in Israel. This is my preferred route to take into the West Bank, as you are travelling with ordinary Palestinians going about their days, and avoid the trip through the main checkpoint to Bethlehem, which incorporates entering through the wall, and a number of security detectors and checks. Although for internationals, there is minimal hassle at this checkpoint, it always leaves me with a heavy feeling of sadness, watching the locals navigate their way through humiliating questioning, or the incidents of male teenagers with M16s ridiculing and mocking young Muslim women.

Beyond that, it’s a straightforward run by taxi or service to the building where we are staying for the duration of our time in the West Bank. Some local taxi drivers haggle for our custom, but we go with a local man in an old wreck of a car, and invite another young man, who is headed in the same direction to join us. He tells me he is American, though I later find out he is Israeli, and is interested in some of the permaculture projects going on in the territories. It’s not uncommon for young Israeli’s to enter the territories, to find out more about the situation, to protest or to take part in solidarity actions with Palestinians. However, as it is illegal for Israeli’s to enter zone A areas (areas designated to be under the control of the Palestinian Authority as a result of the Oslo Accords II), that is the cities of the West Bank, many do not take the chance of arrest, and many believe it is unsafe to do so.

Within the first few hours back in Beit Sahour, apart from meeting with some familiar faces, and settling into my home for the coming weeks, I was reminded of why it was such an easy place to feel relaxed and comfortable in. The locals, despite the fact that they would see at least a reasonable proportion of foreigners in the town, take the time to welcome you at every opportunity. Walking for ten minutes through the streets, induces many greetings, welcomes, exchanges of basic information and offers of tea or coffee. Beit Sahour is a predominantly Christian town, with 75%  of the population belonging to one of the various Christian faiths, which counts as the largest Christian population of any town in the West Bank and Gaza. The streets are already lined with Christmas lights, many of the houses are lit all year round with stars on their roofs, and there are numerous churches in the small town centre. From an outsiders perspective at least, this does not seem to be to the detriment of the smaller minority Muslim population, who mix and live among the Christian population and are catered for with a number of mosques in the area. The openness and willingness of the locals to engage in conversations on politics, world affairs, travel and speak a good level of English, is perhaps a result of the fact that it also one of the towns with the highest number of university educated people in Palestine, and in fact the Arab world. It is also an interesting hub of activity for internationals and activists with the International Middle East Media Centre, the Alternative Information Centre, the Alternative Tourism Group, the Joint Advocacy Initiative of the YMCA, the Palestinian Centre for Rapprochement between People and many more interesting and innovative projects and initiatives providing in depth information and informative activities for internationals and locals alike to engage with and understand better the political reality of this region.

The Cafe at the Alternative Information Centre is a great example of this. Its run by local Palestinians and international volunteers alike and they host regular talks, concerts, events and activities as well as act as an information point for those interested in the occupation. In the past week I listened to Sandy Tolan, and American historian and journalist, speak about his experience of writing “The Lemon Tree” in which he traced the unlikely story of a meeting and reconciliation of sorts between the off-spring of a Palestinian family living in Ramallah, who had been forcibly removed from their home in Ramleh in 1948, and the Israeli Jewish family which had originally escaped persecution in Romania only to settle in that home. It was a fascinating account of duplicated histories, the complexity of narrative in this conflict, and the victims that can emerge on all sides. Just a few nights ago, we also listened to a number of young students from Haifa University, speak about their experiences of persecution, prejudice and outright discrimination on the part of the university authorities towards Palestinian students. These Palestinians, or ’48 Palestinians, as they are known, having remained in the historical territory of Palestine after the nakba or catastrophe of 1948 (also known as the war of independence in Israel, and the Arab-Israeli war in international lingo), are citizens of Israel in theory, but find themselves being treated as sub-citizens on many levels by Israeli society, and simultaneously being denied the chance to coherently adopt their Palestinian identity as the ones who pay Israeli taxes and have the freedom of movement (at least to some degree) that their fellow Palestinians do not have in the West Bank and Gaza. They are also denied the opportunity to study in Arab universities, for fear of persecution, and cannot meet or organise any kind of cultural or political activities with other Palestinians from the territories without severe pressure and sometimes arrest in Israel. The café allows for local Palestinian students to engage and share their experiences with internationals, while also giving the chance for such dialogue and information sessions to happen, as well as an important social hub for internationals in Beit Sahour.

Beit Sahours other big draw, for those who value such things, is its proximity to the Shepherd’s Fields, or the site where it is claimed that the shepherds watched their flocks by night, when the angel Gabriel appeared to announce to birth of the messiah. There is as a result some tourist presence in the area, but it really is minimal considering its one of the most important sites in Christian narratives. For the most part, as with all tourism to the West Bank, tourists come in large coaches, are shuttled from Israel to certain locations for a fixed and short duration of time, and perhaps allowed a ramble in a predetermined souvenir shop (often with a hefty commission fee for the Israeli tour company in question) and ferried back to the far side of the wall. It’s really only the more independent travellers that actually venture this far, and experience the full extent of the warmth of the Palestinians, and the implications of the occupation on their daily lives. I spoke with many shop owners in the centre of Bethlehem who also spoke of this phenomena and the impact it’s having on their livelihood. Tourism was once the biggest industry for Palestinians in this area, but is year by year decreasing, as Israeli and foreign companies monopolise the market and a few selected local business men profit. Although I hate to see any nation put too many of its eggs in the basket of tourism, it really is an important element and yet another side to the occupation and the profiteering that takes place at the cost of Palestinians. For now Beit Sahour survives, but with the construction of what has been called “New Bethlehem” and the ever increasing monopolisation of the market, it’s unclear if this will be the case in for much longer.

Amman stopover

It felt like quite a long journey to Amman – 3 hours stop-over in London Heathrow, and a delayed wait on the runway for one hour while the crew refuelled. The flight was going on the Addis Ababa after Amman, and carried an eclectic mix of British ex-pats en route to a reunion in Jordan, and families travelling on to Ethiopia, some having travelled from Canada, and other locals of Amman. We spent the journey reading, learning some Arabic and speaking to a man from Oxfordshire, who is heading for the reunion party. He seems fascinated by our trip, and very interested in the reality of life in the West Bank. We speak about the sham that is the “peace process”, the loss of homes and livelihoods in East Jerusalem, the great false hope that Obama embodied for so many, and the extremist settlers in Hebron who have made the city itself a no-go area for many of its residents. I find myself getting animated and outraged just retelling some of the things I’ve seen – in particular the kidnapping and internment of hundreds of young teenagers by Israeli armed forces from the homes in the West Bank. This seems particularly pertinent to bear in mind, when the Israeli state makes such a show of negotiating over the release of 1000+ Palestinian prisoners in the coming weeks. I recall the number of young men of my age I have met in my travels in the West Bank, who have spent periods of detention in Israeli prisons, often from their teenage years, for no or minor offences (throwing a stone in a protest at a soldier). I recall how every night during “operation cast lead” as it was known by the Israeli state, teenagers were snatched from their homes in the villages around the West Bank, without charge or crime. What shocked me most at the time, was how ordinary this seemed to many people from the West Bank, though they conceded it was worse at this particular point. I can’t help but question how great a gesture it is to release thousands of prisoners from Israeli jails, when it seems so many of them have been detained without legitimate charge, and often are minors. Could this possibly be the reason Israel is so keen to keep the number of Palestinian prisoners up – that and of course blatant intimidation of the population of the West Bank? But I hope to write more on that later.

Despite our late arrival, our pick-up from the hotel was waiting, a friendly man with not much English, called Ahmed. We communicated in my pigeon Arabic, and his pigeon English, and it turned out he was a Khalili, or came from Al Khalil, Hebron in Palestine, 15 years ago. He displayed the usual Palestinian hospitality, stopping in a café to buy us a large plastic cup full of steaming hot, silt-laden Arabic coffee that no doubt will have me lying awake into the small hours. We stood on the side of the road, surrounded by cars with spoilers, full of shebab or local youths, with tight jeans and oiled hair, loud Arabic pop playing, being reminded of boys of the same age in any housing estate in Ireland. The street looked over Amman, where the streetlights, the green lights of the minarets, Christmas lights and neon signs illuminated the vast expanse that is the city, and our breath formed on the chilly night air. Onwards to our hotel, we parted with Ahmed, with his business card, offers for more driving, and an invite to come to his home and sample his mothers cooking if we returned to Amman again.

The Hotel Toledo itself is a sterile, but plush affair, largely empty it seems, with small clusters of local men sitting and drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes on the terrace. We walked a little way down the street, to get our bearings, and grab a falafel, met with empty streets, and the odd flash of activity around cafes or fast food joints, where more shebab huddled in their cars outside. This part of Amman at least, seems to sleep, so we will do the same and wait for the imminent roar of traffic or the voice of the Muezzin early in the morning to rise us again. Tomorrow, we begin our journey, and I do what millions of Palestinians in this country cannot do, cross the King Hussein Bridge and return to Palestine.

Is a ceasefire in Gaza the end of this tragedy?

Its been some time since I’ve written, and I guess this week has been one were I slowed down a little, and tried to digest much of what i’d seen and exerienced here, if its possible to ever even begin to make sense of it all. I decided to extend my stay by two weeks, which isn’t a lot of time, but seemed like the right thing to do for me, to allow the chance to cope with the bombardement of information, tragedy, frustration and sadness.

In the past days the Israeli government announced a ceasefire in Gaza, and as I see the worlds attention and fervour and anger on this issue, I can’t help but feel a sense of anxiety that this will ease and pass as the world convinces itself that a ceasefire in Gaza is the solution to the problems this region is seeing. Perhaps this will be yet another story that leaves the headlines of the daily news, and people will slowly forget the affects and outcomes of this war, or the constant violation of human rights that occurs in the occupied land of the West Bank. For me, and for many others I am sure, it is clear that what has happened in Gaza over the past two weeks, is representative of the shocking treatment of the Palestinian people, the complete disregard for human rights, international law and essentially a basic humanity, at the hands of the Israeli government, and its supporters in the US and internationally.

So what can we learn from what has happened in Gaza? The crisis, is far from over, and I am hesitant to even begin to analyse its impact, when we don’t even know the number of dead, or when it will in fact end. Yet its important, before the anger and outrage of the international community dissipates, to contemplate the bigger picture, to recognise that the invasion of Gaza is not an isolated action, but rather one that has a wider context and implications. I strongly believe the Israeli regime is far too sophisticated and agenda-driven, to have carried out this massacre without a foreseen outcome, even it is not the one they are sharing with the world. If they do in fact withdraw now, what they are leaving behind them is a region utterly destroyed in all regards – the morale of the people is crushed, some of the key personalities in the Hamas leadership have been killed, infrastructure (hopsitals, schools, roads, public buildings and so on) have been destroyed, and most importantly lives have been lost, families have been broken, people have been wounded and torn apart emotionally and physically. Is this in fact what Israel had hoped for?

Beyond Gaza, lies the other Palestinian “territory” of the West Bank, the place I have been travelling through, trying to build my knowledge of this conflict, the people, the impact of the policies of the Israeli government here, and their constant military presence. This week I saw more examples of all these things, of the fact that this is an ongoing strategy of occupation and oppression, the most striking with my visit to Hebron.

I had always heard that Hebron was an important place to see, to understand the extent of the occupation in the West Bank, and to experience the most extreme examples of Zionism. Hebron is the largest city in the West Bank and has a population of approximately 180,000 people, among them around 500 Jewish settlers in the center of the city itself. It lies in the land of Judea, and is therefore is one of the four holy cities in Judaism. Since 1967 there has been a presence of Jewish settlers in the city, who are to be differentiated from the Palestinian Jews, who apparently lived in the city in the early 20th century. As always, its not the Jewishness of the people that is the problem, but the fact that the Jewish that are settling there, are Zionists who believe the land of Palestine is rightfully theres. Typically, the settlers in Hebron, are reknowned for being the mst extreme, and often violent. They have on a number of occasions forceably occupied Palestinian homes, and the current situation sees the Israeli army keeping a constant presence, to protect the settlers from the anger of the locals, and in fact the opposite. Just a month or so ago, it was the Israeli army which evacuated a group of settlers from a Palestinian home, sparking of a spate of violence between the two parties.

Hebron itself though, is one of the most spine-chilling examples of the occupation of Palestinian ands and homes, freedoms and security. The once bustling old city, is now marked by the presence of armed Israeli military, of empty stores, of securit checks, and restricted movement for the local population. The entire streets of what was the Gold Souk or market, have been barricaded, closed, and the shops left empty, so the Jewish settlers living above street level in these buildings can do so without fear of interacting with the local population. Palestinian shop owners have been prevented opening and running their businesses, and the locks of these shops have even been welded shut. The streets are nearly empty, particularly of foreigners or tourists and anyone who might bring some income into the city. Shopkeepers eagerly watch my approach, as do the many kids, teenagers and young men selling braclets, flags, or embroidered purses or simply asking for some money. I heard the sentence “just one shekel” uttered to me by numerous kids under the age of five as I walked the streets. A shekel is the equivalent of less than 20 Euro cents.

My guide, a local Palestinian man, took my to the famous Ibrahimi Mosque, where the tomb of Abraham is located. This site is sacred to Jewish and Muslim worshippers alike. Before 1994, it was open to Muslim worship only, but in that year a Brooklyn born Jew, Baruch Goldstein, entered the Mosque and opened fire, killing in the region of between 39 and 52 Muslims (Israeli and Palestinian sources differ) and wounding another 150.Following the attack, the Israeli army imposed a curfew on the 120,000 Palestinians living in the city, while the 400 Jewish residents were allowed to move around freely. Today, the site is split between parts for Jewish and Muslim worship, but it is the local Muslim Palestinians who must pass through 3 checkpoints and security checks to enter the Mosque. The road that leads to the Mosque, which the settlers use to access it, has also been entirely blocked off the local Palestinians.

When I arrived in Hebron, the city was reeling from yet another tragic incident. The day before, a 15 year old Palestinian had been killed with two bullets to the back of his head, following clahses with Israeli military personnel. Media organisations reported that Israeli soldiers provoked the youths, who then responded with stone throwing, which was met with live rounds. The family buried the boy quickly, on that same day, after the evening prayer, to avoid any clashes which have often occurred at the funerals of youths who have died in similar inicidents. There have even been reports of settlers arriving at funerals to provoke the locals.

It is hard for me to understand the motivations of these settlers, though I can usuall empathise with most people. They have come to live in Hebron, in the firm belief that they are the rightful inhabitants of this holy land. Some orthodox Jews strongy appose this approach, and don’t believe that the return of this land to the Jewish people can be done through force. But this particular brand of ultra-militant, extremist zionists have taken the homes and buildings they occpuy in Hebron by all means. As we walked through the city, we were suddenly approached by a group of young, teenage settlers, flanked on all sides by Israeli soldiers, carrying M16s. They are an intimidating site, and as we were forced to pin ourselves up against the walls of the narrow streets, and the group passed by, I heard he clear american english of the teenagers. They were clearly first-generation Israeli, having moved here from the states to live in this manner. This is in fact how the settlers living here move through the streets, the Israeli soldiers acting as a buffer to the violent interctions that might be provoked on either sides.

The most harrowing example of the tensions and injustice in Hebron, I experienced when we visited the home of a family my guide knew well. They live in the old city – where the homes are entered via a narrow stone stairs, that leads to the rooms of the homes above street level. These steps lead onwards to the highest point in the building, where there is a terrace, and views around the city, and towards the nearby settlements. This particular family, live in close and terrfying proximity to an Israeli settlement. Their neighbours in fact have been responsible for numerous atacks. Most recently, they crossed over the roofs onto the terrace of the house, and set fire to a small room at the top of the building. All the remains now, are the charcoaled remains of the walls, and shards of the koran, which they symbolicaly burnt in a tin bucket. They children of the family, aged between 2 and 10 years old, immediately draw me attention to it, and try to urge me to take photos of the ashy room. As a result of these numerous attacks, there is an Israeli soldier posted on a regular basis on the roof of this house, and the family are not allowed to lock the doors of their home. I sat with the children of the family for a while, whom the father apparently has intentionally introduced to as many internationals as possible, to help them overcome the fear they once had of anyone who was not Palestinian, fearing they would harm them. One child from the family died in a fire lit by settlers, while another died after a tear gas cannsiter was fired into the house by Israeli soldiers. My guide told that one of the boys, maybe aged 6, had serious psychoogical problems as a result of the ongoing conflict and living in fear, and would bang his head against walls repeatedly.

Hebron is a sad city, one full of poverty, fear, distrust. One old lady followed us for some time, asking our guide in Arabic where we were from. He replied that we were Irish and German. She continued to probe, and asked him if he was sure we weren’t really Jewish. For some time she followed us eying us suspiciously, and not responding when I tried speaking some arabic to her. But then, I guess such suspicion is understandable in the circumstances that the local population are living.

Maybe its hard to understand how this is all connected to Gaza, if you haven’t been following the complicated history of this conflict, and from none of the super biased sources that are out there. Israeli troops have pulled out of Gaza, the world community is relieved and outraged in equal measures, and there is now talk of the humanitarian relief that will be needed. In Ireland, significant politicians were calling for the expulsion of the Israeli ambassador and an end to trade links with Israel as a result of the war in Gaza. I would ask that this momentum is maintained, and that the international community of activists, clarifies its demands on this issue, and continues using the leverage of economics to put pressure on the Israel government to discontinue its practice of oppression, apartheid and human rights abuses in all of the Palestinian Territories. It is only then, when the Palestinian people are no longer under attack, that they will be in the position to build their own leadership, and in turn be in a position to negogiate for a solution to this conlifct. So long as the abductions, the murders, the illegal settlements, the acquisiton of land and resources, the impingement on the right to freedom of religious worship, to the freedom of expression, and all the other most basic rights that any democracy worth its salt can offer, continue, there will be no resolution to this conflict. And sometimes it seems, that money and economics are the only thing that people and particularly governments stand up and take note of.

Protests and tear gas ….. part II

Bil’in is a village of 1,600 people, located outside Ramallah in the West Bank, Palestine. It has become symbolic of much of what is happening across the West Bank, as it is facing the loss of land and resources, due to the planned construction of the so-called “security wall” and the construction of an Israeli settlement nearby. As a result the village has lost 60% of its land, as well as the destruction of land productivity and the olive groves, which are a crucial element in production and trade. As a result of the planned construction of the wall, the villagers established the Bil’in Committee of Popular Resistance, and protest on a weekly basis, where Israeli and International activists join locals to march against the occupation, and the destruction of their land. I went along this week, to observe the protest and experience yet another element of the Israeli occupation in the West Bank.

Obviously, with the current situation in Gaza as it is, the protest had a double-significance, calling for the end of airstrikes in Gaza, as well as an end to the occupation in the West Bank. The protestors dressed in striped shirts and pants, with badges in the shape of Gaza signifying the badges Holocaust prisoners wore in Europe. They carried signs calling for the end of the Holocaust in Gaza, and walked from the village centre to the fence which marks the demarcation line of the occupied lands. Many of the protestors and those in costume, were children, some as young as five or six years old. As they reached the fence, and opened the first gate, which leads to a buffer zone, between the Israeli soldiers and more fences, the Israelis responded with a tactic which they apparently use on a regular basis. They broadcast noise waves, of very high volume, with high frequencies which were physically difficult to endure. Some people left, others plugged there ears with tissue paper, with little affect, but most responded by standing firm and banging stones or sticks on the metal bars of the fence. The Israelis made a series of announcements in Hebrew, which few understood, and I found out later said that the crowd had ten minutes to disperse. Of course, most of the people didn’t understand this warning, and besides, they felt they had the right to peacefully protest what was happening to their land.

I had been briefed before as to the normal procedures at Bil’in. The people protest, they arrive at the gate to the occupied land, the Israeli soldiers wait for a short time, the children begin to bang the gates, and throw stones, that are far from reaching the soldiers, and instead hit the fences. Shortly afterwards I hear, for the first time in my life, the dull thud and screech of tear gas canisters being shot into the air. The stream of smoke spirals through the air – I watch it closely, since I never have experienced this, nervous that I’ll read its inevitable decline inaccurately. The best thing I find, is to watch the locals, who do this on a weekly basis. The kids laugh, run, tease the incoming tear gas, like a glorified game of cat and mouse. I follow their lead, remembering not to get between them and the soldiers – just months ago a young boy was shot dead by the soldiers here, and in fact this happened again a few weeks ago, following the first protests against Gaza. Its such a horrifically unnatural thing to do – to keep myself from standing defiantly between them and the soldiers with the guns, but I also have the instinct to survive a situation I am not familiar with, routines I am not comfortable in, madness I have not lived my entire life in. I run when they adults run, keep my eye closely on friends, and the soldiers. I swear to myself that the minute they even begin to look as if they might be aiming a gun of any kind, I will run as fast as I can, even though I’m wearing a press jacket and I’ve been told that running makes you a target. On either side of us there are groves of olive trees. They apparently too act as a shelter from the tear gas, and since I don’t have my kafia to protect my breathing (I thought wearing a press jacket and a kafia would be inappropriate), I stay close to the canopy of the olive trees. Most of all, I want to watch for people sustaining injuries, to follow them if they need an ambulance, and record what has happened to them, to record images that will stand as proof to the people who are not here to bear witness to this. I’m not as brave as I would like to be – or rather I have promised not be to so many I feel I cannot be as wreckless in the situation as my instinct urges me to be. As the tear gas increases in frequency, I realise that in fact, despite my retreat I have swallowed some. My throat stings and my eyes tear rapidly. A local man hands me some onion to inhale, which apparently counteracts the affects, and I walk to some areas of fresh air. The feelings quickly pass, but behind me, in the thick of the tear gas smoke, are dozens of children and locals, as well as some internationals.

Tear gas is a chemical compound that agitates the mucus membranes in the eyes, mouth, nose and lungs to cause tearing, pain and even temporary blindness. Apparently dozens of people were affected by it at the march, and experiencing only mild symptoms of it, on three occasions during the march, I can testify as to what an unpleasant experience it is. I saw one man, lying on the ground, coughing and spluttering, having been severely affected by it. I saw many young children coughing and rubbing their eyes, as they tried to ease the affects of it. As the protest progressed, and the Israeli soldiers came closer to the village, marching beyond the gates of the so-called security fence, into the existing territory of Bil’in, tear gas canisters fell closer and closer to the outlying homes of the village – some in gardens, next to domestic goats and the olive trees.

We left the march with the internationals, leaving behind the remains of the kids and locals still clashing with the IDF, Israeli soldiers. One man called us back as we walked away, and knowing that on a weekly basis there are rubber bullets fired, and we hadn’t head any yet, I wondered if our prescence was delaying this part of the weekly routine. Travel in Palestine, largely requires getting a Servise, a mini bus of sorts that stops at whatever point you like. I at up front with the driver, being the last on board. He had broken English, and having asked me where I was from, and what I was doing in Palestine, he began to divulge his own personal, and sad story, as so many Palestinians do. He told me firstly that he was from the village of Nil’in which is a village very similar to Bil’in in its issues with land confiscation and its history of protest and retaliation by Israel. I told him I’d been to Bil’in that day, and he pointed to a teenage boy in the seat behind me. They had both just come from the protest also, and had been at the Thursday protest in Nil’in the previous day. The teenage boys brother, aged 27, and his friend, aged 17, had both been shot in the legs with rubber bullets and were in hospital. He then told me that his best friend son, was killed with three rubber bullets to the head at close range, at a protest in Nil’in in August. Josef was 17 years old.

When I returned to Beit Sahour, I spoke to Iyad, a long-time activist and local of Bil’in filled me in on the reality of the impact and injuries from the protest. 4 people had in fact been injured with rubber bullets, and seven were arrested, including two Israeli activists

Next Thursday and Friday, the protests will continue, as will the unbearable sirens, the tear gas, and the shootings. Just one more side to the Israeli policy in the West Bank.

Incidentally, the construction of the wall and settlements in Bil’in has been taken to the courts, and has been declared illegal by the Israeli supreme court and international courts.

Protests and tear gas….

The War on Gaza and life in the West Bank

It’s been some time since I wrote, but the past week has been an overwhelming flurry of bad news, growing fear, and my own attempt to get a handle on everything that is going on here.

13 days ago now, Israel began a bombardment on the region of the Gaza Strip, where one and a half million Palestinians live. Gaza strip had, since the Oslo Peace Accords of 1993, been governed by the PLO Fatah and its then established Palestinian Authority but Fatah Administartion in Gaza came to an end  after a bloody internal fighting erupted between Hamas(main opposition party) and Fatah forces in June 2007 ( for distrust and corruption reasons among other things) in which the former claimed victory and drove Fatah security forces and poloitical leaders out  of the Gaza Strip into the West Bank. This continual control has allowed Israel, which opposes Hamas’ rule, to control the flow of essential resources to the region, including food and water, electricity, medical supplies and all elements of trade. This situation has led to what the UN deems as humanitarian crisis, but this is contested by Israeli Foreign Affairs Minister Tzipi Livni.

The current situation in Gaza, has apparently escalated due to the breach in the Egyptian negotiated cease-fire. On December 27^th Israeli F-16 fighters launched a series of attacks against targets in Gaza. Those targets included militant bases, a mosque, various Hamas government buildings, a science building in the Islamic University, and a UN operated elementary school in a Palestinian Refugee Camp, as well as numerous other reported civilian targets. According to Israel, the attack was in response to Qasaam rockets that were fired by Hamas into villages in Southern Israel. However, critics of the attacks, say it is a cynical attempt by Israel to increase popular support for the current president in upcoming elections, while others see it as a sophisticated plot to remove Hamas from power, and install Fatah in its place, who’s relations with the Israeli authorities have been considerably more calm than those with Hamas. The fact that Hamas broke the ceasefire is being debated and challenged. Either way, the outcome has been that over 760 Palestinians have been killed since the attacks began, and 3,120 wounded with 200 of them in critical condition. In the attack on the UN school alone, 43 were killed and 100 wounded. Doctors say that all the dead where people either seeking refuge in the school, or residents of the nearby refugee camp. The number of Israeli casualties currently sits at 11, including mainly soldiers that were killed following the ground invasion of the region. The majority of those killed on the Palestinian side are children, women and other civilians. As things stand Israel is refusing to negotiate any kind of truce. The correspondent from the media center where I’ve been volunteering is based there, and when told by the journalist in the office to go somewhere safe, he simply asked “where?” 60 air-strikes were launched by Israel last night, and with civilians literally having no shelter or place to go, it’s inevitable that the death toll will rise.

In addition to this, there are reports that Israel is making concerted efforts, to prevent aid reaching the people, despite calling a 3 hour daily ceasefire to do precisely that. The International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) in Gaza, have accused Israel of failing to meet its international obligations after its staff found 12 bodies alongside four very young and frightened young children. The children were too weak to stand, as they waited by their dead mothers’ bodies. Aid workers had been denied access to the site for days according to the ICRC.

Here in the West Bank, the nightly vigils for the dead, the frustrated youths throwing stones at the wall, and the disillusioned conversations and sadness remain. The Palestinian Authority, is apparently preventing people from protesting, and I heard reports that the beat up some young people this morning who threw stones at the wall outside Bethlehem in frustration. The wall is protected by Israeli Defense Force soldiers who are positioned in a tower above it, so the stones are no match for them. This move by the PA is really causing a lot of anger among the population here. I spoke to an NGO worker today, and he asked tried to understand why the PA would act in this way. For him it was obvious that these young people need to express their anger in some way over the situation in Gaza.

Meanwhile, I am hearing every day of the continued abductions of teenagers from their homes, in the middle of the night. In the village of Al Khader outside Bethlehem, saw 5 teenagers been taken the other night by the IDF. Yesterday morning two small boys called to the farm to say hello, and one of them told us his 17 year brother had been taken the previous week. I hope to meet his family on Sunday, and the families of the other teenagers.

The biggest fear here, is that there will be a fall-out among the leadership of Fatah, the ruling party in the West Bank, since the leadership is failing to respond to the situation in Gaza in the manner they would like. Abbas, the Palestinian president, has announced that he will step down, which may lead to a struggle for power and infighting within the party. Once this happens, the IDF may get involved and there could be a period of violence within all the Palestinian Territories.

At the weekend, I went to Tel Aviv in Israel, to attend the demonstration against the attacks on Gaza. Approximately 10,000 Israelis, Internationals and Palestinians living in Israel marched in the city center – a reassuring sign that not all Israelis support the regime and violence. However, the protestors met with hostility from pockets of right-wing Israelis also. When I first got out of my friends car in the city center, the driver of a nearby car stopped to scream abuse at me and a friend telling us to “go down South and get bombed and then wear your kafia”, and “to go to hell”. The kafia is the Palestinian scarf often associated with Yaser Arafats’ PLO movement, but worn by many internationals as a show of solidarity with the Palestinian people. In addition to that, a Palestinian friend of mine was attacked with a metal bar as he exited a bar following the march, his crime, merely being Palestinian.

One of the really sad things about this, apart from the deaths obviously, is the affect it is having on those friends of mine who are Palestinian living in Israel. They are Israeli citizens, they pay taxes to the Israeli state, and are speaking about the fact that they are separated from the rest of the Palestinian population, upholding a state which is in fact killing their own people. This is an extremely hard thing to stand by and watch, as you can imagine. Their already overwhelming sense of disillusionment with the situation grows by the day, as most of them try to work out how they can possibly continue to sustain themselves in this hostile environment, where they are treated as second or even third class citizens, and now the enemy within the Israeli state in a war that they have not started. On the flip side of things, my Israeli friends are faced with the possibility of being called up for reserve duty, in a war they do not support, or face the consequences of refusing to serve. Some of them have younger siblings who they know are going to serve if called. Although there is one side of this conflict which is suffering considerably more than the other, it is not true to say that there are not negative affects on both sides.

So why then is the Israeli government continuing this assault and refusing to consider a ceasefire? Common opinion here is that the Israeli regime is smart enough to have orchestrated this as part of a larger agenda. What this agenda is we can only speculate, but I cannot accept that the invasion was merely a response to Hamas rockets in Israel. Just days after the initial reaction, Israel had mobilized thousands of troops and tanks on the borders of Gaza. For me, it all seems clear when I listen to the reaction of Israeli friends who are supporting the war. They speak of being under attack, of living in bunkers, of defending their people. They are essentially afraid, and what is it about fear that seems to be so advantageous to a government? It controls people, consumes them and ensures they do not question things or the action of their governments. Fear is an emotional reaction, not a rational one, and once it enters the public psyche of a state, there exists the potential to justify any action based on this need for security and so on. Its one of the reasons the separation fence and wall has been allowed to go ahead despite it being considered illegal by international human rights law.

The politics of fear is not a new thing of course. It’s been a concerted political tactic of many governments, and in particular the US post-911, when the collective fear of the nation allowed the introduction of certain laws and emergency statutes that effectively impinged on civil rights. From where I’m standing, things seem very familiar in Israel. I think its worth asking what the state of Israel has to gain from engaging this approach of a politics of fear – off the top of my head, an ability to declare a state of emergency and therefore continue to impinge on the rights of the Palestinian people, which in turn allows increased access to land and resources of the region, as well as the progression of the Zionist agenda, which I personally am sure is the principle goal of the Israeli state, having seen the activities and relics of the regime here in the West Bank. A state of war allows for a different kind of governance, and looking around me here, it’s clear what form this governance will take. Is it so wrong to question the motives of a state that kills civilians, abducts children in the middle of the night, intimidates a nation of refugees with its constant military presence, breaks international humanitarian laws and maintains elements of an occupation against the resolutions of the UN, and essentially has its very basis in the construction of an apartheid state?

Some of you might think the use of the word apartheid is too strong, but apartheid comes from the Afrikaans word for segregation, and what more evidence do we need of the segregation of the Palestinian people than the wall, the closed borders of Gaza or the two-tiered system of citizenship for the Palestinians of 48′ who still remain within the borders of Israel? Apartheid is defined by Princeton University as a system or social policy of racial segregation involving political, economic and legal discrimination. If you doubt these things exist in Israel I invite you to come here – to travel to the West Bank, to travel to what remains of Gaza, to read the countless books, academic treatises and media coverage of this system. The international community needs to start opening its eyes to what’s going on to the people of Palestine – the children, the women, the land, the olive trees – every element of Palestinian life. I am trying hard not to sound biased and emotionally affected by this, but it’s impossible to not be so. And if I am to be accused of being biased towards the the oppressed and the weak, then there are worse things to be guilty of.

On a final note, I spoke with a man from a local NGO this morning. The Badil Resource Center work for Palestinian residency and the rights of refugees. He spoke passionately about the case for Israel as an apartheid state, and how it was the responsibility of us all to challenge that state in its current existence. He spoke of how proud he was to challenge this regime, on behalf of those in Tel Aviv and other Israeli cities who were esentially being held hostage by the media and fear machine of their own insitutions; He told me about the stories his grandmother told, of living alongside Jewish people in the southern Palestinian city of Hebron,. Palestine is not for Muslims, or for Jews, or for Christians he said. It is a state for all, but that is not possible in under a regime that values the Jewish citizen, and in particular the white, Ashkenazim Jew, over all others.

Some food for thought I hope, from the town of Beit Sahour, in Bethlehem.

A Happy New Year…???

Here in Beit Sahour we’re putting the finishing touches to the final broadcasts and articles at the International Middle East Media Center (www.imemc.org). Its new Years Eve, and everyone could do with some escapism but the mood is generally tense and at a low point as the death toll exceeds 390 and the world does little to react. Israeli friends are reminding me of the fact that Hamas have been sending rockets into Israel for some years now, but since this whole thing started a few days back, there have been 4 Israeli casualties and over 390 Palestinians. It seems to pale in comparison. As one British MP told a friend of mine, its a case of a glorified peashooter being pitched against the most sophisticated military machine in the world.

Even here in the West Bank, i’m hearing stories of 15,18 and 18 year old boys being abducted in the middle of the night from their family homes by Israeli military. I don’t care what they did – how can this be justified of a 15 year old? And today, in Jerusalem, a peaceful protest of just 30 people was broken up forceably by Israeli police. About 4 young men were arrested, and apparently over 200 have been taken from their homes in the area over the past few days.

I don’t want to seem completely biased, but when all around you see these actions, its hard not to understand the frustration of the Palestinian people, and to see what a shocking regime the Israeli government is implementing.

Tonight, on New Years Eve, there is a vigil organised, as there has been every night in some part of the city. We will meet at Manger Square in Bethlehem, and see in the New Year by mourning the loss of those lives in Gaza. I will attend with friends from Palestine, the US, England, and all over Europe.

I would love to believe that the new year would bring some semblance of normality to the lives of the Gazan people, and in fact for all the Palestinian people, but that would be a vain hope that has no hope of being fulfilled. My new years wish would be that the death toll would at least stop climbing, and that I won’t come to the media center tomorrow to write once more that even more people have been killed or injured from the attacks.

So a Happy New Year to all my friends and family out there. I will stay safe and think of you all tonight.

Dr Mazin speaks at the vigil on Tuesday night

Jerusalem Protest

Dr Mazin speaks at the vigil on Tuesday night

Jerusalem Protest

Anger and sadness in the West Bank…

I’m listening to the call to prayer echoing over the rooftops of Beit Sahour, just outside Bethlehem, and it somehow seems sadder, more mourneful to me than usual. It is the third day of Israeli airstrikes in Gaza, the most recent news putting the death toll at 325, with 1,500 injured, 200 in critical conditions. Maybe the Western media is a little less harrowing, but here in the West Bank, it is the constant images from Al Jazeera’s coverage that consumes every TV – in particular images of one of the siblings of the 5 children killed this morning, being dragged from the rubble, as her father tried to shield her from the image of her dead sister’s body.

In the West Bank itself, tensions are rising, as the cities of Hebron and Ramallah reel from protests being met by the firing of live bullets, rubber bullets and tear gas. Two teenage boys died at a protest in Ramallah yesterday, and 9 were injured today in Hebron. Those protesting are largely school children and university students. In Hebron, the Israeli army have occupied buildings in the center of the city, and are firing from those buildings on children and youths firing stones at them. Last night, as we sat around the bonfire in Bustan Qaraaqa, we listened to the sound of the sonic booms from jets flying overhead, almost as if to remind the citizens of the quiet city below of the their presence.

And I am told by my friends in Israel, that they expect the reserve army to enter Gaza on a land offensive by morning, as they gather in their thousands on the border. It seems the deaths won’t end soon. Here in the International Middle East Media Center, where I am volunteering, we heard reports from officials in the ambulance services in Gaza, that hospitals have run out entirely of medical supplies, and hospitals and ambulance vehicles have been damaged in the attacks. It seems the death toll will only increase, as will the rocket attacks from Hamas, which today killed one Israeli citizen.

For now, all I am doing is trying digest it all, watch. listen and learn. I feel utterly useless here, and my news-reading and copy-editing skills seem a meagre offering, but one that at least makes me feel I am doing something.

Yesterday I spent the day with an exceptionally intelligent Professor from the University of Bethlehem, who showed me the sites of the settlements on all sides of Bethlehem and the infamous wall. Seeing it in reality, snaking its way back and forth through the land of Palestinian farms and houses in the area, it is hard to see how it serves a security or military purpose. At one point, fields of olive groves are carefully sectioned off by an elaborate route in the security fence, and one solitary home remains, segmented from land that was originally part of that plot. The roads and infrastructure on the Palestinian side of the fence, are full of potholes and piles of rubble, the olive trees lie on the other side, and if unharvested by their legal owners within 2 years, will become the property of the Israeli government. It seems hard to understand how the Palestinian farmers can harvest olives, when they are not entitled to cross the fence.

At one point while viewing this, a small group of children ran towards me, curious to see a stranger, particularly a blonde one in their midst. I took some photos of them, and they enjoyed looking at the images. The final image stays in my mind though – as I took it an Israeli helicopter passed overhead, and the little girls eyes cast upwards. It reminded me of the absurdity of the proximity of these childrens lives to the conflict, and the occupation.

I’ll write more tomorrow. Things seem a little bleak from where I stand now, and I’m in the safety of Bethlehem, unlike those in Gaza.