Protests and tear gas ….. part II
by gracedaisy
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.
