Title: Re: [NewPacifica] Olmert says Israel will draw its own borders
on 5/24/06 10:23 AM, Kevin White at cuitlacoche1@xxxxxxxxx wrote:
Does Israel need more "breathing room?"
K
No, but Palestinians sure do. See below. Avis
____________________________________
>> > As many of know, our Sandy Butler is spending several months in
>> > Jerusalem "on the ground" in the midst of occupation experiences and
>> > protests. She has asked BAWIB to share with all of you this report
>> of
>> > her experiences in the past few days. We hope you find it
>> informative
>> > and inspiring, if not also a bit frightening. These are yet more
>> > first-hand stories of the courage of Palestinians to struggle for
>> > justice in the face of this brutal Occupation.
>> > Salaam/shalom
>> >
>> > Dear family, friends and community,
>> >
>> > I send two reports. The first reflects my introduction to the work
>> of
>> > Machsom Watch; several hundred women who volunteer to take regular
>> > shifts at checkpoints, where they monitor the activities and
>> behavior
>> > of the Israeli soldiers as the Palestinian community moves through
>> the
>> > checkpoints.
>> >
>> > The second is a description of a solidarity demonstration in A-ram
>> on
>> > Saturday.
>> >
>> > My Machsom Watch guide picks both me and her colleague up a little
>> > past two o'clock and we set off for the first of three very
>> different
>> > forms of checkpoints that she has covered on her assigned shift
>> since
>> > l998.
>> > Driving south on Israeli roads for about twenty minutes we pull
>> onto a
>> > a narrow road that ends in a wide cement strip upon which is nothing
>> > but a building about the size of a doublewide aluminum trailer.
>> Around
>> > it is barbed wire and carefully situated concrete blocks. Inside are
>> > narrow corrugated metal corridors lined with plastic chairs bolted
>> to
>> > the floor, an accommodation to public criticism about too many
>> > Palestinians fainting in the heat. Two broken and now filthy
>> bathrooms
>> > have been added as well.
>> > To enter, each Palestinian is required to stand in front of a
>> > revolving eight-foot high metal turnstile that makes one quarter
>> turn
>> > at a time, allowing only one person to go through for questioning.
>> As
>> > he exits into the room where the soldiers examine his papers and
>> make
>> > their decisions, the person behind him remains trapped with bars
>> both
>> > in front and behind him, like being stuck in an unmoving revolving
>> > door.
>> > After the soldiers make their determinations-- allow them to pass,
>> > stamp their papers, turn them back for other documentation, the
>> > Palestinian exits through another turnstile, moving through it and
>> > held for just another moment, in order to "contain traffic flow."
>> > As soon as we get out of the car, Palestinians descend upon us,
>> > holding out identification cards, instructions scribbled on pieces
>> of
>> > paper, speaking quickly, urgently. The two Machsom Watch women go to
>> > work at once, pulling out their worn cellophane covered lists of
>> > numbers; calling, arguing, explaining to the Palestinian and again
>> to
>> > the voice on the other end of the line. Most of the people lined up
>> at
>> > the checkpoint and clustered before us were patient, just wanting to
>> > understand what they could do, if anything at all. Each had pressing
>> > need to continue the movements of their day. To go to work. To care
>> > for a sick family member. To take a child to school. To visit
>> > relatives. To live.
>> > I watch a slow steady stream of young families, young men, old women
>> > move slowly through the long narrow entrance way, down the narrow
>> > enclosed corridor to the revolving door through which their day
>> would
>> > be decided.
>> > An Israeli married to a Palestinian woman, both living in the West
>> > Bank, had been unable to get papers that would allow her to travel
>> to
>> > necessary medical treatment. The soldier said he would have to
>> bring a
>> > doctors note citing the exact date of the appointments, then a pass
>> > would be issued for those times only. He was furious, and as he
>> drove
>> > away, called to us out of the car window,
>> > "They are making the terrorists. We are not terrorists. We just want
>> > to take care of our families. They are making us this," he cried as
>> he
>> > drove away.
>> > At 4:00 o'clock the checkpoint closed for the day. The metal doors
>> > slammed shut and the solders inside did not respond to the first
>> > tentative, then increasingly forceful knocks and cries by the
>> > Palestinians left outside.
>> > "We told them to post the hours in Arabic. To tell people what
>> papers
>> > they must bring," my guide mutters. "But they just close when they
>> > want."
>> > This was neither a busy time of day, nor a busy checkpoint. During
>> our
>> > brief stay, there were nearly one hundred Palestinians trying to
>> > travel through the area. Most, but not all of them got through. This
>> > is considered, by the soldiers, successful. Making our way through
>> the
>> > remaining huddle of people who will have to return again in the
>> > morning, we drive to the second checkpoint on the north-south road
>> > that intersects Jerusalem.
>> >
>> > This ramshackle huddle of sheds, stalls, outdoor market, bazaar, and
>> > checkpoint is on the side of the main route that runs south from the
>> > Hebron area north to the Ramallah area, a road that would, in an
>> > ordinary world, pass through Jerusalem. But Palestinians are no
>> longer
>> > allowed to travel through Jerusalem, so this roadblock and
>> checkpoint
>> > have been set up.
>> > People arrive by taxis with Palestinian license plates and are
>> > required to pass through what has become a long crowded souk on
>> foot,
>> > go through the checkpoint if they get through at all, then get into
>> > other Palestinian taxis on the other side to continue east in a
>> large
>> > circle around Jerusalem before continuing north. This checkpoint,
>> > unlike the last, makes no pretense at modernity. Clustered at the
>> > entrance are dozens of Palestinian taxis with their special
>> > identifying license plates, all jammed together and honking their
>> > horns in order to find another millimeter of space in which to move.
>> > Just beyond them on the stony path is is a long narrow souk
>> > jerry-built out of old wood, sheets of rusty tin and covered with
>> torn
>> > rugs and faded strips of cloth. Stalls are filled with produce,
>> shoes,
>> > roasting nuts and drinks, handcrafts and clothing for sale. One of
>> my
>> > guides said that there used to be beds for rent as well, because
>> many
>> > people waited for days before being allowed through. This temporary
>> > village market is a squalid dust choked place, a resilient,
>> > life-affirming haphazard re-creation of life. A very old Palestinian
>> > woman walks past us carrying an enormous black plastic trash bag
>> > filled with belongings balanced perfectly upon her head, her short
>> > square body regal and dignified. An old couple dressed in
>> traditional
>> > clothing moves along the path looking as though they had just
>> stepped
>> > down out of a family photograph taken in the early 20th century.
>> Stall
>> > owners, standing behind mounds of melons, oranges, fruits and
>> roasting
>> > nuts call out their wares. Old men sit together at counters made of
>> > unused concrete blocks, sip Turkish coffee and bottled water, talk
>> > softly together. A young boy offers me hot roasted nuts for just ten
>> > shekels. It is the price for tourists I know, but buy them anyway
>> and
>> > we smile at one another, for our very different reasons.
>> > As the three of us, identified by our badges as Machsom Watch stand
>> > together, a Palestinian man approaches and begins to talk, wanting
>> to
>> > tell us about his life. He speaks with great urgency, not because he
>> > imagines we can do anything to help him, but because we are two
>> > Israelis and an international, and he feels a need to educate us
>> about
>> > what our governments are doing. To give the Occupation a human face.
>> > The stall keeper offers us Turkish coffee which we accept, and as he
>> > serves us with graceful formality he says that he was once a chef
>> in a
>> > high-end Jerusalem tourist hotel, but cannot enter the city now, so
>> he
>> > serves coffee and drinks in this makeshift stall on the side of this
>> > road. After we begin to drink, he nods politely and moves off.
>> > The man begins, "I am 34 and a half years old, married with five
>> > children."
>> > His precise age is important because a new law has just been passed
>> > ruling that a Palestinian man cannot be issued a metallic ID to
>> travel
>> > until he is 35. As a result, this man is unable to travel to work
>> and
>> > is just barely making a living as a painter. His words spill out in
>> a
>> > torrent, his need both to speak and to be heard. He tells us about
>> his
>> > daughters and their schooling, his wife, their freshly painted home.
>> > He describes, in part, the artifacts of an ordinary life, except
>> that
>> > his family is imprisoned by the Occupation.He didn't say that. He
>> > didn't need to.
>> > As we stand together before the stall run by a once sought after
>> > Jerusalem chef, old men huddle together speaking in low tones,
>> > shopkeepers continue to call out their wares, families pass by on
>> the
>> > dusty road stepping around the concrete barriers everywhere, I am
>> > filled with respect for this re-creation of life and temporary
>> > community on such inhospitable soil. The Machsom Watch women offer
>> the
>> > painter their telephone numbers, promising that they will do
>> whatever
>> > they can to speed up the issuance of his identity card. For the
>> first
>> > time, his face breaks open into a broad smile and he reaches for our
>> > hands shaking each one warmly, saying,
>> > "Salaam, my sisters. Salaam."
>> > "Quality control," my guide muttered as we climb back into the car.
>> > "That's all we can do anymore. Just quality control for the
>> > Occupation. Even the army wants to meet with us to get our advice
>> > about how to make things more humane. That's what it's come to."
>> >
>> > We drive away on the Israeli road to the Bethlehem checkpoint where
>> > the monstrous wall now surrounds the city. We pull up in front of a
>> > small utilitarian building like those that fill industrial office
>> > parks at the outskirts of mid-sized American cities. We walk up a
>> ramp
>> > and enter what looks like an immigration and customs concourse in an
>> > airport, except this is a self-contained building, except these are
>> > soldiers with weapons in closed booths, except once you enter you
>> have
>> > to approach the booths into which Palestinians offer their metallic
>> > cards, scraps of plastic that legitimize their presence in their
>> city.
>> > It is clean, quiet, orderly, a barren place where bureaucracy
>> > flourishes and people wait in line, eyes steadily forward.
>> > Just above us are massive watchtowers surrounding the building.
>> There
>> > is no conversation as Palestinians wait to be admitted in and out of
>> > their homes. The silence is so complete, I can hear the clacking
>> > echoes of women's shoes on the concrete, just ten minutes drive from
>> > the crowded marketplace of the previous checkpoint.
>> > Across the street are open fields where my guide tells me people
>> were
>> > detained for hours in the direct sun during the years before this
>> > building was constructed.
>> > "They just kept them there penned up in the sun whenever there was a
>> > sweep, or after a terrorist action."
>> > Now they are enclosed, out of sight, in rooms sealed away in this
>> > industrial box with doors that only open one way.
>> >
>> > Preparing to return to Jerusalem, we turn down a short cul de sac
>> > towards a newly completed section of the wall that my guide wanted
>> me
>> > to see. As we approach, we see a solitary car with a large Doberman
>> > pinscher chained to it. Two men, dressed entirely in black, with no
>> > identifying markings on their shirts, climb out of the car and
>> > approach us, eyes empty, guns slung over their shoulders.
>> > They are members of a private force, they explain to what they
>> imagine
>> > are the three middle-aged Israeli ladies in the car, old women who
>> had
>> > simply made a wrong turn. The checkpoint forces are being expanded
>> to
>> > counter the army resisters both of the right and the left, one said.
>> > Privatizing the checkpoint soldiers allows the government to remain
>> > fully staffed as more soldiers refuse to serve. Finished with their
>> > brief explanation and impatient with us, they waved their hands
>> > indicating we should to turn around and leave at once. We did.
>> > On the drive back to Jerusalem, my guide spoke about the changes in
>> > Machsom Watch since the start of the second Intifada, of her own
>> > Holocaust history and losses, and about the need for each of us to
>> > take responsibility for what Israelis were doing. She learned that
>> > primary lesson from the death of all her ancestors, she said. We are
>> > each responsible to and for one another. All the one anothers.
>> >
>> >
>> >
>> >
>> > Saturday- Taay'ush, Bat Shalom and Gush Shalom joint vigil in A-Ram.
>> >
>> > A-Ram is a small town just outside of Jerusalem on the way to
>> > Ramallah. Over the past two years, the Israeli government built the
>> > Wall down the center of the road divider, effectively cutting off
>> one
>> > side of the town from the other, separating Palestinians from
>> > Palestinians. School from child. Land from farmer. Shop from owner.
>> > Families from one another.
>> > Although Aram paid taxes to the Jerusalem municipality, the town's
>> > rate of growth meant that there was an expanding number of
>> > Palestinians just outside Jerusalem. The perceived demographic
>> dangers
>> > meant that Israel would forfeit the taxe revenues and build the Wall
>> > to divide the town, leaving the most populated half on the "other"
>> > side of the Wall, thus resulting in a town with no center.
>> > During the construction of the Wall, groups of Israeli and
>> Palestinian
>> > activists demonstrated to protest, with little success. Except, of
>> > course for the forging of coalitions, friendships and joint
>> projects.
>> > This demo was called because the very last piece of Wall was going
>> to
>> > be put into place, effectively sealing off a once vibrant community
>> > from itself and from Jerusalem.
>> > At the Israeli meeting point, people talked animatedly about the
>> pros
>> > and cons of cheap cologne and gauzy scarves versus raw onions if
>> tear
>> > gas was fired. Men advised one another to remember not to shave on
>> > days of actions because tear gas stings the newly raw places on
>> their
>> > face. These conversations were simply to educate newcomers to become
>> > more expert in their preparations for resistance activism. Boarding
>> > our bus, we set off for the junction where we would join up with the
>> > Tel Aviv contingent. There, we were given careful instructions,
>> > attendance was taken, lists of emergency phone numbers were handed
>> > out.
>> > The A-Ram community had organized a parade with drummers, little
>> > children with colorful uniforms leading the line, teenagers
>> chanting,
>> > adults with banners and signs. We were told to wait until the
>> > demonstrators began their march down the street, then to mix our
>> > presence with theirs in order to display solidarity. By the time the
>> > Palestinians began to move and the Israelis and internationals
>> joined
>> > them, there were nearly five hundred people moving towards the army
>> > checkpoint.
>> > We were greeted warmly as we walked alongside the townspeople and I
>> > recognized two Palestinian women from the Jerusalem Centre for
>> Women I
>> > had met at the Women in Black conference last August. We exchanged
>> the
>> > requisite kisses with great warmth, and as we continued to walk
>> > together towards the checkpoint, I told them that I had taken
>> > wonderful pictures, but had been unable to send them to the email
>> > address they had given me. They re-assured me that there was a new
>> > email address, and we made a date for me to come to Ramallah to meet
>> > with them the following week. We walked together smiling and
>> chatting
>> > down the A-Ram street surrounded by hundreds of demonstrators.
>> > "May I have a mobile number or email address in case we get
>> separated
>> > during the demo?" I asked.
>> > "Oh no," they smiled. "Don't worry. We won't get separated."
>> > Just then, everyone in front of me turned and started running
>> towards
>> > me. I turned and began to run as well, not yet knowing what had
>> > happened. Everyone was moving quickly and H. tore off a piece of
>> onion
>> > and passed it to me as she ran, calling out,
>> > "Breathe into this. It will help."
>> > I ran, passing two Palestinian ambulances already on the scene, saw
>> > men and boys doubled over spitting phlegm onto the ground. I kept
>> > moving, covering my nose and doing my best to keep up with the
>> crowd.
>> > After several panicked minutes, we all approached a large gas
>> station,
>> > paused and re-gathered, a much smaller group now, people having
>> > scattered in many directions. Our monitors were busily talking on
>> > their cell phones trying to locate people and figure out what to do
>> > next. Army jeeps, lights flashing, drove past as we stood, many
>> people
>> > still trying to catch their breath, red eyed, gagging.
>> > "Let's walk to the A-Ram central council hall," J suggested, an
>> > central political meeting place for activists. A few people joined
>> her
>> > and began to walk away from the checkpoint and towards town, while
>> the
>> > remainder of the crowd waited at the gas station.
>> > Within minutes, the army jeeps returned, this time accompanied by
>> > horses, and tear gassed the areas of the garage and everyone near
>> it.
>> > Gasping for breath, everyone ran again, scattering in all
>> directions,
>> > eventually re-gathering at the A-Ram council hall.
>> > The exhausted group filled the government office to listen to the
>> > mayor thank us for our solidarity and promise to continue to make
>> > every effort at collaborative non-violent resistance against the
>> Wall
>> > and the destruction of their community. We applauded him, and one
>> > another, then made our way down to the street, wearily climbing into
>> > Palestinian taxis who were to take us back to our buses.
>> > The mile and a half took more than twenty minutes around back roads,
>> > the only route cars with Palestinians license plates are allowed to
>> > drive. Our driver left us off a substantial walk from our buses
>> > because he didn't want to drive anywhere near the checkpoint road.
>> We
>> > disembarked, trudging along the side of the Israeli highway to our
>> > waiting buses.
>> > Fifteen minutes and many lifetimes away, we returned to Jerusalem,
>> > still serenely in the midst of Shabbat. The air was cool, birds sang
>> > to one another, children played in the park, their tzitzit swinging
>> as
>> > they ran through the grass chasing one another, under the loving
>> gaze
>> > of their parents. The other Israel.
>> >
>> > This morning, a picture illustrating the action appeared in
>> Ha'Aretz.
>> > Three Palestinian children were shown throwing stones at approaching
>> > armored tanks. Members of Hamas participated, the article said.
>> > Soldiers had unsuccessfully tried to divert the demonstrators from
>> the
>> > checkpoint before releasing percussion genades. The story went on to
>> > briefly describe the numbers of Palestinians and Israelis hurt and
>> > arrested. There was no picture of the proud young Palestinian
>> children
>> > in their band uniforms, colorful flags against the bleak grey wall
>> > along which we briefly walked together.
>> >
>> > Here is alternative coverage from International Solidarity Movement
>> > sources
>> >
>> > Date: Sun, 14 May 2006 14:15:27 +0000
>> >
>> > From: media@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
>> >
>> > Subject: [ISM Media Group] Non-Violent Demonstration Against the
>> Wall
>> > in Ar-Ram Attacked by Israeli Military
>> >
>> > Saturday 13th May: Around 800 Palestinian and 200 Israeli and
>> > international demonstrators, representing a broad coalition of
>> people,
>> > united in a march to call for an end to the Apartheid Wall in the
>> > Palestinian town of Ar-Ram, just north of Jerusalem. With the
>> > participation of schoolchildren, teachers, neighborhood residents
>> and
>> > representatives of all the different Palestinian political parties,
>> it
>> > was carefully prepared as a non-violent protest. It was well
>> > disciplined, with a line of organizers at the front of the march
>> > preventing any impatient youth from provoking a confrontation with
>> the
>> > soldiers.
>> >
>> > The large, peaceful march was headed by a children's marching band.
>> > Despite this, it was violently attacked when Israeli Border Police
>>
>> === message truncated ===
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