Al-Khalil, or known to us as
Hebron. The largest city in the West Bank with a population of 700,000, as well
as being the only city in the West Bank that has a settlement within it.
In 1997, Hebron city was divided
into two parts under the Hebron Accord; H1 ~ falling under full Palestinian
jurisdiction, including security control populated by most of the city’s
Palestinian residents and H2, subject to full Israeli control through military
rule.
.
.
Where apartheid
is most visible in an illustrated sense is in Hebron. The Palestinians are
forced to be neighbours with illegal settlers, (not to mention the most extreme
and dangerous) and everything in H2 is designed to comfort settlers, with
‘Jewish’ only streets.
Unsurprisingly
the roads denied to Palestinians can also be denied to tourists who are
followers of Islam, a Muslim or Christian. The settler-only roads allow cars
and coaches to fly past, whereas Palestinian’s cannot which has a cruel purpose
as Tel Rumeida, the Palestinian side of H2 is an area of many many steep hills
making it difficult for the elderly and pregnant. And then there is one
particular road that must be shared, one being at the beginning of Shuhada Street.
Apartheid Street in H2 Hebron: Palestinians on the right,
Jews on the left
Shuhada Street
has its own tragic story. It was once the main Palestinian street that bustled
with life in Hebron, running between the origin of Hebron, Tel Rumeida, the old
walled city and marketplace. It was lined with 1800 businesses, selling
leather, clothing, jewelry, and handmade artisan goods. Many skilled people
owned and worked in these the stores, and they all were relatively successful
with apartments above the stores where they all lived.
After the Cave
of the Patriarchs Massacre also known as the Mosque of Abraham Massacre in
1994, the Israeli government closed the entire street year later, barring
Palestinians to ever use it.
In February
1994, Baruch Goldstein, an American-Israeli settler had
entered the Ibrahimi Mosque and opened fire to unarmed Palestinians who were
praying their morning prayer, killing 29 of them, most children and injuring
another 200. Though this massacre was committed by an Israeli himself, the
government of Israel with is ironic logic as usual, decided to punish
Palestinians, and closed the street to them completely.
According to the
Hebron Protocols from 1997, the street should be re-opened to Palestinians.
This was partially implemented in 1997 and 1998. However, since the outbreak of
the Second Intifada in 2000, the street has again been closed for
Palestinians. It remains closed to this day.
As you enter
checkpoint 56 you find yourself immediately facing the ghostly Shuhada Street.
You find yourself staring at the green doors of the stores wondering who used
to run it and what type of store it was before being welded shut indefinitely.
You notice the Star of David spray painted on almost every store and are
immediately reminded of swastika’s.
You soon understand
that no Palestinians are allowed on the street past the colonial “Beit
Hadassah” settlement as from then on you find yourself walking with tools of
occupation dressed in uniform protecting the colonialist thieves.
H2 thus has high
military presence, about 2000 soldiers for 500 settlers. Now the term
‘settlers’ refer to the Jewish people who for whatever reason (usually to
‘reclaim what is theirs’) move into occupied West Bank, with free incentives
given by the Israeli government providing them with free electricity, water,
medical care, essentially maintaining their colonies financially, at the
expense of Palestinians who pay the highest price of all; the occupation of
their land, and the set up of colonies aiming to harass, humiliate and degrade
their existence until they want to flee.
You will hear
some of the most upsetting stories in Hebron.
Ones of brutal attacks leaving broken arms and fingers of children,the puncturing of holes into Palestinian families’ water tanks by settler ammunition,the taunting and searching of Palestinian children on their way to school,the list is endless.
What is even
more tragic is that they are completely vulnerable to any attack, whether it be
from settlers or soldiers themselves. Being in H2, Palestinian Authority Police
cannot do anything, and the Israeli Police will not do anything.
One of the most
known and heartbreaking stories heard by internationals is Hashem Al-Azzeh’s
story. Hashem’s family ~ his two brothers and their families live in houses
adjoining his ~ have suffered 20 years of harassment and attacks by the
inhabitants of the Tel Rumeida settlement. 7 years ago, Hashem says, a
notoriously aggressive settler grabbed his nine-year-old nephew Yusuf, stuffed
stones in his mouth and punched it in, destroying his teeth.
His house is on
the Tel Rumeida slope, the only Palestinian to live right under Tel Rumeida’s
overshadowing settlement. It is 2 minutes away from Checkpoint 56. To enter his
home you must climb a stony bank then wind along a rough and narrow pathway
through scrubland and up another couple of steep slopes.
This has been
the only way in and out of Hashem’s home since the building of the settlement
50 feet behind his house cut off access from the road. He had to carry his dead
father in his arms down this way and along to the checkpoint to meet an
ambulance waiting behind cp 56.
The body kept
setting the metal detector off, so the Israeli soldiers demanded him to be
unwrapped from the white cloth, which revealed a watch on his father’s wrist. A
soldier then smashed his watch with the end of his rifle ~ consequently
shattering the wrist. I need not say explain how insolent and vile this is.
Portkabins next
to/overlooking Hashem Al-Azzeh’s house
You can see the
portcabins of the Tel Rumeida settlement looming over Hashem’s house and the
settlement road where illegal settlers can drive and walk as they wish
with Hashem forbidden to set foot on it, as all Palestinians in Hebron.
It’s not
uncommon to see water running down this road, the result of settlers regularly
cutting the water pipes or shooting at the water tanks of the surrounding
Palestinian homes.
The infamous
terrorist Baruch Marzel, is his neighbour. They often cross
paths, and exchange words.
“Every dog has
it’s time Hashem! Every dog has it’s time!” He snarls confidently.
Hashem smiles.
“Then your time is soon.”
Hashem and his
brothers have been in Hebron’s Tel Rumeida for three generations and they are
determined to stay put.
“We will never
go,” he says. “Never.” This is the general firm attitude of Palestinians living
under occupation in the West Bank. After they tell their story of
Israel’s injustice, sometimes in tears, sometimes in anger, or
sometimes with defeat in their eyes, they all boldly repeat the same sentence.
“No matter what they do to us, we will never leave! This is our land. It has always been our land, and it will always be ours.”
On Saturday, 9th
of July 2011, I experienced a settler attack first hand myself.
As an activist
part of a solidarity movement in Hebron, we do ‘Patrol Strolls’. This is a
simple 1 hour to 2 hour walk around Tel Rumeida mostly through every checkpoint
to make sure no Palestinian is detained and if they are, to intervene in order
to release as well as calling more international presence.
Two female
activists, Noor* and Hannah* left the apartment at 11pm for a patrol stroll.
Around 12am upon passing through Shuhada Street and walking up to the second
guard post located outside the settler street that harbours Baruch
Marzel, a group of female settlers began to shout and obstruct the
activists’ way.
The guard post outside the settler street where the assault
took place
The settler
leading the assault was an old female settler, known as Anat Cohen who had attempted to then run them over with
her car, Noor and Hannah moving out the way just in time.
She then got out
of the car and demanded the soldiers pointing at the activists to “Kill them,
kill them!” Her hissing becoming louder and louder each time, abruptly
grabbing Hannah’s collar in an attempt to pull her closer and hit her. The two
soldiers eventually left their guard post to walk to where the activists
remained, calling another three as the settler presence seemed to keep getting
larger.
I then received
a call from Hannah asking me to come down, as they are being harassed. I
immediately left the apartment with a male activist Marcus* and rushed towards
the guard post. Upon arriving I saw the activists sitting on a pavement, the
female settlers pointing, laughing and swearing in broken English, with the
soldiers loosely in between them looking rather relaxed and smiling.
Anat Cohen - the female Settler that attempted to run us
over 3 times
“Is there a
problem here?” I asked the first soldier that looked at me. Giving me a grin he
replied “No, no problem, I don’t know”, ignoring his vague reply, I passed
through the soldiers to speak to Noor and Hannah.
A young female
settler no older than 16, with a jeering manner asked me “Who are you, why you
here? Leave my counchy!”
“Counchy?” I
repeated unable to hide my amusement, “What’s a counchy? If you mean country,
you’re still not supposed to be here.” And as childish as her character she
yelled “Shukt the fuck up”. Looking at her as she smiled sadistically, it was
impossible not to pity her or be blown away by her devoted racism.
Upon our
arrival, the old female settler had called the young settler boys, a group of
10 or so were suddenly running towards us, with the intention of sparking
trouble, immediately they jumped on Marcus who stumbled, spat on Noor and
myself, whilst a lot of cursing in Hebrew. Freezing in shock I looked at the
soldiers to see if they were doing anything. They simply continued their
neutrality by just standing as a fence between us and the settlers, rather
effortlessly, without the intention to actually protect us, not that we should
expect them to. The boys slowly began to disperse.
One soldier
looking rather informal without his military hat and bag, began to usher us back
up towards the Palestinian area of Tel Rumeida, the settlers still obstructing
our path.
“Maybe if you
tell the people you protect to move out our way, we could move,” I replied to
the soldier who kept repeating “Come come, up up, come come.” Rolling his eyes
he gestured for the settler boys to move to the left of the street as we walked
on the right towards the Palestinian side, where we noticed a Palestinian
family coming towards the guard post, downwards to checkpoint 56 which allows
entry into H1.
Thus we refused
to return to our apartment until the Palestinians walked past safely without
any harassment as the settlers were still standing around. Leaning up against a
wall, I rang two more activists, Rene* and Carlos* to join us with our
camera’s.
Within 5 minutes
they appeared, in which I immediately began taking pictures. Doing so, upset a
certain settler dressed in a bright blue t-shirt and shorts with his rifle
hanging off his shoulder.
One of the armed settlers who approached me
He began walking
towards me, pointing his finger at my face, “You! Stop taking pictures of me!
You motherfucker! You don’t take pictures of me OK!” By this time he was inches
away from my face, refusing to step back, Noor pushed me backwards telling him
to go. He began walking away towards the soldiers still staring at me,
disappointed that his automatic gun couldn’t intimidate.
Suddenly the
previous young settler boys who had disappeared momentarily began running out
of their street towards us. Unable to assess the situation in such a short
space of time, we were bashed with spit, stones and eggs, as well as an attempt
of my snatching my camera by a settler no older than 15.
The soldiers
eventually decided to rush in between us ushering us behind them with the boys
still present laughing, clapping and hi-fiving each other. Five soldiers
remained behind us telling us that we must go home. As there were no more
Palestinians visible on the streets, we reluctantly agreed, slowly walking
towards our apartment in Tel Rumeida.
Looking back I
noticed Anat Cohen get in her car and drive into a street that would lead her
back round to us. The soldiers who had also noticed this walked in front of us
and as expected immediately she appeared, her headlights glaring, her face
emotionless, her eyes deranged. Two soldiers ensured that she pass to the
right side of us as we continued walking on the left.
In the meantime
I began to quiz to the soldiers. “These are the people you protect?” Silence.
“I will be
filing a complaint, who is your commander, give me his name.”
A soldier to my
left replies “Our commander cannot help you. You call the police.”
“Okay, give me
the nearest Israeli Police station, and number and I will immediately file a
complaint against this assault that you and your fellow friends found
hilarious.”
The same soldier
replied “I cannot help you, I do not know.”
“Really? So then
you’ve never rang the Israeli Police when you wanted to arrest a Palestinian?”
Silence again.
The soldier in
front of him says something to him in Hebrew, in which Rene said, “That settler
had a gun. He’s younger than you, he’s younger than me and he had a gun!”
Smiling the
soldier who initially had replied to me says “No he’s not. He’s not younger
than me he’s the same age. I know him personally.”
“Oh you know him
personally!?” I asked. “Well in that case you can give me his name and address
and I can file my complaint even better.”
“No I cannot do
that, he is in the army.” the same soldier who spoke to him before interrupts
him again in Hebrew, and he no longer replies to any of our questions.
As expected the
crazed settler Cohen in her grey car was in front of us again, she had gone the
same route in an attempt to run over us. Eventually reaching the complete
Palestinian area where no Jewish vehicles are allowed, she paused, and
patronizingly began gesturing us to the direction we were already walking in, a
young settler sitting beside her laughing and sticking his middle finger up.
Only after this
assault and sitting down in our apartment, I realized I was shaking with anger
the whole time. Not because I was spat on, egged and stoned for the first time,
but because this is as nowhere near as what a Palestinian goes through every
day of their existence.
I not only had
anger in my blood, but pity in my heart for their mental state. I felt no
gratitude for the soldiers’ reluctant escort of the 6 of us, but a lot of
hatred for the fascist system that projects nothing but injustice and state
terrorism.
It is clear.
Israel has created two prisons ~ one of occupation and one of ignorance.
With a clenched
fist and tears in my eyes, may we continue to rise, resist and revolt.
No comments:
Post a Comment
If your comment is not posted, it was deemed offensive.