"My civic, moral, Jewish, humanitarian duty"

"It is my civic, moral, Jewish, humanitarian duty. Our job is to make sure that our society doesn't run away from our responsibility, and doesn't cover up the ramifications of this reality."
 ~ Yehuda Shaul, co-founder of Breaking the Silence, ex-Israeli soldiers speaking out against the occupation of Palestine

"Don't exaggerate when you tell people of this place. Just tell them what you saw. That's enough."
 ~ Omar Hajajeh, Palestinian resident of al-Walaja

Of the many great mysteries in my life, here is the latest: how is that it's become socially unacceptable to have a frank and honest discussion about the Israeli government and their policies? Over these last few weeks I've talked about Israel to quite a few people, and invariably they lower their voice to make sure no one overhears that they're talking about, (shhhhhh...) Israel! 

When I left Israel/Palestine a month ago I was feeling oddly optimistic, for the worst of reasons. It seemed blindingly obvious, from my limited experience, that Palestinians are being treated so badly, in so many ways, by the Israeli government that it's completely unsustainable. It just can't continue. I think that no reasonable, thinking person would spend time in the occupied territories, hear their stories and come away thinking, wow, the Israeli government is doing a great job. Keep it up! They've been "keeping it up" in the last month by threatening to build 20,000 new settlement homes, and they're in the process of forcibly resettling 40,000-70,000 Bedouins from their "unauthorized" villages.

But we're not "allowed" to talk about it, somehow, for reasons no one is sure. And it's uncomfortable anyway, so we don't really want to know OR to talk about it. So the injustice continues. Which is just how the government wants it.

Don't be that guy. Learn about it, talk about it, express your opinion. Be brave, and be true to your ideals.

Love!
Dave


This lovely man is Issa Souf, a Palestinian who was paralyzed after being shot in 2001 by an Israeli soldier as he stepped outside his house. Two years later he wrote this to the two soldiers involved: "I remember you. I remember your confused face when you stood above my head and wouldn't let people come to my aid. I remember how my voice grew weaker when I said to you, 'Be humane and let my parents help.'" Later he wrote: "My resolve to continue living is also a desire to reach others with my message to understand that life is a gift that should not be tampered with, and that all people are equal on this earth, and that power should exist to protect justice and defend it and not to create oppression or to dominate other weaker people." Read an article from 2001 about when he was shot.



Speaking of lovely, Moran listens to Issa speak. Moran is in Ethiopia right now volunteering for three months in an orphanage. Lucky orphans.



Zohar Lavie, who formed SanghaSeva with her partner Nathan to promote "meditation in action" retreats around the world. This was the eighth "Being Peace" retreat in Israel and Palestine. They also run the leprosy work retreat in India where I'm heading next week for the third year in a row. I'm so happy and grateful for the work they do. Inspired, even!



Hadar, from Israel.



Palestinian kids on the street as we walk from one village to another.



This is the Palestinian village of Deir Istiya in the West Bank, where we spent six nights. Something like 4,000 residents, and they're all made up of 14 extended families. It's interesting to look at it on Google Maps streets: http://goo.gl/maps/mYQrY, where no roads are shown, versus the Google Maps satellite, where you can see roads aplenty: http://goo.gl/maps/CtDCI. What do you suppose is up with that?



Cute kids trying to figure out what we're doing. Hint: we don't know what we're doing!



My wise younger brother Assaf, who I spent a lot of time with in India last year, speaks pretty good Arabic as he hangs with the local kids. He was the only one in the group who knows Arabic.



Donkey jail, perhaps.



Oddly, (he says conspiratorially,) there are no signs to Palestinian villages. But every Israeli settlement, it seems, regardless of how small, has a sign. Yizhar is the name of the settlement with the hard-core Israeli settlers who had attacked olive farmers and their foreign helpers the day before. We came on this day to try to keep it from happening again. On Google Maps, the streets are included for this settlement: http://goo.gl/maps/AZhWm, but none for the much larger Palestinian villages nearby. What do you suppose is up with that?



The settlement is at the top of this hill, as they almost always are. We're walking from the road up to the olive groves that we'll be helping with. According to Wikipedia, "The inhabitants of Yitzar have a reputation as being among the most extreme Israeli settlers and regularly clash with local Palestinian civilians. The settlement is at the forefront of the settler movement's so called "price tag" policy which calls for attacks against Palestinians in retaliation for actions of the Israeli government against West Bank settlements."



This young Palestinian farmer came flying across the field on his horse, bareback, and we were sure he was about to run us over before he stopped on a dime and greeted us. He showed us the wounds on his leg where he was attacked the day before.



Those are Israeli soldiers, sent to keep distance between the Palestinian farmers, who are picking olives on their own lands, and the Israeli settlers, who think God gave all of the land to the Jews. This was taken from our "lookout" spot, where we had someone posted all day watching to see if any settlers were coming down the hill. Armed with metal poles like the day before. To beat us with! Surreal, even though they didn't come this day.



Recently burned olive trees, owned by the Palestinians, burned by the settlers.



Back in Deir Istiya, we're entertained by neighbor and his full-of-it son.



Our host is a wedding singer with a booming voice and outgoing personality. Someone said he looked like Tom Jones and that's how we referred to him the whole week.



Our last day of picking olives was with gentle Zuhir, who was in previous photos. His wife is quite ill and his teenage son refuses to do anything but play video games, so we did our best to help him out with the trees down this line.



The economics of these two smooshed-together entities, Israel and Palestine, are so different. You'd hardly see a donkey in Israel, and here it's just a normal way of getting around.



As we wait for our ride at the end of the day, a Palestinian woman walking down the road stops to have a look.



Electricity, olive trees, and the sun.



A proud looking kid from near our house in Deir Istiya.



Tom Jones' son again and his sister, in their super-hero pose.



Do you remember Shaul from the previous newsletter? He was the settler that we all wanted to dislike, but couldn't, dang it. One of the rabbis from Rabbis for Human Rights just had Shaul perform his marriage ceremony. Generally speaking, settlers and Rabbis for Human Rights are working for opposite goals, and they had a settler perform his marriage. Beautiful. (Yes, by the way, those are dreadlocks.)



OK, last story. This Israeli settlement is near the Palestinian village of al-Walaja, and the Israeli authorities decided to completely encircle the village as part of the "West Bank Barrier," a tall security barrier, sometimes made of stone and sometimes of wire. After protests, they agreed to reduce the circle to 330 degrees instead of 360.



Before we headed into the village, our hired driver, who we didn't know, bought us a bunch of this amazing fresh bread. He said he was happy to see that we were doing the work we were doing.



This calm and steady Palestinian man, Omar Hajajeh, owns a small house outside of where the government wanted to build the barrier. He steadfastly refused through immense pressure and periodic harassment, and the government ended up building a tunnel that goes only to this house. According to this UN article-that-you-should-read, a gate will be installed, and "the family’s guests will have to coordinate their visit with the Israeli authorities some 12 hours in advance of their arrival."



Omar told us, "Don't exaggerate when you tell people of this place. Just tell them what you saw. That's enough." When asked why he put up such a fight to live in this isolated little house, he said, "Even if you have just one tree that you planted with your own hands, it's not a prison. There's a deep connection with the place, and if you don't have it, it's hard to understand."



FOFOP: Future Olive Farmers Of Palestine



This kid was such a doll.



People have told me that I frequently have photos of beautiful women in my blog. I don't know what they're talking about. (Jess from England.)



The Being Peace work retreat comes to a close. See you next year, me hopes...


(The End)

Hebron: "There is no light."

"No one is born hating another person because of the colour of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite."

 ~ Nelson Mandela

"An unjust law is itself a species of violence. Arrest for its breach is more so. Now the law of nonviolence says that violence should be resisted not by counter-violence but by nonviolence. This I do by breaking the law and by peacefully submitting to arrest and imprisonment."

 ~ Mahatma Gandhi, Non-violence in Peace and War 1942-49


Our group took a tour of the tragic and decimated Hebron, in the Occupied Territories of the West Bank. We've seen and heard a lot of tragic stories about the effects of military occupation here, but in Hebron it's congealed into some kind of psychotic carnival not-fun-house that no one would believe if it weren't true.

The city is ancient by any standard - the Tomb of the Patriarchs is Biblical, maybe 3,000 years old. It's also sacred, of course, to Jews, Muslims and Christians, just to keep it interesting. The current population is around 170,000 people. In the middle of the city there are four Israeli settlements which look a bit like military encampments, with high fences, rolls of razor wire and surveillance. In order to protect the 750 Israeli settlers, (who believe that God has given this land to the Jews,) there are about 600 Israeli military providing security. Tension is thick and there is no love lost between the settlers and their Palestinian neighbors. Relatively-recent history is convoluted enough that each side can point to some particular event that fits their narrative and makes it ALL the other side's fault. But there is one inescapable conclusion in my opinion: the current situation cannot continue. It has to stop. A military occupation is intended to be temporary. It's time.

Our tour guide for the day was a 26 year-old former soldier name Shay (pronounced Shy,) from a group called Breaking the Silence. That group is made up of former soldiers that are coming out about their experiences in the military, and how Palestinians are routinely humiliated and abused. (You really need to read some of their testimonies. They are chillingly brutal, in ways big and small.) Shay grew up in West Bank settlements in a very conservative family, and decided early in life that he would join a combat unit in the military to protect Israel and its citizens. You can imagine where this goes, and no, you can't dismiss his story if it doesn't fit YOUR narrative. His gung-ho soldiery gradually wilted as he saw the humiliation and degradation of Palestinians that was completely unrelated to security. You have to appreciate the strength of character and soul-searching that it takes for an Israeli to stand up for the rights of Palestinians. Those who do are marginalized and ignored, at the very least, or referred to as traitors and "self-hating Jews." Shay's current perspective: "We're not here to make the occupation better - we're here to end the occupation."

More of the story will be told with the photos below. But first: for my friends who may find this story difficult, painful, libelous or worse - keep an open mind. As I said before, you CANNOT trust the media or the government to keep you informed. Still seeing red? Then watch this very funny video, "West Bank Story." You'll love it - it won an Academy Award in 2005. Really.

Much love,
Dave

Our first stop: the grave site of Baruch Goldstein, an Israeli doctor and settler who infamously killed 29 Muslims and wounded 125 as they knelt in prayer in a mosque in Hebron, in 1994. He was beaten to death in the mosque. Originally a large shrine had been built around his grave, but was demolished by the government. The epitaph carved into the tombstone calls Dr. Goldstein a ''martyr'' with ''clean hands and a pure heart.'' A New York Times article quoted an Israeli politician about demolishing the shrine: ''A great disgrace has been wiped from our face. The other half of the stain will be removed when the shameful inscription is erased. This monument symbolized everything that is anti-Jewish, anti-Israeli and antihuman. It was a site of incitement and education for murder.'' That article was written in 1999, yet 14 years later, the epitaph remains. The rocks on top of the grave are a Jewish custom of showing respect. The vast majority of Israelis unequivocally condemn Goldstein's acts, but it was shocking, especially to the Israelis in our group, that the epitaph remains, and that some extremists still honor him.



At the lower left of the photo is a large star of David, and the brown tent is a "settler outpost." No one lives there, but because it is classified as such, it qualifies for military protection from Palestinians, which blocks their access up the stairs to the right. That's the only reason for the outpost - to make it difficult for the local Palestinians. This outpost has been dismantled and replaced over 30 times. Our guide says that the army will be seen removing it before a high-level visitor comes, then helping the settlers replace it once they've left.



In the map of Hebron below, the blue areas are Israeli settlements, four of which are right in the middle of the city. Although there are no signs on the street to indicate it, Palestinians are vastly restricted in where they can go. Red zones are completely off-limits, Purple means (I think) they aren't allowed to drive, Yellow means no shops are allowed, etc. All of this nonsense ends up with a ghost town near the settlements, which was once the busy main market of the city. Almost all Palestinians have moved out of this area because it's impossible to live there with the street restrictions and blocked access. We walked mostly along a-Shuhada Street, which you see in the lower-center of the map. (From btselem.org)



This building is empty save for one woman and her son. She's referred to by the soldiers as "the blind woman," even though she's deaf and not blind. This is on the side of town that is almost a ghost town.



This information sign was put up by the local Israeli settlers. It says, "These stores were closed by the IDF [Israeli Defense Forces] for security reasons after Arabs began the 'Oslo War' (aka The Second Intifada) in September 2000, attacking, wounding and murdering Jews on this road."



This was the main market for the town before it was closed to Palestinians in 2000. It's an eerie ghost town now, with the periodic car driving by, or soldiers patrolling. Not a single Palestinian in sight. Here's how little traffic it gets: I set my (expensive) phone down on the curb and forgot it when we walked away. I went back 15 minutes later and it was still there.



One of the four settlements in the heart of the city, and the reason for all the restrictions on movements - in the name of "security" according to the military.



An example of another street that would have been open and busy just a few years ago, but is blocked off now, and all the doors have been welded shut to keep the shop owners from entering.



More "informational" signs put up by settlers.



More shuttered markets, just across the street from a settlement.



Abandoned buildings, broken windows, welded-shut doors, just next to the settlement.



The front of one of the four settlements in the city center.



That angled metal bar is welded to the door to keep it permanently closed.



Some beautiful old closed buildings, perhaps still inhabited.



Like a crazy movie set, after walking through a military checkpost in a narrow alley, we left the sterile No Man's Land to come out into a bustling Middle Eastern city. Really surreal. Palestinians are allowed here, which accounts for the activity.



The checkpost is blamed on security, of course. But literally a few hundred meters away is another entrance from No Man's Land to this area, with no security, no military, and no restrictions about who goes where. So how does the checkpost provide security? It doesn't. It's intent, according to our guide Shay, is remind the Palestinians who is in charge. In one of the Breaking the Silence testimonies, a soldier says she would sometimes have to turn people away when the checkpost was closed, but if it was an old person she'd motion them to go to the unprotected path that everyone knows anyway. Some security.



A lovely and friendly old guy sitting by himself. He was allowed on this block, but not about 100 meters from here, even though there are no signs to indicate this.



Criminals never rest, and neither does this little crime fighter.



Somebody has to do it. (Look at those eyelashes!)



We are standing just above the settlement, where Palestinians are allowed to go. In the distance is the unrestricted, bustling part of Hebron. Down the hill and between these areas is a-Shuhada Street and some of the No-Palestinian zone.



Israel is not popular here. Jews in our group, perhaps surprisingly, were welcomed in the many interactions we had with Palestinians over the two weeks - in their homes, in shops, and in the streets. Our Israeli friends say that when they tell Palestinians in the West Bank they're Israeli, there's usually a blink of hesitation, followed by, "Welcome! My house is your house, come any time for tea." Black humor followed within our group: be careful inviting Israelis into your house - they may not leave!



One of the more ridiculous results of the occupation: a-Shuhada Street. People live in these apartments, but the front doors to their houses are welded shut by the military, because they aren't allowed to step foot onto the front of their own house. The street here is off-limits to Palestinians. The cages on their balconies are to protect them from the rocks and debris that the settlers throw at them regularly. It doesn't protect them from the eggs and insults and psychological trauma, however. I imagine the settlers feel the same way.



This lovely young Palestinian woman, "almost 20" she says, leads tours in Hebron.



Our group trying to digest and make sense of this overwhelming place. We're sitting directly across from the Tomb of the Patriarchs, if you can believe it. More modern miracles: Palestinians run this shop, but only these shopkeepers are allowed on this street. For security, of course.


A view of the city as we head out of town.



We were all geared up to be angry and pissed off at this American settler who we met with. He was going to try to tell us why it was OK for Israelis to be on Palestinian land and blah, blah, blah, which we could then mostly ignore or ridicule. Then the strangest thing happened: he's really a lovely, thoughtful, guy, very down to earth, very attached to the land, just as the Palestinians describe it for themselves, and is actively working for dialogue between Israelis and Palestinians. He was also incredibly articulate and verbally adept, and words flowed from that noggin of his like wine from a lambskin pouch. I basically agreed with everything he said except the God-gave-us-this-land thing. Talented, lovely, irritating guy. I really like him. I hate that.



The group walks back to the bus with the lovely settler in tow. This place is enough to make anybody crazy.


(The End)