U5 I Bleed For Palestine
People notice me, because I wear a kipa. The bus was filled to the
very last seat. I sat next to Maja, and wrote, and talked. It was the
two-year anniversary of the weekly protests that have been held at
Bil'in; many of the activists come week after week to support the
resistance.
Our bus stopped at a roadblock, and we crossed on foot to wait under
olive trees, until Palestinian service-taxis arrived. The Tel Aviv
crew showed up shortly thereafter. We started walking up the road, and
eventually a military jeep showed up; it was clear that the soldiers
weren't happy that there were Israelis walking towards Bil'in, but
they didn't seem prepared to do anything about it. Several of us
linked arms across the road, therefore keeping the jeep behind us (for
whatever reason). Eventually, one of the services doing laps to and
from Bil'in had space for our gang, and we piled in for a ten minute
drive.
We arrived into the village of Bil'in, a village like any other
Palestinian village in the Western reaches of the Ramallah district.
Same story as Budrus: the wall built on their land effectively
prevented Palestinians from accessing, much less farming, half of
their land. For an agricultural economy, this is devastating. I went
to the store, bought halvah, pita, and hummous. Then, like so many
internationals and Palestinians, I just hung around on the main road.
It looked like Bil'in was having a big fair; there was hot food
offered up, small children selling overpriced bags of popcorn to the
azj-nabi community.
After about the first half-hour there, I tired of the special
attention I was getting for wearing a kipa ("Ze lo tov," a Palestinian
young man tells me, pointing to my yamika. "That's not good.") In the
current state of things, the best I can hope for is to expose the
Israeli left to the idea that some people both like to davven (pray)
AND resist injustice. So I took it off, and put it into my back
pocket.
A procession was formed; we marched down from the village to the
outlying farmlands where the fence/wall-thingy (that's a technical
term) is. We chanted in Arabic, Hebrew, English about how we don't
like walls, and especially this particular one. There were border
police, jeeps, etc., on the horizon, waiting for us. Given how many
people they employ as security, I wonder if it wouldn't be more
cost-effective if they just let protestors damage the fence, and then
pay people to repair it, rather than preventing the damage in the
first place. I'm not a military contractor (at the moment), so I don't
really know.
Four or six of us formed an ad-hoc affinity group, basically knowing
to look out for each other, checking in with each other about our
wishes for this particular protest. We were more or less all in the
"hangers-back" category. So after the group arrived at the thingy,
there was some yelling, some posturing, and a few Palestinians climbed
on top of the gate connected to the thingy. One way or another they
fell off- either the gate was shaken, or they just fell, or they were
pushed off gently. One, holding a Palestinian flag with a wooden stick
breaks the stick over the head of a border-policeman (in full riot
gear, I would doubt that it hurt), and those of us lounging around
thinking, Hmm when's this thing really gonna start anyway?, started
heading quickly up the hill. We didn't wait for the response, we knew
it was coming. As I turned around I scraped my knees on a big rock
(hence the bleeding.)
Then, the usual: sound grenades (one of which hit the back of my
friend's leg, right next to me) rang in my ears, tear gas wafted from
the olive groves behind, in front of, and beside me. In a couple
minutes I was out of the "conflict zone", far enough away that any
tear gas was easily spotted lobbing towards us, and easily avoided
(paying attention to which way the wind was blowing). The shebab did
their thing: throwing rocks. They pretty much stuck to their own area,
under cover of olive groves, out of easy range by the military, which
also meant that incidentally they weren't going to be hitting anything
with the rocks besides the olive trees.
The "hardcore" group of anarchists (awalls.org) stayed right next to
the fence, amid chants of chayyelim babayita (soldiers go home), and
many other things I couldn't catch, and got soaked repeatedly with
water cannons (like the 60's in the US!) The soldiers couldn't very
well tear-gas them because they were right next to them. Many of these
folks come week after week, and get their heads bashed in, and get
arrested; what a way to end the week!
There's a strange dynamic here: unlike the United States, these
protesters generally don't get held for any period of time at all, and
don't get charged with anything. Recently, a prominent anarchist,
having been arrested dozens of times, was sentenced to a 3-month
deferred sentence, instead of the usual community service. He publicly
requested that his sentence not be deferred.
[In conclusion, Pollack addressed the judge and said "If your honor
thinks that a prison sentence is befitting the crime that I have
committed, your honor will take the liberty and personally send me to
prison right here and now."(1)]
I hung around on the hill watching the action down below for a couple
hours, and chatted with Israelis and internationals. It's kind of
surreal, but if you can avoid focusing on the crazy shit happening all
around you, it's as good a time as any to make friends :) It's fun to
act joyfully when there's teargas in the air. A few hours later
shabbat was coming, and I had to get back to Jerusalem. I rode with
Arik Ascherman, the paid staff of Rabbis for Human Rights(2), in order
to get back for shabbat.
I was supposed to bring "chunky" salad, and I apologized profusely as
I entered my friend's home who was hosting shabbat, that I hadn't made
arrangements to be able to bring it, and by now stores were closing,
and I still needed to change out of my tear-gas clothing. They
graciously welcomed me without salad, and I was able to help them
prepare the space before going to synagogue with my friends.
Who would I see at synagogue, except for Rabbi Joey! My very own rabbi
that I grew up with, who performed my Bar Mitzvah.
And then shabbat! Who can say anything bad about shabbat.
Reconstructionist minyan in the morning, where I saw an old friend who
used to live in Olympia! She's hanging out in Deheisha Refugee Camp
these days. Later, a picnic lunch, carrying mattresses on our heads
the fifteen minute walk to the little park. Played a little frisbee
until it broke. Found another Josh who wants to check out Ramallah;
We'll go together next week.
Purim update coming sooner than you expect.
Peace y'all,
Jacob in J-Town
p.s. I'm really in favor of the two "sides" at a protest
choreographing the event beforehand, so that they are able to have the
magnificent processions that they would like to have, but no one has
to get hurt.
First come the Palestinians, dressed as militants, keffiyehs wrapped
around all parts of their bodies, armed to the teeth, shooting in the
air, and blaring slogans through overpowered megaphones. A huge
contingency just sets up mats and starts praying (and prays for the
duration).
The Internationals come forward, hiding behind the Palestinians,
wearing T-shirts that read proudly, "I'm with Mohammed." We are
equipped with every kind of media capturing device imaginable, and
hold signs ragging on Israel, the USA, and/or our home country.
The Israeli anarchists come in, dressed in various shades of black (in
reality the anarchists here are a very diverse group of young folks,
moreso than in the US), piercings gleaming and all kinds of home-made
anti-soldier weapons and protection gear hanging off their torn
clothing. They lead the charge, and smash through a huge chunk of
concrete wall, and then clear away for the shebab to launch rocks with
slingshots that have a battery-powered sling-action. A huge volley of
rocks destroy the first several jeeps, before the batteries run out.
The IDF comes swooping through with F14's and shoot tear-gas missiles
into the crowd (not real tear-gas), and then a staged fight takes
place between humongous Border Police and Israeli anarchists. Those
who wanted to be arrested give a good fight, but in the end are
subdued by legions of soldiers. Those arrested get to decide what, if
anything, they want to be convicted of, and how long they want to be
held. All sides meet up later in Qalandia for some knafe (sweet cheese
dessert) and to critique the performance.
There's potential here for Israeli-Palestinian cooperation. It would
increase tourism. Palestinians, Israelis, and especially
Internationals would come from all over to see these legendary
show-downs. It's better than the operahouses, whose conflicts are
quite passe.
(2) http://www.rhr.israel.net
(3) Video from the demo: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5WOQWxMXGdU
Labels: israel-palestine
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