Nablus stands in solidarity with Fallujah

For the past week, the US coalition forces have pounded the city of Fallujah in an attempt to recapture the city from the Iraqi resistance. In Palestine, the invasion and occupation of Iraq is viewed by many Palestinians as simply an extension of the US and Israel's middle policy as practiced against the Palestinian people and other Arab countries.

The Palestinian people see many parallels between the US occupation of Iraq and the Israeli occupation of Palestine. In particular they recognised the familiar practice of collective punishment that is now being carried out in Iraq by the Coaliton forces, a practice which the Coalition Forces have adopted from Israel.

Such practice, illegal under international law, has long been used by the IOF in the Occupied Territory and is now used regularly in Iraq and includes the mass rounding up and arrest of young men (and occassionally women), the arrest of women to pressure family members and suspected supporters of the insurgents, the collective bulldozing of houses, crops, fields and buildings as punishment, as well as the raids and intimidation of families.

On Tuesday, Nov 16, the Palestinian activists in the Palestinian city of Nablus, along with international activists carried out a solidarity action in support of the people of Fallujah. Nablus, for the past several months has been a declared a "closed military zone" by the IOF, allowing the Israeli security forces to restrict the presence of international media and human rights observers as they carry out assasinations, bulldozing and razing of houses and mass arrests, including arresting children (male and female) under the age of 16 years.

Below is an email sent by international activist who have been able to reach Nablus:

Tuesday November 16, 2004
by J and A in Nablus

Palestinians and members of the ISM in Nablus displayed a message of solidarity today with the people of Fallujah. At 5:30 PM, the word “Fallujah” was set ablaze on a mountain north of Nablus, known as Jabl-an-Naar (Mountain of Fire). Written in Arabic, the word was about 30 yards long and 10 yards wide, and expressed the commiseration that the people of Nablus feel for Fallujah, another city suffering under military occupation.

Like the war against Iraq with its attacks on Fallujah, which have had disastrous effects on civilians and civilian infrastructure in the city, Nablus has also suffered from invasion by occupation forces, ostensibly to combat terrorism. One Nablus resident, Nizar Kamal, stated, "On behalf of residents of the Old City of Nablus, the massacre in Fallujah announces the death of international conscience."


The press release for the event read:

People of Nablus will light the night sky with a message of solidarity written in fire to the people of Fallujah. It is to be held at 6 pm on the northern mountain in Nablus.

Around 3 p.m. Palestinians, along with internationals, began to arrive at the site. Shortly afterwards, neighborhood residents joined to help construct the path of the fire. Other groups from the community also arrived, including volunteer medical workers. Local Palestinian television arrived before the fire and interviewed many of the local Palestinian and internationals at the site.

Building the word that would be set on fire was challenging because the landscape was steep and rocky. Spelling out the word with rope and then using that as a guide to pour sand on it proved to be a solid plan. Sand was poured and people placed barriers of loose stone around it to help keep it in place. Petrol was poured on the sand and at approximately 5:30, as darkness set in, it was set ablaze. Although there was some uncertainty about the success of the project, it was ultimately successful, as the fire burned brightly and clearly for about 15 minutes. Reports came from all over the city that Nablus residents saw the message and were grateful and moved by the action.

There is agreement that there would be an attempt tomorrow to relight the fires. However, because the early winter’s rains are beginning to fall, there is no guarantee that it can be done. If nothing else, the fire that lit up the mountain with the words “Fallujah” was an inspiration for those who witnessed and participated in constructing it.

Yasser Arafat's Death and return to Ramallah

Arafat’s Death

On Thursday, November 11, Yasser Arafat, elected president of the Palestinian people died. On November 12 his body was returned from France to be buried in the Muqata compound which had been his headquarters and prison for almost three years.

During the week preceding his death, I had also come to Al Quds (Jerusalem) to finally take some long overdue days off. Also there were three of my colleagues and friends from IWPS, two whom were there to go to other meetings and one who was spending her last day in Al Quds before she left for the United States.

All week prior to his death, we along with the Palestinians, had stayed tuned to the news waiting to hear about Arafat. I had lost count of how many times we heard that he was dead or that his death would be announced in an hour, two hours etc. All week the speculation continued. And as the Israeli and international media tried in an increasingly unbecoming manner to outdo each other to be the first to announce his death, we waited. We waited to see what would happen: how the Palestinians would react, how the Israelis would react, how the world would react.

Everywhere we went people were talking about Arafat. On Tuesday, which also was the 27th day of Ramadan, the most holiest of all Muslim days – the day that the prophet Mohammed had supposedly ascended to heaven to receive the holy Koran and scriptures – the rumour that Arafat was already dead and that his death would be announced from Al Asqa Mosque on this most holiest of nights.

As we returned in the afternoon to the old city via the rampants (the walk along the top of the old city walls) and through the Jewish quarter via the western wall (the wailing wall), we were confronted with hundreds of Israeli police and Israel Occupation Forces (IOF) pouring into the Muslim quarter. When we got back to the hostel, we heard once again that it had been announced on BBC radio that Arafat’s death would be announced in two hours - at 7pm from the Mosque. We waited and 7pm came and went and like all the other rumours and media initiated speculation it turned out not to be true, but still the IOF and police patrolled the streets and roofs of the old city. From the roof of our hostel, where we had gone to see what was going on, we had a not only a stunning view of the old city, but also the disturbing sight of IOF snipers stationed on the roofs through out the quarter.

We awoke the next day to the sounds of the Koran being read from the minarets and we knew Arafat was dead. Kate and I had planned even before Arafat's death to go to Ramallah in the afternoon to visit some friends and to interview some people, but after watching the official announcement on the television, we gathered our overnight bags and headed for Qalandia and Ramallah.

At Qalandia, the main permanent checkpoint entrance into Ramallah, it was quite as it was still Ramadan, but there were more IOF stationed around the checkpoint then normal. Despite this, however, we were able to make our way through the checkpoint without any trouble and were soon in serveece (shared taxi) into the heart of Ramallah.

As we made our way down to the Muqata (Arafat's compound), I rang RC to see whether she was in Ramallah, which she was and we arranged to catch up. When Kate and I arrived at the Muqata, a rally of around 1000 people was taking place and the media was everywhere. The rally, carrying pictures of Arafat and many people wearing the kaffeyah, then marched back to the Menara Circle in the centre of Ramallah.

RC and I stayed in contact through out the day. At one stage she had gone to the Qalandia to meet NH and rang to tell me that the IOF had began firing on the shabab (Palestinian boys) who had been throwing stones. Another friend who was on her way through the checkpoint at the time later told me that because of the international media present, the IOF were forced eventually to back off.

In the evening, I meet up with RC and NH. They were staying with a Palestinian friend of theirs in a Ramallah suburb and I was invited to stay the night, which I did. The next day, we spent the early morning watching the official funeral ceremony in Cairo on television. S, who we were staying with and her friend who came to visit, told us how angry they were at the new Palestinian leadership for not fighting to have the official ceremony in Ramallah and for not fighting for Arafat to be buried in Al Quds. They felt that already the new leadership had begun to sell out the Palestinian people.

As Arafat's body was returned to the helicopter and started to depart for Ramallah, we got ready and made our way down to the Muqata. The scene there was in stark contrast to the day previously. The day of his death had been relatively subdued and I have to admit I was quite thrown by the fact the crowds were so small. Today, however, was a different story. There were tens of thousands of people everywhere, on the walls of the compound, on the roofs of the surrounding buildings, in the trees and any possible vantage point.

Within 5 minutes of being there, we had all become separated from each other. I walked down towards the main entrance of the Muqata. Along the way, I ran into many Palestinians I had met while I have been here, as well as activists from the International Solidarity Movement (ISM) who traveled from Nablus to get there. One of them told me that they had encountered 10 mobile IOF checkpoints along the way, an incredibly high number.

Despite the crush of the crowd, within 10 minutes I was inside the Muqata. Tens of thousands of Palestinians were inside the compound, many had climbed a top of the devastated and bombed out buildings to gain a better view.

The rubble and dirt mounds resulting from the Israeli military bombardment of the compound now acted as bleachers for thousands of Palestinians, as did the dozens of car wreckages left from the Israeli bombings. Palestinians had climbed a top the devastated buildings and infrastructures in their hundreds. Huge 20 metre posters with Arafat’s image on them hung from buildings, along with giant green, black, white and red Palestinian flags. Smaller versions of Arafat’s image were carried in his honour by thousands of Palestinians in the crowd, along with the familiar and illegal (under Israeli military law) Palestinian flag.

As people waited, chants went up: To Al Quds we shall go! Martyrs in the Millions! With our blood and our soul, we will follow you! Sporadically, the militants in the crowd fired off bullets. The PA security forces repeatedly tried in vain to clear a path for dignitaries to traverse, but the crowds were too big for the cleared paths to last more then 5 or 10 minutes.

At 2.30pm, the cry went up from the crowd and everyone began too look skyward. At first I could not see anything, but soon four small specs appeared on the skyline. Four helicopters, one carrying Arafat's body.

As the helicopters began their flyover of the compound, I unexpectantly began to cry. I felt completely overwhelmed by the moment. Arafat was dead and still the Palestinians did not have a state to call their own.

In the days and weeks preceding his death, I had spoken with many Palestinians about him and how they felt. Like many Palestinians, I too had my criticism of Arafat. I had criticised him for his shortcomings and his failures, as they had. And while there were many who criticised his politics and his failings, they all, however, agreed on one thing: Arafat had been chosen by the people as their elected leader and he was the one Palestinian who had responsible for bringing the cause of the Palestinian people to the international stage and that was his greatest achievement. And for that they were grateful.

As Palestinian American Michael Odetalla said when he wrote of Arafat’s death ( http://www.palestinemonitor.org/new_web/eyeitness_archive.htm ), “Yasser Arafat was by no means a perfect man…[but he made] sure the Palestinian people would not be cast aside and forgotten as the early Zionist founders of the state of Israel had hoped and worked for”.

Arafat, writes Odetalla, made sure that David Ben Gurion’s prediction, “The old will die and the young will forget”, made in reference to the Palestinian people and the catastrophe of being ethnically cleansed from their ancestral homeland, never came true. “Yasser Arafat made sure that the young would never forget” writes Odetalla.

“In a world that would have liked to see the Palestinians "just go away", he made sure that we didn't, that we were and ARE a people, complete with our own history and identity: Palestinian”.

“He forced an uncaring world to see us as a people, not just a collection of rag tag refugees. He instilled in us hope and pride, even in our darkest hours, when the rest of the world could have cared less about our plight, dreams, and aspirations. When the late Israeli Prime Minister Golda Meir arrogantly announced to the world that "there was no such thing as a Palestinian people", Yasser Arafat was there, defiantly proving to her and the rest of the world that we exist!”

Despite whatever failings and shortcomings Arafat had, he was also the one leader that had never deserted them and like the tens of thousands of Palestinians around me, I felt overwhelmed by the sadness and loss that they felt.

As the helicopters landed, in one voice the Palestinian people began to chant, "Yasser, Yasser, Yasser" in honour of their leader. The helicopter carrying his body was soon swamped by Palestinians and it was a half an hour before his body was finally be able to be loaded onto a vehicle to be driven the short distance to the compound buildings.

I was now standing along the side of the route which the casket would traverse and as it came near the crowd surged forward to touch their leader for the last time. Just three feet from where the vehicle past, myself and some of the ISMers were caught in the crush.

As we attempted to get out of the way, I saw RC and we decided to follow the crowd towards where Arafat had been taken. We were standing talking when unexpectantly, the vehicle with Arafat's body turned around and made it way back past us. This time I could literally have reach out and touch the casket but we were more intent on trying to stay up right and not fall and be crushed or trampled by the surging crowd. At one stage, I could not move as the crowd stomped on my foot and crushed us as they tried to either reach the casket or get out of the way of the vehicle. It was only due to the fact that myself, RC and some of the activists from the ISM stayed closely together, trying to support each other to ensure we did not fall under the crowd, that we stayed upright.

As the crowd eventually began to disperse an hour or so later, I was finally able to find Kate and our other friends who she had also come down to the Muqata with. We had originally hoped to meet up earlier in the morning but due to the crowd size this was impossible. At the end of the day, we slowly regrouped made our way back to the house of a Palestinian friend, where we dinner before returning to Al Quds (we later heard that the IOF/Israeli Police had clashed with hundreds on the Temple Mount at the Dome of the Rock – primarily because the Israeli security forces had taken the stupid decision to not allow any men under 45 years of age to enter the city to pray. According to one report, there were 5000 police deployed to the area).

We sat in S’s house – internationals, Israeli's and Palestinians and we discussed the day and the sadness we all felt, but we also discussed what next: would things be different? would his death be a catalyst? what would happen? what will the Palestinian people do?

We all had our thoughts on it, but none of us had a definitive answer. But what we did know was that the occupation continues and that Israel would continue to act as the oppressor.

What we did know was that more then ever the Palestinian people today need the solidarity of all those, as Che Guevara once said, "who tremble at every injustice".

What we did know was that the struggle for a free Palestine would continue, even without the Palestinian leader they called Abu Ammar and that one day Palestine would really be free.

The Wall: a land grab that creates violence

Since my last report a lot has happened over the three weeks. As you know there was the suicide bombing in Tel Aviv on Monday. Fortunately, Kate and I were around a kilometre away from the explosion. We had gone to Tel Aviv the evening before and were due to head back on Monday morning. However, I had gotten lost and ended up in a Tel Aviv suburb and by the time I got back, it was just after 11 am. We were inside the Central Bus station complex, which is a huge 7 storey building, at the time of the explosion (11.15 am) and did not hear it.

However, we knew something had happened, as we were delayed for an hour at roadblocks set up just outside of Tel Aviv, which was highly unusual, as generally such roadblocks do not happen in Israel proper only in the West Bank. We realised when we got back to Haris that Kate had been quite near the site of the explosion earlier that morning when she had attended an
appointment in the area.

In the week leading up to the bombing, there had been heaps of extra checkpoints and roadblocks and since the number of roadblocks and flying checkpoints has increased. The house of the family of the 16 year old boy who carried out the bombing was bulldozed by the Israeli Occupation Forces (IOF) early on Tuesday morning, which is standard IOF practice unfortunately. The response by the IOF, while being quick, has not been on the scale that it usually is, this is probably because of the situation with Arafat being ill and out of the country, that they don’t want to inflame it more.

The suicide bombing, as terrible as it was, has shown that the reasons given by the Sharon government for building the wall does not hold. Two thirds of the wall is build and the wall has been completed in the West Bank areas closest to Tel Aviv. In these areas, the wall has resulted in the complete enclosure of Palestinian cities such as Tulkarem and Qalqilia. I have now had the opportunity to visit Tulkarem and to visit twice the city of Qalqilia, both times with our international teams and each visit has been intense and emotionally distressing in someway or another for everyone. The first visit to Qalqilia, however, of course was the most intense.

I had heard about Qalqilia both before I left Australia, but also after I got here from other Internationals and Palestinians.In particular, my friend Mohammed, who is from Qalqilia had told me about the increasing difficult situation for the town of 45,000 people. Mohammed had told me about the "tunnel" which the IOF had built, which the people had to now pass through. "We are now like rats", he once said. Recently Mohammed had found work in another city, so he was not in Qalqilia when we visit, but he offered to organise for a friend (another Mohammed) to show us around.

When we arrived at the main entrance of Qalqilia (and as it turned out only entrance open into the city), it was sheer pandemonium. Cars, trucks, donkeys and carts were backed up for over a kilometer on the cityside of the checkpoint and for about a half a kilometre on ourside. One of our drivers was not keen to go through the Maschom (Army checkpoint), so all 15 of us piled out of the two cars we came in and proceed to walk through. The soldiers at the checkpoint were dumbstruck by so many foreigners entering the city. When he asked what we were doing, I responded that we "were just visiting friends". Perplexed and not knowing really what else to say, he repeated lamely what so many other soldiers I had encountered had also said to me on a number of occasions: "it’s very dangerous in there".

Mohammed organised for us to visit the Mayoral offices, where the Mayor gave us a 45 minute presentation on the effect the wall had had on the town. It was shocking to see photographs of the city before the wall was built and the subsequent destruction that came with it.

Side by side, the photographs stood. On one side stood a photograph of what once had been the main entrance to the city: immaculate streets, lined with trees and manicured median strips and shops. Next to it, a scene of destruction: the street no longer even vaguely recognisable: no trees, no grass, just sheets of tin, broken glass and wood, not a single building left
standing, all destroyed in one night.

It reminded me of the photographs that I had seen taken in the aftermath of one of Australia’s worst natural disasters, Cyclone Tracy, which devastated Darwin in 1974. Only the destruction depicted in this photograph was not natural, it was man-made, it was deliberate and it was done as an act of intimidation.

Another photograph showed green, lush agricultural fields. Its counterpart showed the land as it is today, in the aftermath of the wall: arid, devastated, scarred and no longer capable of sustaining life. The wall has all but devastated the economy of the city. Much of agricultural land has been confiscated, along with 15 of the city’s 39 wells. Unemployment is now
well over 65% of the population.

After we left the Mayoral offices, we piled into serveeces (shared taxis) and Mohammed took us too the wall. Our first stop was tunnel that the other Mohammed had told me about. When we arrived, the tunnel had been closed for two days (it and all the other entrances except the one we entered have remained closed ever since, for well over 3 weeks now).

The tunnel is 60 metres wide and 300 kilometres long, either side of it runs a 4 meter deep trench, which runs the length of the electronic fence above the tunnel and which runs till it meets the 8 metre high slaps of concrete which make up the wall. Above the tunnel runs an IOF/Border Police patrol road and on the Habala (the neighbouring village) side of the tunnel access are two no-man’s which Palestinian farmers have no access too.

The confiscation of land for Israeli military purposes, along with the IOF’s refusal to issue permits to farmers to access their land near these military zones or the wall/fences is yet another demonstration of how Israel steals the Palestinian’s land and makes it their own.

According to Israeli law (adopted from the British Mandate period), if the Palestinians don’t access this land for three years, it automatically becomes state land. It does not matter, however, that the reason they did not access their land, is precisely because the Israel Military machine prevented them from doing so by either putting up huge walls, electric fences, barbwire and refusing repeated requests for permits by land owners to access their lands.

Mohammed then took us to other sections of the wall. One of the areas, include a section of the wall which has become "infamous", at least here in Palestine. It is the section of wall, which I recognised immediately from many of the anti-wall posters in our house and elsewhere. On the wall in front of me, the site of many anti-wall protests was grafitti in Spanish, English and other languages.

One section the graffiti said "Hasta La Victoria Siempre", while another said "Welcome to the Jewish Shame". And another "the new wailing wall". As I walked up to the wall to read the graffiti and to touch the wall, the anger in me swelled and I wanted to cry, but I held back my tears Mohammed told us how a nearby girl’s school was regularly targeted by the IOF. From the huge watch towers in the wall near the school, the IOF regularly fire off tear gas at the school, forcing the girls to leave their class rooms and the school to be closed on a regular basis.

Our last stop was what had once been the main entrance of Qalqilia. As I mentioned we had seen photographs of it in the Mayoral presentation: immaculate, clean and inviting but now it was a desolate, dusty and arid. On both visits to the city, I approached the barbwire to take a photograph near one of the watch towers in which we could see soldiers moving about.

On my second visit there, Mohammed had joked with me that the soldiers would be taking our photograph and they would show them to me as I left the country (you are questioned/interrogated both entering and leaving Israel). I joked with him, that maybe if it was a nice photograph of us, that I should ask them if I could have a copy.

Despite our light hearted banter, I found both my visits to Qalqilia incredibly hard. I had to seen the wall before, but my first visit to Qalqilia especially brought the impact and devastation of the wall home to me and I had to fight back the tears several times. At times, I had to walk away from our group and to take some deep breaths. I did not want to cry in front of Mohammed or our any of the Palestinians who had accompanied us, for as Internationals we can come and go and we can go home at anytime but for the Palestinians this is an every day reality. As horrible as it was, I knew that solidarity is what the Palestinians need, not my tears.

The loss of the three Israeli lives in Tel Aviv on Monday was a terrible thing and it was strange to know that we were so close to the site of the bombing. But as Monday’s bombing has shown, the wall will not stop suicide bombings. It will not bring an end to violence. Instead, the wall will only increase the violence. This is because the wall is not about security but about annexing more of the Palestinian lands and resources. It is about dispossessing the Palestinians people once again of their land and their heritage. It is about continuing the illegal military occupation of Palestine and continuing 50 years of illegal oppression and repression against the men, women and children of Palestine.

The wall is part of the Israeli state terror campaign. A campaign, that seeks to dehumanise and collectively punish the Palestinian people. A campaign, that has resulted in over 3300 Palestinians killed (700 of them children) and 53,000 Palestinians wounded in the last four years alone. A campaign which has resulted in thousands of Palestinian homes demolished, tens of thousands of dunums of land stolen, thousands of Palestinian olive trees groves cut and burnt to the ground, 700 Palestinian schools destroyed or damaged and over 7000 Palestinians jailed, many indefinitely and the vast majority without charge or trail or on spurious grounds.

It is Israel state terrorism, repression and dehumanisation of an entire people which breeds individual terrorism. As longs as the illegal military occupation of Palestine continues, suicide bombings, unfortunately will continue to happen and lives on both sides of the wall will continue to be devastated.

Olive harvest and visit to destroyed Palestinian 48er village

Despite the fact that the Gaza offensive continues, my past week to 12 days has been relatively peaceful, however, our minds are never far from what is happening just a mere hundred or more kilometres away from us.

October is olive harvest month and the IWPS, along with other international solidarity organisations such as the ISM and Israeli peace groups spend much of the month working with Palestinian villagers and their families to try and ensure that the crop is harvested safely.

Helping to co-ordinate olive harvest for the IWPS (and our three international brigades from the USA, Great Britain and Austria/Germany) is one of the main assignments I have agreed to take on here. While we do assist in a hands on way by participating in the actual picking, this is not our primary task. Our main task is to work with the villages to help coordinate an international presence to try to help ensure that Palestinian farmers and their families not harassed or attacked by settlers or the Israeli Occupation Forces (IOF) while they are trying to harvest their crops.

Much of the land on which the olive groves are located has either been expropriated by the illegal settlements, which means that the families need to try and gain access to their land which is now inside the settlements or located just outside the settlements fences and gates. In addition, huge swaths of olive groves have also been lost behind the illegal Apartheid wall and farmers need to gain access their land, which is either behind the wall or located near it.

To gain access to their land, Palestinians have to apply for permits from Israel, however, even if they do this and are granted permits there is no guarantee that they will be able to pick. The IOF may decided, for reason often only known to them, not to open the gates, or to deny them access to their land or they may only issue permits to one member of the family and not the rest.

So far this year, the IOF have been reasonably well behaved in the Salfit region, at least compared to previous year, however, in the Nablus area they have been extremely belligerent and declared today that the farmers now only have 3 days to complete their harvest (many farmers have not even started). Yesterday, five internationals, including RC and NH were detained for 5 hours for the ‘crime’ of assisting with the olive harvest in a closed military zone. They were, however, released unharmed and on the condition that they would not enter what the Israeli’s call Samaria (the northern part of the West Bank) for the next two weeks.

In Salfit (where we are located) it has been a different story so far and our primary problem with the IOF here has been bureaucratic, with them not always opening the gates at the assigned times or they have closed them early. On our first day of picking in Mas’ha they tried to stop Israelis or Internationals from entering the settlements as well as entering back into Palestine, but after several phone calls and an hour of debate, we have been able to get through. While the IDF tend to take bureaucratia to a new level, it is often the settlers who pose the most danger, particularly those in the more ideological/religious settlements.

Settlements, like Israeli society, are divided into religious settlements and secular settlements. Many of the secular settlements are made up of poorer Jewish immigrants and workers who primarily move to the settlements to take advantage of the huge monetary incentives and subsidies provided by the government. The religious settlements are those populated by the fundamentalist right who believe that the land was given to them by god and the Palestinians must be driven out so as to ensure that Eretz Israel (greater Israel) is established.

Picking in settlements has its problems, but it is picking near the religious/ideological settlements is the most dangerous, especially for Palestinians, as well as the Israeli activists (as they seen as traitors by the settlers). Yesterday, I received a phone call from one of the villages we are working with telling us that they had been attacked by settlers and their harvesting equipment stolen and some of their groves had been burned by settlers. We later heard that 3 settler youths had been detained, but Israel is much like the old American south before the civil rights movement, where whites could basically do what they like to Negros, including murder, and get away with it.

In Israel settlers or Israelis are rarely charged with assaults, attacks or the murder of Palestinians or if they are they receive minor penalties. Just last week, a settler shot and murdered a Palestinian taxi driver, his sentence – if you can call it that – was house detention. The reason for the proclamation of the 3 day only period for harvesting in Nablus is because settlers (or some reports say the soldiers) attacked and shot a Palestinian farmer in the neck, killing him and now the IOF in that region has declared that the olive season "threatened the lives of Israeli settlers".

Today, I picked in the village of Marda, which comrades may be surprised to hear has a small Venezuelan community. Apparently, they are Palestinians who had immigrated to Venezuela but returned after the first intifada with Venezuelan citizenship. I have not had the opportunity to discuss Chavez with them yet, but it is definitely on my list of things to do. When there are no hassles from the IOF or the settlers like today, picking can be quite fun and can be quite therapeutic as it can be, as one of our team members put it, almost "zen-like". You are usually quite dirty by the end of the day and exhausted but you get to hang out with ordinary Palestinian families and talk with them, joke and share meal with them.

One of the other great experiences that I got to be part in was when a number of us from IWPS spent the afternoon with an Israeli activist group called Zochrot. Zochrot means, "Remembering" in Hebrew and they work to raise awareness about Al Nakba (the catastrophe of 1948) amongst Israelis. Their hope is that by trying to raise awareness amongst Israelis of what happened to the Palestinians that they can broaden public awareness and support for the Palestinian right of return. They do this by documenting what happened, by working with Palestinians to teach and commemorate the historical injustices committed against the people of Palestine, including conducting commemoration tours and documenting the history of the destroyed villages.

Along with around 100 Israelis and Palestinians we visited the remains of the village of Al Lajun (http://www.nakbainhebrew.org/index.php?id=168). The land on which the village of Al Lajun existed is now occupied by the Megiddo Kibbutz. The tour of the village was conducted by refugees from the village who told us how Al Nakba had affected their families and their lives. The tour was very moving, we visited the residential area of the village, as well as the market areas. The only evidence left of this once thriving Palestinian village was overgrown stones, as well its graveyard and mosque. After the destruction of the village, the state of Israel moved quickly to plant trees to disappear the existence of the village. In the 80s, the Kibbutz started to use the graveyard to dump rubbish and the villagers mounted a legal action to stop it (which they won). The only standing building left is the mosque but it is located inside the kibbutz and permission to visit it is genera! lly denied, just as it was denied on the day we visited.

The Megiddo area has been the site of many historical battles between the tribes and nations of Assyria, Egypt, Canaan, Hittite, Judea, Rome, Greece, Persia and Babylon. The fields of Megiddo which surround where the village once existed is the location for, according to the New Testament of the bible, the site of Armageddon or where the masses of troops will gather for last battle between good and evil.

Today, Megiddo is also the site of the Israeli military prison where Palestinians from the West Bank are housed. I had not realised that the prison was directly across the road from the remains of the village and words cannot really describe the complete shock I felt as the prison suddenly came into view as we passed it in the bus on the way to the village.

My first thought was that it looked exactly like the Nazi concentration camps that Jews and political prisoners were murdered in during WWII and I wondered how the majority of ordinary Israelis could not see that this and be disturbed by it as much as I was.

My second thought was for the prisoners inside the camp, many of them like Rabia, the 19 year old son of our neighbours, who was being detained in the prison under horrendous conditions. Rabia was arrested just before I arrived, as he was crossing from Palestine into Jordan to go to a conference in France. When he was detained, the Israeli authorities accused him of working with terrorists. When he told them he work with Israeli peace activists, apparently the response from the military was "that is even worse"

Just a little way up from the prison at the Megiddo Junction, however, there was a much more inspiring and positive site. Bat Shalom had erected their annual Sukkah for Peace to mark the Sukkot holidays, which is also known as the Feast of Tabernacles and is the Jewish holiday, which celebrates peace and happiness. For three days, the Sukkah or peace tent play hosts to Israeli and Palestinian peace activists and organisations and includes educationals, movement discussions, action planning and a vigil. We briefly visited the tent, but were unable to stay for more then 15 minutes unfortunately, but it was great to see so many people there.

Touring Israel and visit to Aida refugee camp in Bethlehem

Every two weeks we are due a 3 day break, however, Stacey (another IWPS woman) and myself decided to wait four weeks instead and take 5 days off altogether so we could spend a solid amount of time travelling. We decided to hire a car in Tel Aviv and after making a short stop at the Australian Embassy to vote, we headed for old city in Jaffa to have lunch with one of the Israeli activists we had meet at the Budrus demo.

Old Jaffa is like the Arab quarters of other Israeli cities. It is poor but also very colourful with bustling souqs and markets and great cheap food. After having a wander around the souq and trying out my haggling skills, we had lunch at a wonderful café in a former mosque overlooking Jaffa beach. We had planned to make our way up the coast that afternoon, but were convinced to stay the night. We spent the rest of the afternoon down at the beach watching the most incredible sunset, eating icecr! eam and drinking beer. It was hard to believe sitting there that there people being killed in Gaza, just 40 minutes away.

Sitting on the beach at Jaffa, I felt a sense of beauty and contentment, as well as a sense of relief, as well as feeling of sadness and anger. Beauty and contentment because Israel/Palestine is an extremely beautiful country. Relief because it was nice to be able to sit on a beach and just hang out with people and de-stress. Sadness and anger because just 60 kilometres, 45 minutes or so away from this beautifully serene place, Sharon’s army was murdering and wounding children indiscriminately, destroying countless lives, homes, schools and olive groves. This mixed bag of feelings was something I was to experience a number of times over the next few days as I travelled around.

It is so hard to describe Israel/Palestine as it has a beauty of its very own, one which is very different from Australia and from Europe. Israeli cities are incredibly westernised and as Stacey said to me, "if you ever wondered what a city in America looked like, you just have take a look around here" and while I suppose they have their own kind of attractiveness, it was the old cities, the Arab quarters of the cities which to me were the most beautiful.

Our first stop along the Mediterrean Coast was Ceasara, which was build by Herod the Great in 1 BC in honour of Ceasar Augustus. In Ceasara, as I sat on the carved steps of the hippodrome looking out over the ocean, I had the sudden (if not belated) realisation of this is exactly what Apartheid looks like, at least from the side of the oppressor.

As we had wandered around the ruins of the ancient city, we did not see a single Palestinian or Arabic person, although the site was filled with tourists and Israelis enjoying their holiday long weekend. I also realised that for a great many of the Israelis here, Palestinians or Arabs (as Palestinians are called by most Israelis) did not even figure on their radar except as "terrorists".
During my four weeks here, I have been fortunate enough to meet some great activists from the radical Israeli left (many of them anarchists) who work closely with Palestinians, who travel frequently to the West Bank and are active in the opposition to Zionism and the Israeli state. However, during this time, on my visits to the Israeli cities, I have also met what you could call "ordinary Israelis", whose hatred, ignorance, prejudice and stereotyping of Palestinians and Arabs is astounding. These Israelis, like many of the countrymen and women, have been taught that "Arabs" hate them, that they want to kill them and that "Arabs" are inferior in everyway to Israelis or Jews. Their ignorance of what their country and military does to Palestinians and the connection this has to the militant suicide bombings is not only astonishingly but also frightening.

There is little or no compassion amongst these Israelis for the devastation they are causing or any comprehension that they have become the oppressor. In their minds they are still the victims and while I see the trappings of a police state and oppression everywhere I go, they are completely oblivious to it or the irony that they have become what they had once despised.

As Dorothy, a wonderful 70 year old Israeli activist I have become friends with (and whose husband is a holocaust survivor) recently commented to me, "I use to wonder how the Germans could say that they did not know what the Nazis did to the Jews, but now I understand. Our people don't want to know what we are doing to the Palestinians. They chose to live in ignorance and hatred because if they really acknowledged what we were doing they could not live with themselves".

Dorothy and her husband, Israel are both active in the peace movement. Israel, along with his immediate family, fled Austria and the Nazis (although much of his extended family perished in the concentration camps). Israeli arrive in Palestine in 1936. He was an engineer in the army and fought against the British, as well as in the 1948, 1967 and 1973 Israeli wars. They both had travelled and lived overseas for much of their life and it was only when they moved back to live in Israel permanently that they had their "political awakening" in 2000.

In Haifa later that night, this sense of Apartheid was reinforced, as the Israeli hosts of the hostel we stayed in told us we should be careful about going to and staying in the old city in nearby Akko (Acre) because it was particularly dangerous for women, especially at night. This warning reinforced once again other conversations I had with different "ordinary" Israelis I had meet, which revealed that Israeli Zionist world view of Arabs and Palestinians is dominated by ignorance, stereotypes, racism and western cultural imperialism.

Haifa is one of the biggest Israeli cities on the coast and is a wonderful mix of just about everything, as well as all three of the dominant religions as well as a couple of extra ones. The centre of Haifa is dominated by the Ba’hai gardens – 19 immaculately terraced gardens that extend from the summit of Mt Carmel down to the German Colony and overlook the bay of Haifa. Ba’hai as a religion was founded in Iran and is a 19th century split from Islam and there apparently 5 million followers worldwide. The gardens are stunningly breath! taking; our first glimpse of them was unexpected as we turned up Ben Guiron Street to find our hostel. From the top of the Gardens there is an equally stunning view of Haifa Bay.

Despite the protestations of our Haifa Hostel hosts, we decided we take the "risk" of visiting and staying in the old city of Akko or Acre as it was called during historical times. Of all the places we visited during our break, I have to say Acre was by far my favourite (closely followed by the Galillee).

Old Acre is a testiment to the Crusades. It was the capital of the Crusader Empire during the 10th and 11th century and the old city. It is dominated by the remnants of the Crusader Citadel, which remains in very good shape despite the fact that it is around 1000 years old. In the 18th century, the city withstood a 60-day siege by Napoleon Bonaparte, who had to retreat unable to fully breach the walls. During the British Mandate prison, the Crusader Citadel was also used to house the Jewish Irgun and Haganah prisoners. The old city was abandoned by the zionists living in its walls in the 1930s when Palestinains demonstrated against the increase in Jewish immigration to Palestine,growing zionist influence and disputes of access to holy sites.

We spent the evening in (and returned there the next morning) the Marina area of the old city. We had dinner at a restaurant that was on a terrace, which had a stunning view overlooking water and out into the Bay where you could see Haifa lit up and we later went for a wander along the top of the walls and had a wine/coffee at one of the little bars near by.

Our final day was spent in the Galillee region, where we visited the Nazareth and the Sea of Galillee. The Sea, once again, is just beautiful and I would have loved more time to stay there, but we made the most of what we had. Unfortunately, we missed out visiting the archeological digs at Capernaum (the main town of Jesus’ ministry in the Galillee) but we did get to take a look around St Peter’s Primacy (where Jesus appeared to Peter after the resurrection to tell him to carry on his teachings) and Tabagh which is where the miracle of the multiplication of the Fishes and Loaves is suppose to have taken place.

We then head up to the Mountain of Beatitudes where Jesus apparently gave the Sermon on the Mount. By the time we got there, we were in for a beautiful sunset over the Sea and the surrounding mountains, which was pretty spectacular (I also decided to get up at 5am the next morning to watch the sunrise over the Sea. Our hotel was right on the shore and so from our room we had a bird’s eye view of the sunrise over the mountains surrounding the Sea.

That evening was spent in Tiberius on the shores of the Sea of Galilee which is an overwhelmingly Jewish city and as it was Sabbath nothing was open till 7pm, but then there were people everywhere. On Sabbath here, unlike Sunday in Australia, everything literally closes down. You are lucky if you are able to find anything open and you will find very few Israelis on the streets. Visiting an overwhelmingly Jewish city is lesson in pure contrasts to the West Bank. In a physical sense, it is like night and day. As I mentioned Jewish cities are highly westernised and I often feel like they quite sterile compared to the hustle and chaos of Palestinians cities.

Reluctantly the next morning we left the Galilee and headed back to Tel Aviv and then to Jerusalem to meet up with our Boston team who, were here to help with olive harvest, to go to Bethlehem to visit the Church of the Nativity (where Jesus was supposedly born) and Aida refugee camp. In 2002, the Church of the Nativity was under siege for about a month when Palestinian militants sought refuge there. For weeks, the Israeli Occupation Forces (IOF)surrounded the Church and fired on one of the holiest sites in Christianity with little regard for life of Clergymen or respect for another people’s religion. In contrast, no a single shot was fired by militants from the church during this time.

After our visit to the Church, we headed for Aida Refugee camp. On the way, we passed Rachel’s Tomb, which Madonna visited in her much touted tour. The Tomb, which has religious importance to all three religions is in Occupied Territory, but has now been annexed behind the Apartheid Wall. The Tomb is now surrounded by concrete and barb wire and no-one except Israelis (and Madonna) can gain access to it, including visiting Christian pilgrims from overseas.

As we got out of the serveeces (taxi) at Aida, we noticed a strange smell in the air. We quickly realised that it was teargas. As we moved up the hill past the International Continental hotel bizarrely built on the doorstep of the camp and which was now abandoned, we saw children running. The boys told us that there were "Jesh" (Army) down the street. As we moved down the street, four or five boys were lined up throwing stones and we could see that other boys were located in another area also doing the same. Amongst the ensuing chaos our contact at the camp, tried to quickly explained the situation and the history of the camp. In the camp there is a mural which was designed by the children and painted with the help of internationals. The mural which runs along a long wall depicts the history of the Palestinian people and their struggle. It includes a depiction of Al Nakba and the dispossession of the Palestinians, as well as the first and second intifada. The mural was very beautiful and quite moving.

We decided to walk pas the army jeep in the hope of internationals would get the army to move on. As we passed the jeep, I was stunned to see that there was quite a ring of stones around it, which meant that it had been there for sometime and that the "shabab" (young boys) had been throwing stones for some time. The standoff between the boys and the army continued for another hour or so, with the army firing intermittently sound bombs and tear gas. Our presence, however, seemed to be completely ignored by the IOF, while the shabab continued to t! hrow stones and as it is IWPS’ not interfere or try to stop any such activity by the Palestinians (while we are a direct, nonviolent organization we have no right to dictate to the Palestinians how to carry out their resistance) we could do little else but record and monitor the situation. The presence of the army for such a long period and in such a standoff served absolutely no military purpose other then as an act by the military to reinforce that they could do this in order to remind the residents of Aida that they were under occupation.

Unfortunately, because the Boston team was also in transit to their next olive picking location, the members of the house team were not able to remain to monitor the situation for longer then an hour. As we left the camp, myself, Stacey and Soha (a regularly vistory to IWPS) had to walk threw the Maschom (checkpoint in Arabic) and once again we were visibly and physically reminded of the occupation and the oppression that ordinary Palestinians must content with every day.

The resistance of the shabab in the camp, however, showed that Palestinians, despite the harassment and intimidation of the soldiers, would never take the occupation lying down and that they would continue resist.

Harassment as Military duty in Israel

I thought I would send you a copy of this article from Ha'aretz on the IOF harassment of Palestinians at checkpoints etc. It gives a very good overview of what happens every day to the Palestinians and the harassment they have to put up with.

The Hawara checkpoint that Hass mentions in her article is very close to where we live and we go there semi-regularly to do checkpoint watch. It is the checkpoint which Palestinians need to pass through to get into Nablus. Internationals are denied passage through this checkpoint as the area has been deemed a closed military zone. The Hawara checkpoint was the first place that I did checkpoint watch at after I arrived in Haris.

Generally we try to facilitate the passage of Palestinians and intervene when they have been made to wait, sometimes for extended lengths of time under the pretext of "processing" and "checking" their "huwiyye" (identity cards). The confiscation of a "huwiyye" is a major crisis for Palestinians because it restricts their limited ability to travel even more and if they travel without them they can be detained and arrested for simply not having them.

In the case of Internationals, while we don't have to have a huwiyyea, all foreigners are suppose to carry their passport with them at all times. If you don't you can risk arrest (one of our team was detained for half a day a few weeks ago because she forgot to take her passport with her to Jerusalem). Like Palestinians to have your ID confiscated, even for a few hours, is a major problem (although of course it is worse for Palestinians).

To try and avoid handing over our passports, we carry photocopies of it, often in plastic sleeves which Palestinians use for their Huwiyye. Recently Kate had some "IWPS Identity cards" done up with our photos, but I have not had to use mine yet, so I am not sure how effective it is yet.

Haikus for Palestine

I thought you might enjoy reading some Haikus (Japanese style poetry of 3 lines and 17 syllables) that one of my IWPS colleagues, Hannah, has written as part of her regular report to family, friends and other Palestinian Human Rights supporters in the USA.

The Haikus are just a snapshot of many of the things we experience here, both good and bad.

Hannah has provided some explanation for them in her introduction, but I will add a little additional explanation about one or two things.

For example, there are two Haikus listed under the title Yom Kippur. Yom Kippur is the Jewish festival of the Day of Atonement. It is the day is considered to be the holiest and most solemn day of the Jewish year, as it is the day of repentance and atonement when Jews repent for the sins of all Jews and try to atone for them .

Hannah and another team member, Kate, are both Jewish and this year for Yom Kippur they distributed/pasted-up a penitance prayer in two of the closeby illegal settlement (see http://www.womenspeacepalestine.org/)

It has been during Yom Kippur, that the Israeli govt and the IDF has launched their operation in Gaza calling it "Days of Penitance". As of today, over 60 people have been killed (one third of them under the age of 15 years) and 300 people wounded.

Hannah's Haikus reflect both the good, humourous, the bad and the ugly, including the brutality of the occupation but also the hope and the resiliance of the people of Palestine.

cheers, Kim

October 1, 2004

Dear friends,I can’t believe it’s October already, the month that I come back to the US. I’ve started to think about my presentation, so you’re welcome to start thinking about where and when you’d like me to present. :) I think I’ve been boring myself with articles, but from boredom springs creativity, right? So for this e-mail, I’ve composed 17 haikus (they’re 17 syllables each, so it seemed an apt number).

I’m afraid they’ll be quite incomprehensible to those of you who are not here with me, but hopefully you’ll understand and/or appreciate some of them. There are a few Arabic words in them. "Alhamdulilah" means "Praise God" and is said all the time here. "Nos nos" literally means "half half" but can be translated as "so-so."

On a more serious note, I’ve included at the end only a few of the names and ages of those killed in Gaza in the past 48 hours. I j!ust heard that Israeli security forces have dubbed the operation "Days of Penitence," as they supposedly try to force militants to repent. I find this gross misuse of the Jewish tradition absolutely disgusting.

Enjoy the haikus, and please don’t ignore the growing list of victims of this war and occupation.

Child in Jayys

She sings for us in English

"We Shall Overcome"

Demo in Budrus

All arrestees get released

Alhamdulilah

Does the donkey have

a name, I ask. "No," she says.

He: "His name is Bush."

Fatima comes in

Sheds her hijab and her coat

Sprawls out on our couch

Settler women

Called by soldiers at checkpoint

Come to harrass us

Bus stopped for hours

Why? I ask the soldier there

"Bureaucratia"

"Hamil." Lovely word.

Pregnant. Used both for women

And the olive trees

Zajid sweeps the floor

Three years old, he’s almost four

Hope in Palestine

Border policeman

"How my English?" he asks me.

"Nos nos," I respond.

Killing in Gaza

The army shoots randomly

Forty, forty-one…

On the birth of our friends’ twins:

W-ard’s two new siblings

Cousin Zajid wants to share

"No, they’re both for me."

Faisa brings home twins

Says to me about the girl

"Heba looks like you"

On Sounds:

Vehicle blares sound

In the village, jeep or truck?

Curfew or veggies?

Gunshots in Hares

A wedding or invasion?

Laughter. A relief.

On Yom Kippur:

Waiting for nightfall

Our landlord searches for stars

Asks, "Does the moon count?"

Houses demolished

Kate:"Did the soldiers repent

Before or after?"

Writing my haikus

Lesson in being concise

Palestine in brief

The following is a list of 18 people killed yesterday in Gaza. Overnight last night and throughout the day today, the toll has risen to 40-something dead and at least 130 wounded:

"The Ministry of health released the following list of residents killed in the military raid conducted on Thursday; the ministry said that the list is not final yet;

1.Tawfiq, Al-Sharafi, 24, Jabalia.

2.Saed Mohammad Abu Al-Eish, 14, Jabalia.

3.Mos'ab al-Barade'ey, 21, Jabalia.

4.Fathi Al-Sawaween, 23, Jabalia.

5.Khalil Abu Naji, 23, Jabalia.

6.Ahmad Madhi. 16 Jabalia.

7.Usama Al-Barsh, 21 Jabalia.

8.Abdul-Hai Al-Najjar, 21, Jabalia

9.Rafat Jadallah, 23, Jabalia.

10.Sofian Abu Al-Jedyan, 40, Jabalia.

11.Mohammad Al-Habal, 60, Beit Lahia.

12.Hamza Ahmad, 24, Jabalia.

13.Mohammad Al-Jabeer, 17, Jabalia.

14.Mohammad Al-Hilo, 60, Jablia.

15.Mohammad Al-Masrey.

16.Rami Thaher. Jablia.

17.Atef al-Ashqar, Jablia.

18.Sofian Abu Al-Jidyan, 33, Jablia."

Report from Palestine on the 4th anniversary of the second Intifada.

Despite the restrictions on movement and the complexity of travel in Palestine, you soon discover how incredibly small both Palestine and Israel are compared to Australia. In the past two and half weeks, I have visited over 20 villages, townships and cities throughout both the Occupied Territories and in Israel proper. One of the most inspiring villages that I have been fortunate enough to visit is the small village of Budrus, which lies west of Ramallah.

On Tuesday (28/9), the 4th anniversary of the second Intifada, myself and the other women from IWPS travelled to Budrus to attend the 45th consecutive action organised by the village in their campaign to stop the construction of the Apartheid Wall and the confiscation of 45% of their farm land.

Since October last year, the village has been organising a popular united grassroots campaign of resistance. In response to their highly organised and successful campaign (they actually succeeded in stopping the wall being built for 3 months from June to September), they have had to endure the constant harassment and state terrorism of the Israeli Occupation Forces (IOF) and the Israeli Border Police (who are usually more brutal in demonstrations then the IOF). In the last 10 months in Budrus, over 100 people have been injured and the village has had to endure numerous closures, as well as tear-gas, sound bombs, live ammunition, arrests and raids.

The previous week in response to the renewed construction of the wall, the village had recommenced demonstrations. The following day, in retaliation for the demonstration, the IOF and Border Police invaded the village putting it under closure and detonated teargas and sound bombs, surrounding the school, trapping the students (aged 6 to 15 years) and teachers inside for several hours before they were released.

The combination of the 4th anniversary and the Jewish High Holidays meant that travelling to Budrus on Tuesday was never going to be smooth sailing. The action was scheduled to take place at the completion of the school day at 1.30pm to ensure that the students were able to get home safely and could not be used as hostages by the IOF/Border Police. We left our house in Haris at around 9.30 am (for a trip that should have taken around 1.5 hours). We soon encountered a "flying checkpoint" approximately 1km down the road. The soldiers had stopped an old man on his way to a medical appointment because he had a photocopy of his documentation rather then the original and detained one of the young men in our car because he did not have the correct ID.

The general response of the IOF to Internationals is either to ignore us, move us to the side or try to get rid of us as soon as possible, however, it was a bit hard to do the first two in this instanced, as they were suddenly confronted by five Internationals. While Kate rang Hamoked (a Palestinian legal aid organisation) for the men, Hannah began to walk around their jeep and conspicuously taking down their jeep call number and the rest of us began to question the soldiers as to why they were making the men wait when they could easily verify their documentation by radio. After about 20 minutes, the soldiers, who up until then had done little to process the men’s documentation began to suddenly processing them, letting them go five minutes later. In addition, to our surprise, they also began to dismantle the checkpoint. We are not sure whether it was because we were there or whether they had received orders to leave. Either way, however, we felt like we had a small victory.

At the entrance of the road to the villages of Qibya and Budrus, we were stopped by the IOF who demanded to know who we were and where we were going, telling us that area was now a "closed military zone" and that we had to leave. Not deterred, we quickly rang one of the Israeli peace activists who informed us there was a second road via the mountains which could get us in. After travelling for another 30 mins we finally reached Budrus at 1pm.

As we entered the village, we saw a Border Police jeep heading towards us. Our driver made a quick turn into a street only to narrowly miss crashing into a second Police jeep. We were once again informed that it was a "closed military zone" and that if we didn’t we would be arrest and deported. Undeterred, we walked back from the village of Qibya to Budrus with about 10 minutes to spare before the rally took place.

Around 50 Internationals and Israeli peace activists had come to support the village. RC and NH were already there told us that the Border Police had been threatening to arrest everyone all morning (the IDF can't arrest Internationals, only the Border Police can). We soon moved down to the empty school yard and it was clear that the rally wouldn’t be able to proceed down to the olive groves as the Border Police and IDF had already sealed off the area. Instead the protest remained on the incline at the top of the school, with the Palestinians leading singing and chanting.

A young group of women around 15 years old sang both political chants about Sharon and Israel, while also engaging in some humourous chants in Hebrew (one humus, one fuul, we don’t need the Border Police – which of course rhymes better in Arabic and Hebrew). These young women had also been at the forefront of the rally that I had attended in Budrus two days earlier. At both actions, the young women had been more organised then the young men in the village, moving confidently to the forefront of the action to directly confront the security forces in non-violent action both times.

After an hour or so, it was decided that we would move off as there was no way we could move down to the olive groves without there being serious injury to people. As everyone moved off, some of the young boys threw stones at the IDF and this was all the excuse the security forces needed. Within seconds, sound bombs and tear-gas was exploding all around us and people began running. As we, the Internationals and Israeli peace activists, ran along the front of the school patio in attempt to get the security forces to stop targeting the children, the Border Police was able to cut across in front of us, stopping and detaining around 20 of us. We were curtly informed that we were now under arrest. Shortly, more Border Police and IOF began to move up into the schoolyard and amongst them was the soldier who had unceremoniously told us to leave the village earlier in the day or face arrest and upon seeing Sarah and myself amongst the crowd, he did not seem impressed at all that we were there.

As second group of detained Internationals and Israelis were brought into the schoolyard, the Border Police began to first grab the Palestinians amongst us in order to separate them from the groups. In response to the Internationals and Israelis trying to prevent the Palestinians being separated from the rest of the group. 7 Border Police moved in quickly and began viciously beating everyone with their batons (which are about 3 feet in length). As people tried to stop the Police and to get out of the way, people also began to run.

In the ensuing chaos, RC and I found ourselves on the edge of the mêlée and had to quickly decide whether or not to make a break for it. As group of us began to run, the soldiers began running after us to try and prevent us from getting down the hill. They grabbed RC before she made it down the hill, but ignored the two or three of us who had already started the decent. I was not able to get too far as the Police had blocked of the junction which lead up to the mainstreet. Not sure what to do, I head back to try and find a gate into one of the yards but was unsuccessful. As I satd own near one of the brickwalls, I watched as the IOF marched a group of about 15 Israelis (as well as 2 Palestinians and 2 Internationals who they mistook for Israelis) down behind the school and down into the olive groves, isolated from the rest of the village.

Despite all the violence of the previous 10 minutes and perhaps because I was still in a little shock, I found that I was more disturbed by this sight then beating that just had taken place. In Israel, the ghost of the holocaust is always present and I could not but help be reminded of similar images I had seen of Jews being arrested and marched off into isolation in WWII.

After the Israeli activists had been arrested, the Border Police released the rest of the Internationals. Unware of this, however, I decided cut through the cacti nearby where one of the villagers quickly took me into her home. After quickly calling and speaking my colleagues at IWPS, it was decided I should stay put for a while as the IOF and Border Police were still harassing and arresting anyone out on the streets, as well as detonating teargas and sound grenades.

After an hour or so, everyone had regrouped at Abu Ahmad house (one of the village leaders) and it was decided that the remaining Israeli activists who had not been arrested would go to Jerusalem to see what had happened to those arrested. It was decided that it was too dangerous for Internationals to go because on a previous occasion an International had been arrested when they had gone to the police station after an action.

While I was unhurt physically (except for a little teargas inhalation), it was the first time since I arrived that I have been actually right in the middle of such a vicious attack by the security forces. The reaction of the security forces, particularly the Border Police, was in the extreme, especially in response to an overwhelmingly non-violent and peaceful action. Despite this, however, I was blown away by the conviction, strength and bravery of the villagers of Budrus, in particular, the young women.

At times in Palestine, I think it could be quite easy, it you allowed yourself too, to lose hope and feel that nothing will ever change. However, in the past three weeks that I have been here, I have been constantly inspired by the dignity, strength and conviction of the people I have met.

On Tuesday, despite my anger at the viciousness of the attacks by the Israeli state forces, I still came away inspired by the people of Budrus, who refuse to lose their human dignity in the face of such overwhelming odds and who bravely refuse to lie down and give into this brutal occupation.