Violence

Translator: Suzanne O.

A visit to Kafr A Dik after the army 'Intifada'

Following this is a report of our visit to the Azzun Atma roadblock.  Unfortunately we didn't get to Haris.  (See request from a man from Haris at the end of the report.)

 We set out at 3:00 p.m., in order to find out what is going on at the Azzun Atma roadblock.  However, beforehand we went to Kafr A Dik because we were told that the army had just left there after demolishing two buildings and a rainwater well.

"We had an army Intifada here", we were told.

We went into the village, there beside the council a resident of the village met us and took us to where the terrorist act took place.

It was a long way along an unpaved lane between hills and rocks, under the tunnel and on the hill, between the beautifully tended olive groves.  Wonderful scenery!

We arrived at the ruins, it turns out that it was not a dwellings but a social meeting place in the heart of the countryside.

"We don't have anywhere to go to have a good time like you do, so we made ourselves a place.  Who does it bother?  I asked a soldier: why do you come over here every day, it just annoys us.  And he answered: That's the idea…"

"Make a film about us so that everyone knows and sees what goes on here".  We tried to explain that there are indeed people who make such films, but there is not much of an audience for them… to our shame.

We took both stills photos and a video.  I have to edit the video and it will take time.

The Report:

At 4:30 p.m. we arrived at Azzun Atma roadblock.  It is nothing like it was two weeks ago.

Reservists are stationed there and they work efficiently.  The queue is short and it moves and progresses satisfactorily.  We spoke to the soldiers.  They told us that in the morning the labourers cross this roadblock from the West Bank to the area of the juncture with Israeli territory, from there they can move into Israel with no problems.

Therefore, in the morning, the inspection is more stringent and it is more crowded.  In contrast, in the evening as they return from the Israeli territory to the West Bank, it is less stringent and therefore the queue moves faster.

However, when we started to leave Palestinians told us "Come every day, the queue moves more quickly when you are here…"

This completed our shift.  Although we wanted to go to Haris, where buildings were demolished today, dusk directed us homewards.

It is very desirable for members to go to Haris and contact the resident at the number we published.

Sansana-Meitar

Checkpoint is clear. A long line of trucks waits at the check-out and seems to move quickly.

Route 60

Lively but there sure are some lousy drivers around here, Israelis and Palestinians alike.
 

Bani Naim: We came here first: a large village close to Hebron where settlers had defaced a mosque.  We found the mosque alright but at first couldn't locate the damage until the Imam appeared (the grapevine really works out there!) and showed us a side wall where the scarlet letters were already obliterated by -- more red paint. (see photos).  The imam and his people thought the perpetrators came from Yitzhar but its more likely that this was a local job. It should be said that the Imam and his companions received us most graciously, explalined patiently to the three (!) translators - among whom Netanya shone out with her Arabic  - and they even embarassingly thanked us for coming.  Netanya expressed our regrets for the vandalism.

Um Farqa is our next stop: a tiny, desolate hamlet between Tuwani and the Maon settlement where the Civil Administration had destroyed the mosque, several residential buildings and a room that had been added on to a cave dwelling, as well as all the electricity poles between the village and Tuwani. Iin the process  destroying the peace of this impoverished place.  The Sheik kindly gave us a tour of the devastation (see pics of mosque rubble). At one point a figure was seen striding across the hills from Tuwani. The locals froze on the spot and only relaxed when it transpired that this was an "Arab".  The fear of the Lords of the Land lies heavy in these parts, and with good reason.
Two girls from the village were arrested during the demolition, however they were released and the trial of the older one, Souan, took place on 19.12.11 - please see Ehud Krinis' report circulated on the reshet.

Next stop on this other planet was Givat HaAntenna - Antenna Hill, another desolate spot not far from Hebron. A smooth road leads up to the hilltop, not paved but clearly rolled out with heavy equipment. This was the site of the murder of two guards (guarding the antenna) and has been turned into a memorial for them. (see photos with their names),  The hilltop boasts a (tattered) Israeli flag and a little gazebo which announces itself as a place of prayer. In the middle of the gazebo is something that looks suspiciously like a sacrificial altar, but it may be a bima for a Torah scroll, to be fair.  A small plot of ploughed earth lies close by: watch this spot for a new outpost may sprout up here one of these days.  This is how these things begin...And judging by the amount of garbage lying around the place is well used.

Finally, for how could we not get our weekly fix of ghtost town, a quick spin around Hebron. Two Border policepeople (a man and a woman) munching snadwiches and drinking coke at the entrance/exit to the Worshippers Alley,  On Shuhada street several men in shorts are jogging incongruously, while a platoon (?) of paratroopers patrols the street with drawn weapons, showing the natives who is in charge. At the Cordoba school steps which are now marked as a national monument, a group of elderly Jews is strugglling upwards, some of them give up and come down again while an energetic guide jolly's them on.  Clearly, the intention is to drive the  Cordoba people out of their minds by making a nature reserve out of their neighbourhood, and no doubt eventually they will give in and go away, or perhaps not. Maybe the steps will prove too much for the elderly tourists and the Ministry of Education will have to make it a compulsory route for School certificate completion.

Thursday, 22.12.11

Netanya and I joined a Shovrim Shtika/Breaking the Silence tour of Hebron (that's reall addiction!) - fascinating since we went in under police protection, were only harassed (by the police) three times for our ID's and once by a paratrooper, who agreed to compromise and see the identification only of the guide. We  peeped into the Casbah - desolate and deserted, climbed up to Jewish Tel-Romeida where our 'protectors' abandoned us by the so-called 'Cage House' and we took the roundabout route that Palestinians are forced to use to reach their homes nearby.  Very picturesque and rather beautiful with really ancient olive trees but heaven help anyone taken ill, in labour, carrying heavy bags or coming home at night - no vehicle access is possible and the ground is thick with tree roots, stones and the inevitable garbage all waiting to trip you up.  It was salutory to be reminded of the historic development of the Jewish settlement in Hebron and hear again the details of government and army policy of closure-checkpoint-curfew that has made the city of Abraham a ghost town.  The tour lasted three and a half hours and is highly recommended to anyone interested in knowing the minutae of how the occupation works and of which Hebron is merely the outstanding example.  We also met Anat Cohen but she was berating a paratrooper (they seem to be the people on the ground currently) and we were able to evade direct contact.
 

We left Beersheva at 7:30.

Sansana-Meitar

already clear of workers, but women and family members of prisoners were still trickling through to the waiting buses.

Route 60

was pretty clear and we didn't see a single soldier.

Hebron

After the usual tour of silent H2 - the old city of Hebron, we stopped at Abed's store opposite Gutnick's tourist center, because we saw a large group of girls waiting on the "Arab" side to enter the Ibrahimi mosque. However within minutes they streamed up the lane to the mosque, full of beans and chatter. We were still standing, nursing cups of hot sage tea when a pair of TIPH observers came up and got chatting to us. In answer to our questiion they said that H2 is very quiet these days, but if there are incidents they are not usually in the morning but in the afternoon or evening and at night,  with shabbat being a particular time of tension. They gave us a pamphlet explaining who they were and what they do. Their website is at www.tiph.org This was the first time almost that we found TIPH observers to be friendly. One of them was Swiss, a lawyer by profession and the other was a Danish citizen. originally from Jerusalem whose family fled in 1967. 

Afterwards Netanya and I walked up the Worshippers Alley. Along the way we encountered a settler in his car who stared at us but didn't bother us.  When we got to the top of the alleyway, Ofer  the photographer was waiting for us with his video and some curses that were so unoriginal and childishly vulgar that I myself could have done better (but decided silence was wiser!)  Our settler from the alley was standing by grinning like an idiot, probably pleased that he had alerted Ofer to our dangerous presence.  Don't these people do any work?!!  Mohammed arrived and whisked us off. Unpleasant, but at least they didn't run us over ...this time.

Tyasir CP

Translation: Dvora k.

A new game for the soldiers at the Tyasir CP: Puncturing the tires of Palestinian vehicless --- Report on the basis of oral communication.

Monday, 7/11/2011 – 16:00

I received a phone report that there are long delays at the Tyasir CP. (This has come up again and again during the last two weeks.) In addition there were reports that soldiers raised the spikes on the road when a minibus full of workers returning from work in the settlements was passin over them. All four tires of the minibus were slices.

Tuesday, 8.11. 2011–11–20

This evening again we received a telephone report from a Palestinian farmer: A truck was delivering fodder for his animals, going through Tyasir to the Jordan Valley. At the Tyasir CP the soldiers again raised the spikes as the truck was passing and the tires were cut. In addition to the incident from yesterday, reported above, the man told us that four days ago the soldiers cut the tires of a private car in the same way. I called the DCO and a police car was sent to the CP.

In both the above incidents, the soldiers laughed heartily when they saw the damaged vehicle, and it probably made them laugh to see the poor driver, who has difficulty earning his livelihood anyway. And now he has to take care of damage that will cost him hundreds if not thousands of shekels.

A complaint will be filed with the Association for Civil Rights.

Every day last week, the soldiers continued to raise the spikes in order to tear tires of cars that went through the CP. Every time they did this, they burst out laughing to celebrate the victory. They succeeded in hurting the people who work very hard and do not have the means to cope with the soldiers' armed power, with the power of the on-going oppression; people who own cars and earn their living with difficulty by driving workers, by bringing fodder for sheep. Great heroes! Each of them is a real man!!

All together this week: six cars with flat tires and one taxi whose roof broke because the soldiers brought the bar of the CP down on it!

Translator:  Charles K.

Summary

Violence, as well as sexual harassment, at the Hamra checkpoint, long lines at the Tapuach checkpoint, the Gochia checkpoint isn’t open.

11:50 – Za’tara checkpoint (Tapuach junction) – Border Police soldiers stop cars in both directions, don’t request documents, don’t inspect anything, only ask, “Everything OK?”, as if to check people’s accents.  But at this hour, when there’s a great deal of traffic, that’s sufficient to create traffic jams everywhere, particularly in the direction of Ramallah.  Dozens of cars crowd into the plaza and far beyond, the traffic jam stretching farther than we can see.  The soldiers try to get rid of us; we stand quietly on the sidewalk but refuse to leave.  When we finally want to go, two military jeeps block our car from behind.  I maneuver around them.  One soldier stands in front of the car, blocking our way.  I ask the commander whether we’re being detained; he says no and tells the soldier to move aside.  We left.

Ma’aleh Efrayim checkpoint – 12:30

The checkpoint isn’t manned.

Hamra checkpoint – 12:45

Three soldiers swoop down on us as soon as we arrive, demanding we leave “their” checkpoint and stand at the junction, about 100 meters away.  Before we reach our usual observation point we stop by the water wagon, about 20 meters from the checkpoint.  The sergeant, very sure of himself and aggressive, yells to his soldiers to shut the checkpoint down.  When we tell him that’s illegal, he yells at us, “I’m the law!!  I do what the fuck I want,” and continues to repeat, “I’m the man – you better believe it!!”

All the checkpoint’s soldiers – about 10 – come over and surround us threateningly.  The sergeant grabs my notebook and refuses to return it.  He and his soldiers begin flipping through it and reading what’s written.  I was very worried, because it contains telephone numbers and ID numbers of Palestinians, but Yif’at went into the midst of the bunch of soldiers and grabbed the notebook back.  Both sides pulled until it was freed, but a Border Police soldier grabbed my camera and while holding it above his head pressed up against me.  I asked him not to touch me but he continued, chest to chest, stomach to stomach, very unpleasantly.  That allowed Yif’at to come up behind him and grab the camera from his hand.  The soldier laughed and kept pressing up against me until, finally, a few minutes later, he pushed me away.

The entire incident lasted not more than ten minutes.  I telephoned Zaharin, the DCO officer, while it was going on, and asked him to call the police immediately.  The checkpoint was closed during the incident; because it was rush hour the lines lengthened in all directions – to the east, toward the Jiflik, to the northeast, toward the settlements of Beqa’ot and Ro’i, and west toward Nablus.  Many laborers stood waiting on line along the road to cross to the West Bank.

An army jeep arrived with a lieutenant; I later learned he was the company commander whom Zaharan had called.  The officer, as usual, immediately backed up his soldiers and ordered us to leave:  “I have orders to close the checkpoint if you stay here.”  We moved to the junction so that the checkpoint would open for people to go through.  Before the checkpoint opened, one of the soldiers went over and said (in Arabic) to the waiting Palestinian laborers to tell us to leave.  The Palestinians mumbled something (“You see?  Look, they also want you to get out of here”).  When the soldiers moved away one of the Palestinians approached and said they had no choice.  But they’re very glad we’re here; we should come early in the morning.

The Palestinians crossing from Nablus later said to us that the soldiers at the checkpoint said they should tell us to leave.  They asked who we were, and when we explained they said “Kul al ahtiram [Good for you],” and thanked us for coming. 

The soldiers opened the checkpoint and then the police arrived.

The company commander went over to the policeman and told him we went into the soldiers’ booth and took photos of weapons and ammunition (a blatant lie!!).  I asked the policeman (Shlomo Na’amani) to look at the photos on the camera, but he refused.  I asked to file a complaint; at first the policeman, who was very hostile to me, told us to complain at the Ma’ale Efrayim police station.  We told him that we’d complained there in the past, but that we wanted to identify the attackers to him (he refused to get their names).  He sent me over to the patrol car where I submitted a complaint to another policeman, Nabil Tuba, who was businesslike and not hostile, although he too refused at first to write that the soldiers were violent or harassed me sexually, and said, “What’s the big deal – what did he do?  That’s not violence…”  Only after I insisted did he write what I told him.  He also agreed to look at all the photos on my camera and saw for himself there were none of weapons and ammunition, nor of the booth, and not even of the soldiers I tried to photograph (because they were standing too close, pushed me and nothing was in focus).

By the way, from what we could see before they closed the checkpoint, the crossing went quickly and we didn’t see any other delays.

13:50 – Tayasir checkpoint

3-4 cars from each direction which were let through as soon as we arrived.  We stood at a distance, but from talking to people waiting learned that recently there have been delays here of an hour and a half.  Today also – crossing proceeds slowly, and documents of those coming west from the Jordan Valley to Area A are also inspected.

15:00 – Gochia checkpoint

It hadn’t opened as of 15:15, nor had any Palestinians arrived.

17:30 – Ma’aleh Efrayim

Unmanned.

Translator:  Charles K.

A difficult Friday, with long lines, elderly men and women and sick people crowded between the bars.  The “humanitarian lane” is closed.

Why isn’t the humanitarian lane open on Fridays?
8:40  Unlike ordinary Fridays, today we found three long lines of people who had been waiting under the canopy for a long time – an hour and a half, we were told (even before they reach the revolving gates).  Three lanes are open.
An old man is jammed into the line between the bars, bent over, leaning on his cane, weak, sick.  He turns to us angrily, insulted.  He’s crying.  He gets stuck inside the revolving gate when the next clump of people tries to go through.  Hangs on the bars.  A heartbreaking sight.
Old and ill people continued to arrive the entire time we were there; they were forced to wait on line for a long time.  Others waiting allow them to move to the head of the line; the coffee-seller offers them his chair.  Some bring folding chairs with them – they’ve been here before.

The line lengthens.  The area beyond the revolving gates is also very crowded.  People run from one line to another, hoping to find the “right” one.  Bitterness, curses, anger.

An elderly man arrives with his sick wife.  He seats her on a bench while he stands at the head of the line.  She looks very bad.
 
We telephone the humanitarian office, ask them to open the humanitarian lane.  They promise to find out whether it’s possible (?).  After additional calls to the DCO we see beyond the bars, in the area beyond the fences, an officer and a soldier.  They wander around, and eventually reach the fence.  They allow a few of the elderly and the ill to come through.  Ten minutes later the magic door is locked again.  “They should get on line, we can’t stand here taking care of people.  Only those who are ill.”  But how is it possible to take care “only” of the sick if there’s no one at the humanitarian gate to deal with them?  The officer from the humanitarian office has disappeared; we shout, call him to return because those who need him haven’t gone away.  And you won’t believe this – the female soldier emerges from the cage and promises to find out whether he’s able to come back.

10:00  An adult man and his old father on their way to the hospital.  The father isn’t able to stand, and sits on the ground.  The son hopes the humanitarian gate will open; more calls to the DCO, the son is helpless (in the face of the fences), thinks it would be better to get on the regular line.  The old man gets up with great difficulty, moves toward the line, but the congestion makes them return to wait for someone from the DCO, hoping our calls helped.  The old man sinks down again on the concrete floor.  The DCO people suddenly appear.

10:10  The officer explains that many more people than usual arrived today; he agrees to allow (only) women to go through his gate.  While this shortens their wait on line, they get stuck beyond the revolving gates where the lines are long and the congestion is great.

An angry adult man says to us:  Next year I retire.  I’ll go to Australia, get a car, drive for hours on end without anyone stopping me and asking for my ID card.  Life here is humiliating and difficult, and it’s no wonder there’s a lot of anger and hatred, and that people want to kill all Jews everywhere.

Translator:  Charles K.

A quote: 14.8.2007  Seam Zone Plan – Goals:

“The goal of the ‘seam zone’ plan is to limit the ability of assailants, whose numbers have risen since September, 2000, with the increase in suicide bombings, to infiltrate into Israel from the Palestinian Authority.  These assailants are part of the larger group of persons illegally present in Israel (“shabakhim”), comprising tens of thousands of Palestinians who illegally enter Israel every day from the territory of the Palestinian Authority in order to work.” (from the Ministry of Defense – Israel Defense Forces web site).

And I’ve been naïve enough to believe that the seam zone (“compound” would be a better term) was instituted in order to establish settlements, like Shaqed, Heiynanit, Reihan, etc, by dispossessing the original Palestinian residents of their lands and their rights, because, after all, you can defend the country from the ’67 borders.  But I guess I don’t understand security matters.

Dahar el Malak is located in the seam zone/compound, a small village whose residents are members of the Khatib family.  Many of their activities are focused on East Tura, where they go to school, shop, order repairs, where their relatives live, where the main mosque and cemetery is located.  The olive groves belonging to Tura’s residents are located on the seam zone side.  The IDF, for security reasons (what else?), decided to move the security fence between Dahar el Malak and Tura and establish a military checkpoint, which has been the source of considerable friction over the years.  To increase security they added the settlements of Tal Menashe, Heinanit and Shaqed.

A shooting incident, this report based on what we were told

An elderly member of the Khatib family died Friday evening in Dahar el Malak.  Family members have arranged with the DCO the passage of the funeral procession through the Tura checkpoint for the following day, Saturday, between 9 AM and 10 AM.

A procession of some 300 mourners, from the seam zone, the West Bank, and from Israel arrived at the checkpoint before 10 AM on Saturday with the body of the deceased.  The coordinating officer wasn’t present; the soldiers wanted each of the mourners to undergo a security check.  They objected, believing that the delay was an insult to the deceased.  The soldiers and mourners began arguing, and the soldiers finally closed the checkpoint.  The mourners forced their way through, soldiers firing at them or over their heads.  Four people were wounded, including two relatives who were pallbearers, and two others, residents of Ein Sahala (Israeli Arabs).

Now the village is tense.  The residents feel humiliated.  Feelings are high; the army apparently apologized, but nothing more.

--------------------------------------------------------

05:50-06:50  A’anin agricultural checkpoint

The checkpoint opens at 05:30.  Inspections are carried out at the far gate; people are registered by hand.  The DCO car is on site at least part of the time during the inspections.  The resident approaches the soldiers, hands over his documents and moves one step back.  This distance is maintained throughout the inspection.  The first soldier gives the documents to a second, who inspects them, makes a mark on a sheet, returns them to the first soldier who returns them to the resident.  People are holding ordinary plastic bags, whose contents are occasionally inspected at a glance.  It’s important to note – people are wearing work clothes (on their way to pick olives), as opposed to previous times when what people were wearing resulted in annoying questions.

The DCO vehicle leaves; he stops near us on his way.  W., the officer, tells us that more than 100 people received agricultural permits.  I remember years when hundreds of permits were issued.  Have those times passed?  The olive harvest is over officially at the end of the month but it may be extended if necessary.

The farmers say that the arrangements are reasonable.  They say that things were better last year, and that the cows have caused considerable damage.  They’re frustrated at their inability to deal with the damage.  They say that no cows have come through in recent weeks, but that they caused substantial damage in the past.

Now women come through, arriving later with older children after sending the younger ones off to school.

07:00  New Reihan-Barta’a checkpoint

We meet B., who works in one of the Shahak enterprises.  He’s sitting with his friends on the sidewalk, waiting for their ride to the workplace.  He tells us about Saturday’s funeral from Dahar al Malak to Tura, on which the soldiers fired (as described above).  I go down the road toward the Palestinian parking lot.  The guard in the booth and the armed security person stop me.  I complain that the Arab driver isn’t allowed to accompany me down to the parking lot.  They confirm, “Those are the rules.”  I correct them: “Procedures,” but they don’t understand the difference, and what’s wrong with their approach.  I give up trying to explain and continue on down.  Seven trucks on the road and five more in the parking lot.

Almost no taxis/drivers.  Few people crossing toward Barta’a.  The Shahak workers have already crossed, and are now waiting for their transportation to the workplaces.  The seamstresses have also crossed.  The few people still arriving cross quickly, pass through the terminal in a wink and enter the fenced corridor without delay.

The procedure is routine, normal.  Most people are crossing to the seam zone, a few to the West Bank.

07:10  Shaqed-Tura checkpoint

The checkpoint opens at 6:00.  Only a few people were crossing when we arrived.  The pupils in school on the West Bank received two days off to help with the olive harvest.  The teachers from Tura employed in Umm Reihan are working as usual.  Crossing is routine – inspection in the building, cars checked as usual.  Women with small children cross to the West Bank, the children accompanying their mothers into the inspection building.  To the greater glory of the State of Israel!

During the afternoon hours a group of Mistaarvim who had their faces covered, protected by the Yasam, broke the office door of attorney Kaadan at Dahiat El Barid.

Within seconds Attorney Kaadan found himself on the floor with two rifles' barrels pointing at his head. His breath and complexion were back to normal only several hours after the attack.

The invaders dismantled the alarm system, sprayed black paint on the security cameras, inspected the files and cabinets and left the place after three hours and ten minutes.

The loot they took with them:
1. Two detainees (a person who works at the office and a client).
2. The office computers
3. The memory from the cameras and the alarm system.

Translator:  Charles K.

Part 1:  The entrance to Burin

As you know, the villageof Burin is exposed to harassment by settlers who invade its fields from all directions.  The cursed Har Bracha threatens from the east, Yitzhar’s thugs scheme from the west, while the youths of Gil’ad Farm are happy to join the festive burning of the olive trees.  The presence of Israelis during harvesting provides an insurance policy (only a very partial one, but if necessary they’ll at least be witnesses more easily able to come testify) against the attacks.  That’s why we agreed to Munir’s request, posted on the web, to help a resident of Huwwara whose groves are in Burin harvest his olives.

Rachel Afek, my spouse, Gid’on and I went in the morning to the villageof Burin, but were stopped by a roadblock at the entrance.  A second lieutenant from the paratroopers and three other soldiers ordered all the drivers to show documents, and us also.  But we were informed that Israelis weren’t allowed to enter the village.  “But,” we wondered, “the village is in Area B, and as members of Machsom Watch we come through here every week, and there’s absolutely no reason to prevent us from helping the Palestinians harvest olives.” but they don’t budge: “Orders from headquarters.”  We stood our ground and informed them that we know they have no right to stop us, unless they can show us an order from the GOC.  They didn’t have a GOC order.  Their phone call to headquarters brought a “final” answer from Dana – there’s no GOC order, but there’s an order from headquarters to prohibit entry to Israelis.  We didn’t back down and asked to speak with Dana.  Rachel called and again said we’re members of Machsom Watch, we come here every week, we came to help a Palestinian family harvest olives, and there’s absolutely no reason for us to give in.  Dana had no choice but to go ask someone…and returned with the answer that there’s no problem, and we can enter.  And so, after a delay of almost an hour, we finally entered the village - late, but at least feeling we hadn’t surrendered to the arbitrary imposition of prohibitions and unauthorized separations, and in pain at an additional distorting side effect of the occupation.

Part two:  Harvesting olives in Har Bracha’s accursed shadow

 Munir met us not far from the village entrance, along with the owners of the grove, members of the Ouda family:  Haj Bajis Salim Ouda, who looks 15 years younger than his age, 70; and two of his seven sons and five daughters – Mahmoud and ‘Abed.  “You won’t be able to get there by car,” they told us, so we left the car and got into the son’s rattling van.  The vehicle went up the hill on a narrow path between the boulders until it got stuck on one.  Gid’on, Munir and his brother were finally able to free it, though some parts were left dangling loosely.  We then went up another 300 meters, and the first thing we saw was a few dozen olive trees that had been burned completely, and beyond them more half-burned trees.  So, not more than 10-11 trees remained bearing fruit that could be harvested.  The Ouda family has another large grove, but the plot here on the hillside isn’t very big, some 40-50 trees, only a quarter of which weren’t burned.  Below the settlement of Har Bracha, right next to the outpost of Giv’at Ronen (an expansion of Har Bracha), we could see dry olive trees standing shamefully, whose owners don’t dare cultivate them.  That grove has already become occupied territory belonging to the illegal outpost.

The Ouda family’s grove is located on the side of the hill, about 100 meters below the Giv’at Ronen outpost.  On our way there, and in the grove, we walked through thorns, thistles and briars that came up to our knees.  You have to plow twice after the first rain, and at the end of the rainy season, to uproot them, but the army doesn’t allow it.  About four months ago the settler neighbors burned the trees.  A tractor that went to plow was also torched.  One of the settlers was sitting on a rock firing at it, enjoying himself.  Fortunately no one was hurt – it all happened on a day that had been coordinated with the army.  In other words – they can work their land with the army protecting them from hoodlums two days a year.  But even on these two days there’s really no protection.  They’re given an additional day each year to plow, but at a time when plowing is no longer possible.  Even on those few days each year where they coordinate and are promised protection – the hoodlums are those who control the area.  Today also – which had been coordinated in advance – no protection could be seen.  We were lucky that the pyromaniacs didn’t show up either.

The family members spread out their canvas cloths on the thistles and the three of us picked while the sons climbed the tree, picking from the upper branches.  The 70-year-old-father climbs to the treetop to saw off the tops of the trees that have been harvested.  At the same time, Munir cut back sharply the partly-burned branches, hoping they will bear fruit again in 4-5 years, if no one burns them again.  Thanks to the settlers we finished harvesting the remaining trees in a few hours and then had time to look at the lovely landscape of hills around us, on the Huwwara valley, the villages on the outskirts of Nablus, the checkpoint, the DCO and Awarta below us, and at the apartheid road on part of which Palestinians are now able to drive.  Then we went down to the family’s large grove located among the buildings of the village.

That grove looked very different.  The trees’ boughs and foliage spread wide and green, the ground beneath cleared and free of rocks.  The hoodlums don’t dare come here, our host said.  We met a number of the father’s daughters-in-law, and many children who clung to their grandfather.  They spread a cloth beneath one of the trees and piled delicacies of all kinds on it, crisp pitas, hummus, home-made goat cottage cheese, tuna, pickles and more.  Unfortunately, the women and children had already finished eating, and didn’t accede to our urging that they join us.  Only those who worked in the upper grove remained to eat.  After eating we said goodbye to the family and drove off.

This harvest day ended well, but the picture is unequivocal.  The army, which is supposed to be sovereign in the area, leaves the settler thugs in control.  Isn’t it the case that two days of coordination a year, during which there’s no protection either, and preventing plowing the land, constitutes cooperation with the settlers’ expropriations?

6.45-10.00

Translator:  Charles K. 

Meitar: 

Laborers waiting for their employers fill the parking lot on the Israeli side.  The Palestinian side is empty.

Route 60

We observe piles of earth forming new roadblocks on side roads in the southern area near Abda and Dahariyya.

Israeli flags decorate the electric poles.  Another way to mark the festiveness of the statehood application to the UN??

Hebron

The city welcomes us with an Israeli flag stretched across Beit HaMeriva.

The city is quiet, maybe somewhat more Border Police soldiers than usual near the Worshippers’ route and the Tzion route, inobtrusive in the buildings’ shadows.  A few more paratroopers spread along Shuhada street.

CPT volunteers at the Pharmacy checkpoint tell us the holiday passed relatively quietly.

Pakistani or Indian pilgrims descend quietly from the Cave of the Patriarchs straight to the buses, the souvenir merchants watching them disappointedly because the pilgrims’ route passes near their shops, but not near enough.

Highway 60 south

Hagit read online about violence by residents of Eshtamo’a (known, erroneously, as “price tag”).  We decided to see for ourselves.

Farhan, from the village of Simiya (near Samu’a) takes us in his valiant Subaru on a dirt road to the village of Shweika.  On the way he tells us that he heard on the news about more activity by the Eshtamo’a settlers – confiscation of a flock of sheep belonging to a local Arab.  The two younger sons of the victimized landowner join us when we reach Shweika.  We descend into the wadi below Shweika and see the horrible sight:  two terraces of olive trees completely destroyed!  The settlers broke all the green branches of the olive trees and destroyed the entire grove.  On a nearby rock they wrote, in red – the price tag’s blood.

The locals say the tracks indicate that 4-5 rowdies must have spent about two hours carrying out the destruction, watched the whole time by IDF soldiers in their post below the Eshtamo’a outpost.

We see from the destroyed grove Eshtamo’a’s prefabs on the ridge, and the military post is clearly visible below them.  It should be noted that the army didn’t intervene at all on the villagers’ behalf.  The scene is terrible and very sad; we have no words to console the villagers.  Instead, they comfort us, tell us that the army returned the sheep that were taken, this time acting rapidly and effectively.

On our way back to Highway 60 we see the destroyed grove from above – a metaphor for what peace is like here.