Anabta, A-Ras, Jubara, Sunday, 22.10.06 PM Observers: Aliya S., Susan L. (reporting) Summary In this country we still wait for some kind of leadership which daresto think and act on the words of the late Harold Washington when hebecame the first black Mayor of Chicago: “Business as usual will not be accepted.” Until then, the lack of compelling alternatives in thispart of the world means it remains “business as usual:” nothingabnormal, atypical, irregular, uncommon, or unusual for aMachsomWatch shift in the Occupied West Bank. 15:10 AnabtaAt the entrance to the checkpoint, the back-to-back business is infull swing: goods being moved from one truck, Israeli, to another,Palestinian. We’re stopped by a doctor and his family, who can’t get through the checkpoint with their car to get to his mother in Tulkarm – tocelebrate the “eid” together. Inside the yellow plated Israeli car, ababy asleep and a little girl. A Jerusalem family, she with blue ID, his a green: no amount of calls to anybody will change the “orders”emanating from above. Nobody in such a car can enter Tulkarm. Imaginethat happening to Israeli Jews on a “hag!” Not surprisingly, the family won’t conceive of leaving their car at this god forsaken placeovernight. They’re sure it won’t be there in the morning. Note: muchlater, when we’re at Ar-Ras, we get a return call from theHumanitarian Center of the army. They’ve been “helpful” – but ineffective and full of misinformation: the family, they (and we) aretold, has passed the Anabta checkpoint and are on their way toTulkarm. Our phone call to Sarab, who’s driving, tells a differentstory. They’re on their way back to Jerusalem. Eid said, hag sameah, indeed! 15:30 — a Hummer comes to check the many parts and pieces ofcomputer hardware inside a minibus at the vehicle parking area. Agroup of four soldiers at the checkpoint itself, the commander asergeant, the soldiers the types who do little and love to speak onbehalf of their commander. They have orders, there is closure. Thereis also little traffic in or out of Tulkarm. 16:15 Ar-RasAlready from the apartheid road, we can see the long line of cars on the shiny black asphalt, newly laid, in the distance. At Gate 753, we’re asked for our IDs by the two soldiers there. At Ar-Ras, one soldier in the crow’s nest, one underneath the tin metalroof of the checkpost in the center of the roadway, and two soldiers in the vicinity of the long line of cars, winding all the way downthe hillside. Again, the commander, T., is a sergeant, but his men donothing. He checks everybody, the soldier behind him,supposedly “securing” him, stands limply, hands and gun at his side. The commander spends most of his breath telling vehicles andpedestrians, of whom there are also many, to “move back, move back”(in Hebrew) to where is not clear. To where he’s satisfied: and thelines grows, from fourteen on arrival to well over 20 in the next half hour. A UN ambulance waits. And the breaking of the Ramadanfast is almost over. “You understand Hebrew?” he calls over to thefluent Hebrew speakers (those who live on the seamline). They answerhim back. The patience of the Palestinians now wears thin. One shiny silvercar, whose driver is furious at the time it’s taking for him to bechecked, attempts to move up to a more favorable place in the front, waiting to be checked. This is too much for people waiting for a longtime, over half an hour just on this hillside. From our vantagepoint, we see people are about to come to blows, one man with astick, and there are shouts, but this time not from the Israeli side. The sergeant is clearly at a loss, on his phone, calling for help.But just as quickly as this scene erupts, just as quickly is it putout, by the Palestinians themselves. One man puts his arm on theshoulder of the man with a stick, and talks to him, what is not clear, but it’s clear that it’s in quiet tones. Everything dies down. 16:40 — suddenly a jeep with a captain and three other soldiersappears. Is he going to take charge? To clear the chaos? No way, hetoo shouts, makes little dent on the order that is needed right now at this spot. Instead, there are now more soldiers surveying whatthey have wrought, 25 vehicles waiting, a large bus which we’ve beeneyeing, has taken over thirty minutes to get to the top of the hill,and the checking goes on, slowly, slowly, with no two lines made, as would be sensible, with nobody checking just pedestrians, etc. The captain finds time for long phone calls, maybe for more help inthis sad romp of a farce. Pedestrians waiting patiently, but speakingloud Hebrew, appeal to the “big commander” (mefaked hagadol) instead of the “little commander” (mefaked hakatan) to no avail. 16:50 — upon the arrival of the captain and his jeepful of soldiers,he informed us, in no uncertain terms, that the problems here were alack of manpower (not true). Now a Hummer arrives, and it begins tobe impossible to count the amount of manpower that the IDF hasspilled out on this desolate hillside (16 soldiers, four on hand,four from the jeep, four from the Hummer). There’s confusion a plenty, but five minutes later, not a soul at the checkpoint, excepta newly arrived army van (not a jeep, not a Hummer) with a new shiftof soldiers! 16:55 — not one car, not one pedestrian. But from Ar-Ras, we already see what’s going on at the seamline gate: 17:00 Gate 753The sun has set, beautifully, as it does at this time of year, evenin this awfully cruel occupation scene, but the sad saga continues. Sure enough, it’s a repeat of A-Ras, and vehicles, most of which had already been there and checked, are now held up at Gate 753. And,sure enough, the two soldiers there have been reinforced by a Hummerwith another four soldiers. 17:15 JubaraAs we pass the village gate, a soldier approaches, his “securing” soldier pointing his gun directly at the car, at us. We object. Andare told, “he’s only doing his duty!” The commander, again, asergeant, asks if this is the car in which we “entered,” and whether we had done so with the flag! Then, to top it all, he asks if we havewritten permission! End of shift.