HUWWARA, Thursday April 8 2004 PM Observers: Shelly N., Nili P., Ofra T., Dalia G. (reporting) colour =red>Two groups set out in a Palestinian taxi, with our usual driver (who’s already become one of us – translating, advising and helping in general). One group got out at Huwwara and the other at Beit Iba. At the end of the shift, we regrouped and swapped stories. Our general impression was that today there was a marked difference in the soldiers’ behaviour at both checkpoints. Beit Iba checkpoint was operating as a checkpoint – i.e., a point where checks were performed. Its commander did his best to let people go through without unnecessary delays. Apparently it’s possible for soldiers to act like human beings even in these difficult, complex situations. It’s a pity that that sort of behaviour is so rare.Huwwara checkpoint, however, functioned as a point where soldiers checked in a different sense of the word “check” i.e. hamper, impede, obstruct, hinder, block. Some of them were hostile and set the prevailing tone and atmosphere. I’m still chilled by it, even now, two days after our shift.Conclusions:1. There doesn’t seem to be any point in seeking help from the army spokesperson’s office. The staff answer politely and willingly, but that’s it.2. Getting in touch with the District Co-ordinating Office (DCO) does help, though it depends on which officer is sent to the spot: the amount of help he offers depends on his personality.3. Another conclusion (my own personal one): in spite of the inhuman situation in which the army places its soldiers and commanders, and although I understand their impossible situation, apparently ways can be found to treat people like human beings. So , unlike some of my friends, I have no sympathy for the soldiers, but do expect them to behave humanely in every situation.We reached Huwwara at 14:00. I crossed over to the northern side of the checkpoint, the exit from Nablus. As I drew closer, I saw a huge mass of people. Not a line. A congested mass, close to bursting-point, pushed by two soldiers who shoved, shouted and struck the metal roof of the checkpoint to get people to form an orderly line. In the circumstances, it was impossible. They didn’t even try to reduce the pressure by getting people through. And while the two soldiers did “their best” (by pushing and bellowing) the soldier who was ‘covering’ them by pointing his rifle at the crowd – looked on and laughed.I was worried (or perhaps hopeful) that the mass of people would erupt, but before this happened, I phoned the DCO to ask for help and to warn of an impending disaster. The DCO commander, who knows me, promised to send an officer to help the soldiers.Twenty minutes later, an officer arrived …(not all officers are like O. , who managed to get people across using his discretion – like magic, the mass dwindled into a normal column of people).Alongside the ‘line’ for checks, in a sort of pit about a metre below ground-level, some 30 detainees were being held. They’d been waiting for hours, they told us. Unfortunately, it’s a sight we’ve become used to, but a little to the north we saw a new phenomenon – about 15 detainees sitting with babies and young children. It was the first time I’d seen women detainees with children. Why? As with all our questions, no answer was forthcoming to this question, either.We requested that a women-only line be formed, so that the babies go through quickly. The reply – “We have no additional line ! “(or, there’s no structure in place to open another line). That’s soldiers’ logic – if there’s no concrete structure for a line, let them wait, crammed together, in the sun.The detainees moved closer to the checkpoint. The checkpoint commander pushed them down again and said: “You’ll wait until 21:00 this evening”. I asked him why, and he said: “It’s the practice”. I asked him to explain the practice, and he said: “It’s so they don’t ask every 10 minutes when they’ll be released. It’s better for them – when they’re released earlier, they’re happy”.I phoned the army spokesperson’s office and asked whether such a practice exists , and asked them to do something about it. The courteous answer was: “There’s no such practice. We’ll check and get back to you.” On the way home, at 20:00, I got a call from the unit: “We’ve looked into it, and many of the detainees have already been released”. When I asked why it took so long, and why hadn’t everyone been released, I was told: “Security-related reasons. In the end, everyone will be released”. If everyone will ultimately be released, why only now? I wondered out loud. Not expecting an answer, I wished the soldier a happy holiday.Cases where we helped:A man going to hospital for abdominal surgery. He couldn’t explain which operation he would be undergoing. Of course, they didn’t want to let him cross. But when the soldiers’ shift changed, there was no problem in getting him through.A young man who had undergone eye surgery came with his mother. Both of them were refused permission to go through the checkpoint: “Because he’s a liar”. The commander explained that the man said that he’d been operated on that day, but he had gone through the checkpoint the previous day, he remembered him. I explained to the commander that yesterday he’d been admitted to the hospital for pre-surgery tests, while today he had been operated on and was now going home. All this information could easily be found in his papers. OK, he went through.On soldiers’ behaviour:A woman was waiting with her son in the line. He was told to move to the men’s line. She implored the soldiers to let him stay with her: “But he’s my son!” The soldier answered: “I couldn’t care less if he’s your son”. He wasn’t ashamed, even though I was there. Maybe he didn’t notice that I was standing there. In the prevailing total disorder, the son slipped out of line and went back to his mother. (Not everything at a checkpoint can be checked…)A man whose papers were checked was sent to the detainees area. We tried to object and protest, the soldier forced him down into the detainees’ area. His papers were tossed into a box in the sentry-booth. A follow-up (the same day) revealed that the papers in the box weren’t checked at all. They just lay there until the decision was made to release the detainees. This seems quite often to be the practice.A student from the Open University in Ramallah claimed he had no student card because the Open University doesn’t issue student cards. He could only show his textbooks. The soldier laughed in his face: “Anybody can bring books”, (which is true) and the young man was directed down to the detainee area. He was noisily angry and the soldier beckoned to him. Happily (naively) the young man stepped up, whereupon the soldier tied his hands behind his back and sent him down again.Some minutes later I saw some detainees gathered together, with the student in the middle. One of them undid his ties. Getting free, he laughed childishly. The soldier noticed, grabbed him and this time not only tied his hands, but also blindfolded him and made him sit in a tiny concrete sentry-booth, apparently created for the purpose. He pleaded: “Listen, I’m a human being too, just like you, so what if I made a mistake…”To us it seemed that the soldier was about to hit the youth and we moved towards him so he’d see us and be deterred. The soldiers told us to move off and not distract them from working. We had to leave the area. We moved away, but remained standing where we could see what was happening. I think it “helped”.After another two men were handcuffed – the student was released. They couldn’t find his identity card, so I told them where to look for it. Once released, he ran like a little boy towards the others. And if they didn’t check his documents, then it’s my responsibility.Looking over to the other side, I saw some 20 men and woman standing there. It wasn’t an entrance or exit line. They were men waiting for their wives, and wives waiting for the husbands, because the lines separate families. It was getting dark. A stream of adults went through the checkpoint without being checked – now it’s permitted. Most of the women also went through.Two Palestinian women with blue (Israeli) identity cards were detained, but after the usual tedious process they, too, were released.The detainees, who’d been down in the ditch for some hours, asked for water. I asked the soldier permission to fill his water-canteen and give it to them. Big-heartedly, he agreed. Now, where could I find water? He pointed vaguely. I started walking in the indicated direction. After quite a walk I met a Palestinian who knows me and he offered me water from a big container of his friend’s. The friend agreed. They brought water in a small tin cup to the water-canteen. It took some time, but eventually the water-canteen was full and I brought it to the detainees.The water-canteen was passed from one to the other – they drank as if from a jug, their lips didn’t touch it. When I wanted to return it to the soldier, however, it had gone. No one knew where it was. Rather embarrassed, I said it was my responsibility, that if I didn’t return the water-canteen, they wouldn’t give it to me again. Silence.I went down to them, to look for it. One of them said that someone had thrown it into the grass at one side. I went to look, but no luck. I kept on looking and was joined by more and more Palestinians, all searching with me. I felt a bit more hopeful about finding it. Someone waved the water-canteen in the air, and I returned it to the soldier with some satisfaction.On our way home I told the story to the other women. Shelly said: “You may not have heard, but the soldier told them that if they didn’t find the water-canteen, he’d have them all strip-searched”. Good thing I didn’t hear…it was better to think they were helping me!And last of all, an involved story about a complicated family:A youth left the line and asked for our help. His sister was waiting at the side of the entrance to Nablus, he said, but she wasn’t being permitted to go through. He didn’t want to go through the checkpoint, he’d only come to meet her. His father was a collaborator with Israel General Security Services (Shin Bet) and so he can’t live in Nablus, he’s wanted by the Palestinians. The father works in Israel. He has no home, there’s no one to look after him. All his relatives are in Nablus and all of them have blue (i.e. Israeli) identity cards. The son was even questioned by the Palestinian security forces and released. His sister is studying in Ramallah. Once a month she comes to see her family and every time it’s a problem. At the checkpoints, no one understands what she’s doing in Nablus with an Israeli ID. They have no patience to hear the whole story.I didn’t see how I could help them, who I could turn to, what I could say. I went to the other women and told them the story from the beginning. While we were thinking what to do, the youth ran up, overjoyed: “My sister’s arrived! Your friend on the other side (of the checkpoint) helped her and she went through. Thank you, thank you!”What a life!