Huwwara

Huwwara checkpoint, Sunday 24.12.06 PMObservers: Tal H, Galit G, Naomi L.As it says in the Chanuka song “Who will relate the mighty deeds of Israel, and who will count them . . . “The “relaxations” observed to date are as follows :At the Tapuach junction there are thorough and probing inspections performed by yeshiva inhabitants , some of whom live in the Tapuach settlement. At the Yitshar junction there are long lines of cars coming from the Jit junction and the Huwwara junction ( 1 ½ minutes away). At the Hawwara checkpoint there are many hundreds of people, who just before we arrived had been released from a four-hour “suspension of all activity”.At the entrance of the village of Zita, there is a road-block consisting of 3 jeeps inspecting the people coming into and out of the village. And among them “Hammers” stalking their victims. And all of the above are just traveling in the West Bank, from a town to a village, from the doctor, from shopping for the festival, from or to work . . . Tapuach junction13.00 - From the North there are no queues, and the passage is fast. From the East, a few cars are waiting. A minibus is ordered to wait at the side of the road, all the passengers get out and are ordered to stand in line, raise their shirts, undo their trousers, and to show what they have in their bags; one with a suitcase is ordered to spread the contents on the asphalt. The soldiers scrupulously inspected a taxi, and after the passengers had proved their innocence, their ID cards were returned to them and they were allowed to continue on their way to the next checkpoint.The same thing happens to all the taxi passengers who have just arrived from the Jit junction and undergone the same “treatment” there also – and before that either the Beit Iba or Anafta, or A-Ras, or Al Biduan checkpoints, or several of them one after the other.A road-block on the Yitshar – Hawwara road, 1 ½ minutes from the Hawwara checkpoint – about 40 taxis crowded in 3 lines are trying to squeeze into a single inspection line. Some of them left the Hawwara checkpoint just a few minutes earlier, and their passengers are again exposed defencelessly, and subject to the orders and domination of the soldiers who inspect them with drawn weapons.Huwwara checkpoint :13.45 A crowd of people in the lines; the so-called “humanitarian” line reaches to past the taxi fence; people relate that for 4 hours no-one was allowed to pass. Many women with small children and babies, laden with packages. Hundreds of men are crowded into the turnstiles, while 2, and later 3, military police-women are inspecting, shouting and telling-off the people passing through. Two English women who escape from the queue and who express their shock and disgust from the experience they have undergone, relate that the children were crying, and the dog-handler stood with her gun drawn near the line of women and children in order to intimidate them. She cursed some women who had laid their packages on the concrete wall enclosing them . . . and the soldiers ignored what was happening and said “that’s the situation and there is nothing to be done about it”. During the whole shift, and also before, there was no representative of the humanitarian centre present.We contacted the office of the centre, and were told that everyone was in a meeting. We wondered how it was that the army established a long “cessation of all activity”, and didn’t send a representative to deal with the humanitarian problems that resulted. We were promised that an officer would soon arrive, but he hadn’t appeared by the time that we left the checkpoint.There was a large flow of women and old people coming out of the queue – a father with a sick child stopped angrily next to us and told us that he has already been waiting for 6 hours, the child was sick and his wife was in hospital - “yesterday, the meeting took place between Olmert and Abu Mazen, and what did you do ? Nothing !”When we arrived there were very many soldiers at the checkpoint. An officer, with the rank of lieutenant, attempted to reduce the pressure, especially in the line for women and elderly men. In the young mens’ line there was a completely different story : a military policewoman shouted ceaselessly at those passing through. A young man asked to be allowed to go to Huwwara where he lives and the soldiers prevented him. “You are denied” they tell him. “What do you mean “denied”, I live in Huwwara and am hurrying to work”. Two soldiers close-up to him with their weapons. He demands assertively to receive his ID back. Then, it appears that a military policewoman takes a stand “on principle”, its not clear about what, and orders the soldiers to return him to Nablus. The checkpoint commander asks if his name is in the “wolves group” (the secret service “wanted” list). “Certainly not” they answer – it appears that they receive their orders only from determined and impertinent policewomen . . .“So free him” he orders them, and they do so.16.30. A river of peopled leaves the line at the side. In the turnstiles everything is held up; dense crowding that is hard to describe. In addition to the inspections and the body searches, the men also receive an educational lesson : a military policewoman in the middle inspection station ceaselessly shouts at the waiting men : “Hey, Hey, Zalam (a demeaning word, approximately meaning “fellow”). Her voice is loud enough to be heard above the mishmash of the mens’ voices, the babies’ crying and the beeping of the inspection magnometers. Actually, why are magnometers needed anyway, if the men are ordered to open their coats, lift up their sweaters, shirts and under-vest, to turn around and not to forget to open their trouser-legs. The speed of the inspections is very, very slow, and the waiting time is correspondingly very long. The women with children who passed through a long time before wait beyond the checkpoint until the men come out.A piercing cold descends on the checkpoint as the sun sets. In the emerging vehicle line, the dog-handler sends the dog (thought by many Palestinians to be a contaminated animal) into a car with wide-open doors. Today, the day of relaxations, no car escapes the fate of the dog’s inspection, and the passengers are required to stand in a straight line, to undress the top part of their body in public, including their hat which protects them against the cold, to turn around, open their parcels on the ground, and succeed to get their ID cards back before proceeding to the next checkpoint. Nevertheless, not all the soldiers are the same. A woman with 2 small children waits for her husband at the detainees’ pen. She is very ill and its difficult for her to sit down, on the verge of fainting. The children run around the pen. Two Palestinian policemen asked the soldiers for help, and he – unexpectedly – made an effort to find her husband and pull him out of the line. However, she was so ill that she had to be supported by the two Palestinians towards the taxis. A few minutes later, the soldier managed to find the husband and help him pass through the checkpoint.On the other hand, a man holding a baby in his arms was standing in the line at the side and held out his ID card for inspection. In this case also, he had been standing for over an hour. The soldier told him “take the baby to your wife and move to the mens’ line”. The man turned to the checkpoint commander who told him the same thing. The woman was called to take the child and the man was sent to the start of the mens’ line. He would have to wait another 2 hours until his turn arrived . . .17.50 The turnstiles are still crowded.. The humanitarian representative still hasn’t arrived. Women and children wait for their husbands in the exit area. Those waiting 0n the path near the turnstiles are sent to stand far from view. The men are ordered to bare their stomachs in the freezing cold, in everyone’s view – and in particular in the view of the military policewomen. The beeping of the magnometer has no significance apart from its irritating presence.On our way home, the Yitshar road-block had disappeared and there were no soldiers or lines of cars. At the Tapuach junction there were about 16 cars waiting.18.45 At the exit from Zata Jamein on the Trans-Shomron road : in absolute darknes there is a road-block – 3 jeeps and at least 8 soldiers (some drinking cocoa – reserve soldiers ?), are blocking the movement of cars coming from and to Zita Janein. The road-block is operated with the aid of the Jeeps’ head-lights and a small pocket torch in the hands of one of the soldiers. He is the only one performing the inspections. When we got out of our car, no vehicles were being allowed to leave. We asked “why the road-block ?” and the answer was “someone burned a tire on the trans-Shomron highway and it could have caused a traffic accident”. On our way to the road-block we had indeed seen thick black smoke on one of the distant hills, but not on or near the road. On our way back we searched but didn’t find the remains of any tire that had burned on the road. We waited, and the cars started to move. All the passengers had to get out of their cars, their documents were “checked” by the light of the small torch – it wasn’t clear to us what was the quality of the check. Some of those waiting gave-up and returned to Zita. The others waited without a choice to the one and only soldier who was searching. All the others were occupied with directing the traffic – just so that there wouldn’t be a traffic accident caused by Israelis rushing home along the Trans-Shomron highway in the dark. The soldiers insisted that we distance ourselves for the road-block because “it’s a shooting area”. “What shooting ?” we asked, “you said that there was a burning tire on the road; decide which !”. And mainly they sat with their hands in their pockets and chatted.19.15. When the line of cars had shrunk to 3, we left. We hadn’t received the answer that was promised us form the humanitarian centre, or from the brigade HQ.On our way home, we hummed “who will relate . . . . yes, in each generation a hero will rise, the peoples’ saviour . . ”