Feeling the heat in Hebron

According to the Abrahamic religions, that is to say Judaism, Christianity and Islam, Hebron is where human civilisation started.  It now appears to me to be where it is tearing itself apart.  The ideological and actual struggle between the Arab population and the Jewish Israeli settlers is fraught with hatred and violence and whilst walking through the now dilapidated markets of the old town or the deserted streets of the Israeli settlement a sense of intransient destruction pervades.

Trade and activity in the antiquated souk of the old town is sluggish at best due to the strangulation by the settlement developments and the forced closures of many shops.  Some resilient traders remain, “this shop has been in my family for over sixty years and I will stay here till I die” said Jamaal the Hebron market trader in his misplaced Mancunian accent.  In the alley outside his store there is wire mesh and fencing overhead to protect those walking below from the festering waste that the settlers throw down from above.  “They throw on to us dirty nappies, used toilet paper, waste water, half full cans of drink….” hissed an angry but resilient young man who still lives with his family in the old town.  The proof is there for all to see rotting on the wire mesh in the mid day sun.  

Once inside the Jewish Israeli settlement there was a complete absence of any signs of life or activity.  All of the shops were barricaded closed and the trees and shrubs were reclaiming the buildings.  To demarcate this desolate territory as exclusively Jewish all of the shop fronts have been sprayed with the Star of David.  One can’t help but feel that there is either a complete misunderstanding or disregard for history.  Didn’t the Nazis mark all Jewish properties in the same manner? When speaking to the official spokesman for the Jewish community in Hebron, David Wilder, I challenged him about the rubbish thrown down on his Arab neighbours and he reasoned “we have been trying to clean that for a number of years but we have been prevented because it can be used as a serious piece of propaganda against us.  One has to remember that for many years people were physically attacked…and there were times when some people, especially the younger folk, had difficulty controlling themselves”.

The settlers live completely separated from the Arab community in a fortified complex dominated by barbed wire, concrete roadblocks, army watchtowers and a road network reserved exclusively for Jewish Israelis.  Throughout the markets they have occupied the upper floors of many of the buildings and in some cases they control whole streets which are barricaded with steel gates and barbed wire.  Consequently they can roam through the upper floors of the sealed buildings and the overhead passageways almost completely out of view of their unwanted neighbours.   Human interaction between the two communities is non-existent.

The click click of rotating turnstiles and the bleep bleep of metal detectors is not the sound one usually associates with the entrance to a place of worship.  It is unfortunately the welcome received at the Ibrahimi mosque in the heart of Hebron’s old city.  As well as being the supposed burial place of Abraham, Isaac and Rebecca, Joseph, Jacob and Leah it is also the place of one of the most barbaric incidents in Palestine’s recent history.  During morning prayers on February 25, 1994, during the holy month of Ramadan, a settler by the name of Dr, Baruch Goldstein burst into the mosque in Israeli military uniform and opened fire on the prostrating worshipers.  By the time he was overwhelmed and killed he had managed to murder 29 men and boys and wound almost 200 more.  It is a shocking and depressing thought that his tomb and memorial are to this day a pilgrimage sight for ultra-right-wing Zionists.

In the eyes of the settlers the real breakdown in trust and coexistence between the Arabs and Jews in Hebron was in 1929 with the murder of 67 Jews by the Arabs and the expulsion of the remaining community by the British.   The amorality of this act is undeniable but the question of causality has to be raised.  Was it not the case that the violent breakdown in Arab-Jewish relations in Palestine was because of the stated designs of the Zionists to take over the whole country for Jewish domination?  David Wilder’s response was categorical “No, Not at all! The fact is Haj Amin al-Husseini (the grand mufti at the time) was a tremendous Jew hater and anti Semite.  In 1929 it was the period before the war of independence when Zionism was still a very small movement…the land was pretty much desolate”.   This is very thin ice to tread.  By 1929 the Balfour declaration had been signed and the Zionists had the support of the British for their homeland in Mandate Palestine.  Arab fears and resentments were very real and justified.  That the land was pretty much desolate is a myth that has been categorically disproven so many times it’s not necessary for me to dispute it. 

Not only are the settlers completely cut off from their Arab neighbours in Hebron but they are also sitting on the fringes of Israeli society.  Their messianic conviction that there needs to be a restitution of the Jewish people in all of Eretz Israel doesn’t bode well with many Israelis.  With that said the power of the settler communities is growing with much of their support and money coming from ideological Zionists, particularly from America.  I wanted to know if David thought that if Israel were to be guaranteed its security in a final political solution then the Palestinian people should be granted a viable and sovereign Palestinian state.  His answer was very telling, “of course, they can form a state in Sinai (a large desert in Egypt) if they want…or east of the Jordan river in the country that is today called Jordan.”  In essence he means there is no place for the Palestinians in Palestine!

Many Israeli apologists try to portray the disastrous colonisation of Hebron as the workings of a group of fundamentalists living in a messianic fantasy world outside of mainstream Israeli society.  However, the Israeli government provides four soldiers for every settler and it builds the settler only roads, the watchtowers and the fortifications. With such blatant and explicit support from central government it is not credible to dismiss this as the workings of a fringe group of extremists.  To quote a 2004 report by the Alternative Information Centre which is a joint Israeli-Palestinian initiative “Israel’s settlement policy, which supports the presence of radical Jewish fundamentalists with a strong anti-Arab identity in the middle of a Palestinian city, is the proximate reason for the high level of violence in Hebron…”.          

Houses of Hope

Muhammad al-Nimr, 10, had been at home with his family when Israeli soldiers came knocking on the door to evict them.  They were told their house was an illegal construction and it was to be destroyed within the hour.  When asked how he felt about Israelis as he watched his family home being demolished there was no hesitation in his response, “I hated them, I despised them, I wanted to kill them!”  As he stood watching the team of volunteers from the Israeli Council Against House Demolitions (ICAHD) rebuild the family home some remnants of trust seemed to have been salvaged, “we see that they are not all the same.  There are some who destroy and there are some who build”.

ICAHD’s founder, Jeff Halper, is an Israeli Jew who strives as an academic and activist to challenge the status quo of Israeli society.  He reasons, “Israel cannot have security through military means.  You can’t have security with walls, and occupation, and house demolitions, and everything else.  The only security for Israel in the long run is through peace”.  He adds as a note of caution that even the word ‘peace’ can be misleading.  Peace doesn’t just mean peace and quiet.  If it is to prevail then it has to compose a just and lasting political solution. 

If a real political settlement is ever to be made then he believes that the ‘matrix of control’ needs to be dismantled.  This may sound like some dodgy computer animated film with wooden actors and a series of spin off computer games but what it refers to are the instruments of the occupation such as the settler only roads, the forced evictions, the house demolitions, the ID cards, the separation wall and the checkpoints which collectively control virtually every aspect of Palestinian life.  The idea that I was making my token contribution towards dismantling the ‘matrix of control’ provided some solace as I stood dripping with sweat mixing cement for the al-Nimri’s new home. 

Selim Shu Amery is a resident in the same area who has had his home demolished four times, and sure as night follows day he has rebuilt it every time.  It is evident from speaking to him and others in the community that these individual acts of defiance are powerful forms of passive resistance.  Despite the Israeli obligation under the 4^th Geneva Convention to protect the citizens it has been illegally occupying since 1967 most Palestinians can’t help but feel they are being squeezed off the land.  With over 24,000 house demolitions since 1967, the forced evictions, the expropriation of land, the uprooting of over 1.5 million trees and the construction of the separation wall it’s easy to see why.  To keep on building is to keep hope.

For those Palestinians who ICAHD works with to rebuild their homes it is of symbolic, practical and personal importance to have Israelis in their corner.  Selim explains, “ICAHD works hard to take [away] the cover of the demolitions…it’s not that Palestinian’s don’t like to get building permits, it is the Kafkaesque system which is used by the Israeli occupation system, pushing Palestinians inside their villages, inside their cities so the land will be empty for the occupation purposes”.  Whilst Jeff is the first to admit that ICAHDs activities are on the fringes of Israeli society he nonetheless reaches out to engage his fellow nationals.  The value of these efforts is not lost on Selim, “hundreds of the Israelis are coming to support us in the rebuilding. Hundreds are coming to our home here in al-Arabiya to talk about the house demolitions.  Can you believe a lot of these Israelis don’t realise their government is an occupier?  Then when you tell them and speak to them they become shocked.  I hope these people who come here can spread in the Israeli community and talk about our situation here”.

Although ICAHD does work to engage its fellow Israelis they put more faith in influencing the international community.  But why would outsiders to the conflict be more inclined to get involved and show an interest? “First of all I would hope the very merits of the situation mean something to people.  These are violations of human rights, they’re war crimes, they’re crimes against humanity, oppression, injustice.  People should care about that” was Jeff Halpers initial response.  Considering his cynical attitude towards Israeli society this seemed like a slightly idealistic expectation of the rest of us.  Luckily he continued on a more pragmatic path, “people have to understand that this is a conflict that is destabilising the entire global system…you’re civil liberties in the UK are being compromised by this conflict”.  Maybe there is some truth in that old adage, ‘if you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem’.

We refuse to be enemies!

When Dahood Naaser talks about his land you could be forgiven for thinking that he is talking about one of his children.  His words are not the grand statements of a politician or a nation builder but rather the heartfelt expressions of a man who has been raised with his hands in the soil. The land of which he speaks is a hilltop plot in the heart of the West Bank and whilst reflecting on the struggles of the occupation he told me “If I say I protect my land…I love my land, that means I have to take care of it, to appreciate it”.  Soon after my arrival I made myself comfortable on his veranda where the sun had past its mid day fury, there was a soft afternoon haze over the hills and only the whirling Mediterranean breeze broke the silence in the air.

The family’s land was purchased by Dahood’s grandfather in 1916 and they still hold title deeds from the Ottomans, British, Jordanians and even the Israelis. Yet despite Dahood’s legal rights over the land and the fact that three generations of his family have lived (and often died) working the soil the Israeli government has nevertheless claimed it as state land.  Consequently, the family now find themselves in a protracted and tiresome struggle to keep the land from being swallowed up by the Israeli settlement expansions around them.  This is not a particularly unique story but the response of the Naasers is.  Dahood summarised the family’s options when he told me “We as Palestinians are faced with three ways to react, which are to react in a violent way, or resignate [sic], or to leave the area because of our frustrations…our fourth option which we have created here is when we say ‘we refuse to be enemies!’”.   This is not a statement made purely on moral grounds, it is also a calculated form of resistance which Dahood believes is the only way to secure his land whilst also achieving peace with his Jewish neighbours.

Dahood’s calm, reflective and well-considered attitude impresses me all the more when I think about the difficulties he has endured for his land.  The family have had to spend over $140,000 on legal fee’s in over 20 years of court battles, the land receives no water or electricity, the building of any new structures over a couple of feet high is prohibited (the Israeli state has even threatened to dismantle the tents in which guests stay), his family have been subject to intimidation from armed settlers and so the list goes on.  Yet despite all this he is hesitant, reluctant even, to focus on the negative aspects of his struggle, “for us we are the victims as Palestinians but you know when you speak to the Israeli’s they say ‘no we are the victims’.  We need to move out of this circle…to act instead of reacting”.

The choice of passive resistance is on the one hand tactical. Dahood understands that reacting violently will facilitate the confiscation of his land on security grounds and allow the last of the Palestinian hilltops in the valley to become a military post or another illegal suburban settlement.  “When I refuse to be an enemy I take the power away from them” is Dahood’s strategic reasoning.  Beyond this he is also motivated by a firm belief that violence is ultimately destructive to both the Jews and the Palestinian Arabs, “during all these years, and the situations we are facing violence did not bring any solutions.  It brought only bitterness, hatred and revenge and these are three things that are destructive”.  What’s more he has faith in a solution that is reminiscent of Nelson Mandela’s vision of “a means for all of us to assert our common humanity”.  

One of the most striking aspects of the Israeli occupation of the West Bank is the almost complete physical and social separation of the Palestinian and Israeli communities. Dahood attempts to bridge this divide at the Tent Of Nations because as he explains “…the Arab-Israeli conflict is based on occupation, but the issue is that many people from both sides they don’t know anything about each other and this is because of the separation.  I believe that if many Israeli’s have the opportunity to come and see the other side they will act differently…when people come and understand and connect the situation with the faces of the people they go back home changed.”  The gates of The Tent Of Nations are open to everyone, from any nationality or creed, so long as they come in peace.

All guests are encouraged to get involved in working the land and during my time at the farm I developed some formidable blisters on my hands tilling the soil in the vine and olive groves.  With the sun setting over the distant Mediteranean Sea and the sound of the evening call to prayer echoing through the valleys Dahood told me “Land is part of our identity…we need people to appreciate their land to have the true belonging to it.  To live for their country, not to die for their country”.  His words seemed to make my muscles and blisters ache less.  Yet there was a sorrowful tone in his voice when he spoke of the destruction meted out on the land by both the Palestinians and the Israelis. In his eyes the political struggle has to be based on the protection of the earth as a resource and not just as a competition for lines on a map.

The Tent of Nations is only a tiny speck on the screen of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and Dahood is well aware of the scope of their influence, “I believe in small steps and I believe everyone is capable within his own capacities to change the situation”.  Whilst it is true he is only one amongst millions perhaps his examples could provide inspiration for the Palestinian people as a whole; tenacity of spirit and a refusal to give in, organised and strategic passive resistance, reaching out to educate and involve sectors of the international community and Israeli society, protection and respect for the land and finally, recognition of the responsibility of everyone to share in the struggle for peace and justice.  In Dahood’s words “I don’t want my children to inherit this conflict from me and the same from the other side, they want the best for their children…and peace should grow from the grass roots, from the ground as an olive tree”.    

Tis' the season to be jolly

There is no tolerance for side stepping awkwardly on the edge of the dance floor at Arabic weddings (not that I’d personally ever entertain such behaviour).  You have no option but to get well and truly involved in the dance floor action and whatever you do, don’t forget to move those hips! 

Almost every night I can hear the sound systems blaring and car horns honking for another night of nuptial revelry.  Summer time means wedding time and this year’s season is particularly busy because everyone wants to tie the knot before the start of the holy month of Ramadan in just over a month.  Good job I packed my dancing shoes!  Last night we went to our first wedding of the trip and what an opener it was.  Wedding parties here generally fall into two categories; those with the men and women together and those with the men and women separated.  Although last night was segregated, needless to say the less popular kind of shindig, there was much fun to be had.

A disproportionately high number of the groom’s family were deaf and dumb, including the groom himself, but that didn’t keep them off the dance floor.  At one point the DJ cleared the tiles purely for the deaf people (around 30 lads), wacked up the volume and let the mayhem ensue.  Watching the group go absolutely spare to ridiculously loud arabesque disco music was a sight I won’t be forgetting in a hurry. 

I still had my time to shine.  After lots of Arabic music and traditional dabkha dancing the DJ thought he’d play something for the younger crowd to really get down to.  Out of nowhere he slammed on some dodgy Euro-dance music and the place went completely insane.  As the only foreigner in the house I was dragged into the centre and everyone wanted to have a dance with me, or at least throw me up on their shoulders. I think they were adequately impressed or at least entertained by my moves.  It was half nine at night in Bethlehem, no one was on anything stronger than 7up, groups of amused and slightly bemused middle aged Arab men watched on and yet this was one of the maddest little raves I think I’d ever been in.  Happy days!  

Who am I and what is it to you?

There are now more Palestinians living outside of Palestine as part of the diaspora than those who remain. I suppose this is not so surprising considering their history of more than half a century of conflict and in nearly all cases defeat. “Happiness is not to be enjoyed alone but has to be shared” proffered Karim to me as he poured me some of his fresh herbal tea. Born and raised in Jerusalem he has spent a considerable amount of his adult life adopting a nomadic existance as one of these scattered people and life as a daffodil picker on St.Ives was one of his incarnations during these wondering years. It is rare for foreigners to sing the praises of British cuisine but he holds Scottish muffins followed by a nip of whisky as one of the world’s great culinary delicacies.

Years of dislocation and reflection have graced the man with a melancholy yet inspired manner and his years of searching for understanding and new experiences have gifted him an insightful and philosophical lens through which to view life back home. Whilst we were sharing a flat together we spent many hours discussing everything from great British food to the history of Palestinian resistance. “There is no policy for peace, only a policy for power” he said as we lamented the reality of what people still insist on calling the “peace process”. Like Karim I believe the “peace process” has remained a misnomer for what is in affect a policy of continued occupation, military expansionism, racist discrimination and economic subversion.

Karim is a film maker and photographer who is currently working with a local cultural centre to educate young people and their trainers in the tools of his trade. His personal mission extends beyond teaching just the technical skills. For him it is about nourishing creative courage by honest, probing minds. Why? Because the survival of culture is pivotal to the survival of the Palestinian people.

A great success of the Zionists and a great failure of the Arabs has been the virtual complete dehumanising of the Palestinian people and their resistance. The consequences are grave. Firstly, those of us external to the situation become unable to truly empathise with their reality and therefore fall short of offering any significant level of support or pressure for change. However, perhaps more damaging is how the new generation of Palestinians are in danger of losing a true understanding of themselves, where they come from and the communities they compose. When vacuous political slogans and myopic religious dogma become the primary forms of personal and communal expression the forecasts are ominous. This truth is by no means limited only to Palestine! The mentality and means of true creative self-expression are integral to the development of a real peace process.

A concrete canvas

People often ask me why I love the Middle East so much and I always struggle to find a suitable answer. After almost three years back in the UK I arrived a couple of days ago in Tel Aviv airport at some ungodly hour in the morning. Relieved to have been spared the notorious hospitality of the Ben Gurian airport security I made a beeline straight to the revered city of Jerusalem. As I spent the early hours wondering around watching the ancient medina rise from its slumber I decided it was the cordial chaos of life and intimate banter here that pleases me so much. Cockey lads selling fruit juice, groups of men huddled over the black gammon board and jostling market traders. Time flows through this place and the people don’t chase it.

Before my arrival my minds eye had this contested land clearly delineated into Arab and Jew or Israeli and Palestinian. However in the old city of Jerusalem (admittedly only less than 1% of the whole municipality) there is a history of inter-communal and interfaith existence that precedes any of our modern states by millennia. It is true that the fate of this city, which is a spiritual and actual epicentre for all of the monotheistic faiths, is integral to the ongoing conflicts in the region. However, to fresh eyes at least, there is somehow at least the illusion of a continued coexistence which muddies the waters of whose is whose and where is for whom.

En route to Bethlehem, which is in the occupied territories of the West Bank, olive trees speckle the hillsides on terraces, stacked like sedimentary layers of toil, sweat and love. Although I’ve seen plenty of pictures of the separation wall the reality of the crass, violent and insidious concrete structure that cuts it’s way through this biblical scene strikes as a stark reminder of the nature of the Israeli occupation; to ghettoise the remaining Palestinian communities and further cantonise the land. It is suddenly very clear whose is whose and where is for whom! Having arrived in Aida refugee camp where I will be based for the coming couple of months the wall is only ever a stones throw away. Just a few hundred metres from my flat the anonymous UK street artist Banksy used this ubiquitous monstrosity as his canvas to succinctly illustrate the natural conclusion of the wall’s construction. And what did he paint? A snipers target sitting squarely over the heart of a dove of peace.