Asking Permission

Following the Israeli onslaught on the Gaza Strip of November 2012, a ceasefire was held between Israeli colonial forces and the Palestinian resistance. Mediated by Egypt, one of the terms of the ceasefire was “Opening the crossings and facilitating the movements of people and transfer of goods and refraining from restricting residents’ free movements […]”.  This was blatantly an achievement on the resistance’s part; “opening the crossings” obviously meant freedom of travel. Now, instead of travelling from the West Bank across the Jordanian border, flying into Cairo, followed by a six hour drive across the Sinai desert to the Palestinian-Egyptian border all to be back on Palestinian soil and into Gaza, Gaza was now no more than an hour’s drive away. In February, my mother took the opportunity and tested how far this ceasefire condition was to be implemented, if at all. I quickly learned that my initial reaction to the condition was proven to be correct: the roads between the West Bank and Gaza are still very much under Israeli control, the only difference being that it is now less complicated to enter Gaza from the West Bank, the provisions for this being an Israeli permit through Erez checkpoint. The condition basically set out to mean that the Israeli side is more lax in their treatment of families living under apartheid, however impulsive this treatment is to be [“facilitating the movements...”].

Due to the mistrust that had risen from trying out various means (that had proved themselves to be futile) for my family to meet under one roof despite Israeli occupation preventing us from doing so, I was shocked when the one-week Israeli permit for entering Gaza via Erez checkpoint was actually issued. The permit was issued, and the controversy and conflicting thoughts on it surfaced as well.

According to the different lengths of Israeli colonialism that coincide with the different geographical areas of Palestine, some areas may have higher travel ability over others, a phenomenon that is safe to call a sort of privilege in terms of travel. For example, Palestinians who are holders of Israeli ID and/or citizenship are able to travel to the West Bank and ’48 lands. Holders of West Bank ID are restricted to the West Bank but have a slightly higher chance of acquiring Israeli permits into ’48 lands and Jerusalem (mainly by use of intermediaries) than holders of Gaza ID. And despite a condition of the ceasefire agreement to state “facilitating the movements of people”, it is still extremely difficult and rarely heard of that Palestinians with Gaza ID are able to travel to the West Bank and ’48 lands and Jerusalem. With these points in mind, Palestinian society has been layered into those more “privileged” than others, for once in a different context than that relating to economic income or profession.

Israeli permits used by West Bank ID holders are not easy to get hold of, and mainly expire within 12 hours. The reasons for acquiring such permits vary; some are used out of necessity, be it for work, or in a matter of life or death: for efficient medical care only found in AlMaqased “Hadassah” Hospital in Jerusalem. Some permits are used for trips into ’48 Palestine. My permit to enter Gaza was under the pretext of seeing first-degree family. Regardless of the reason, it is Israel that supplies or denies these permits, all within regulations such as “valid for 12 hours/3 days/one week” “valid except to enter Eilat”. The fact that it is Israel that has the upper hand to “facilet[ate] the movements” and impose the conditions in which we are to travel is yet another systematic aspect of its  colonialism. It is worth nothing that Israeli permits are very unpredictable; there is no guarantee that they will ever be issued, even with the use of intermediaries.

Furthermore, the system of Israeli permits is at times used in a political and economic sense, as was shown following Eid al Fitr last year. 100,000 Israeli permits were issued during the 3-day holiday, double the amount of the preceding year. These permits being issued more liberally was purely a chance to “Muslimwash” Israel’s image in front of the media, following the vast media attention it received from denying worshippers the opportunity to travel. The move of issuing a vast amount of permits was also beneficiary to the Israeli economy, with the sad notion of “Israeli goods being of a better quality and price” put in full action by Palestinians who took the opportunity of these permits to flood Israeli malls.

There has also been a more lax treatment in the permit policy for the reason of making life under colonialism more “bearable”; this reasoning is currently in use to cancel the chances of a third Intifada.

For these reasons, these permits ought to be rightly opposed. However, the harsh reality of occupation calls for desperate measures at times, making the efficient boycott of these permits easier said than done: without Israeli permits, Palestinian families as mine may not be reunited together, even for a short time. Efficient medical care may not be reached and visits to ‘48, however dire the chances are, may never be a possibility. This epitomizes the meaning of being colonized: by being subject in every sense to the colonizer’s disposition. In the meantime, the Israeli system of permits remains impulsive in nature, prolonged without a sustainable liberation movement being the guarantee of the elimination of these permits along with Israel’s systematic policies once and for all. So unless you and I are the ones carrying Kalashnikovs until decolonization, nobody has the right to declare the other “less patriotic” or “more colonized” than the other for using these permits, for the feelings of repulsion at carrying a piece of paper that determines our movements with تصريح in Arabic misspelled to تصريخ is enough to know where our anger should firstly be directed at. 

Colonists’ fun is our apartheid

In recent years, the Palestinian Authority’s plan for a state-building mechanism under national division and uninhibiting Zionist colonialism has come to effect solely in their capital, Ramallah. While government workers currently receive half of their monthly salaries and streets resemble rivers whenever it rains, a staggering number of cafes, bars and restaurants has sprung up in Ramallah. To cut it short, Ramallah has now appeared as a large cafeteria, the results of its wannabe New York City atmosphere being that it has become sought after by the Palestinian elite class that can regularly afford an overpriced hangout, the foreign NGO workers and their saviour attitudes, and, now, a fancy place accessible to Israelis. Yes, Israelis. 

Ramallah, which lies in the “Area A” part of the West Bank and thereby coming under complete Palestinian Authority control, is not the only place in the West Bank that has been under the attack of Israelis acting upon their colonial privilege. 972mag journalist Yuval Ben Ami describes a visit to a famous restaurant in the village of Birzeit, and Eitan here describes, while attending the Palestinian Oktoberfest in the village of Taiba, that he attended because such events are important as they “bring people together”. 

This outcry is not based on the actual Palestinian town or village in the West Bank that Israelis visit, but the fact that they do so, normalizing Israeli ’67 occupation in the process. While the newest custom for the less extremist of Israeli settlers today is to attend to the West Bank in the name of a “non-politicized” view of life, Palestinians in the West Bank and Gaza continue to live under military occupation that prohibits them from travelling as freely. Furthermore, more than one million Palestinians remain exiled from their original homes for almost 65 years following the Nakba, some of which existed in the present-day West Bank areas. 

Even some of those who identify as Israeli activists act upon their privilege when entering the West Bank for reasons other than Friday protests and other actions, thereby contravening the “solidarity” they claim to have. 

As for colonists already invading the West Bank itself, their freedom to travel back and forth to ’48 Palestine is granted by the color of their skin.

Settler privilege is embodied perfectly in these Israelis as they use the advantage granted to them through the colonization and occupation of Palestine in nonchalance in an attempt to live without the restraints of a militarized ethnocracy while Palestinians cannot.

While giving that sense of entitlement to Israelis, colonial privilege also seems to blindly contribute faulty justifications for itself. The next time an Eitan says that coming to the West Bank is supposed to “bring people together”, we must let him go back, knowing our wish that a million exiled Palestinians could do the same. Sweeping obscenities like normalizing apartheid under a rug of liberalism has the potential to make them look unimportant, which in turn gives the impression that Israelis are getting a tad too comfortable as colonisers. 

But occupation tastes better

Let the attitude of ‘’Arabs are shit’’ oppress your mind as you enter every supermarket and, if you don’t stop yourself, as this horrid mentality soon becomes a norm, if it hasn’t already, affecting not only your economic choices but your entire life and the generations you raise. 1-0 to Colonialism.

Take absolutely no responsibility for the duty of rejection in every form, instilled in your blood for the colonialist settler state and power of expropriation forced on you as you blindly live up to their measures.

Ignore Samer AlBarq and his 122 day hunger strike, as you could never understand what the meaning of a fight to free yourself of a state of mind stronger than shackles binding your hands behind your back and forcing you to kneel, kneel to occupation; acceptance, is.

Alas, these products are “tastier”. Get fatter, feed off of Zionism, and feed off of the raping of your ancestors’ property and not by the property itself.

Chains are not necessarily metallic.

Khader Adnan, a baker from Jenin, makes traditional pastries with thyme. With produce mingled with the trust of remaining entrenched in this land and the determination not to make space for fascist ideologies of brown-skinned individuals as a much lesser class, he makes pastries with thyme.

Away from Ramallah Bubble, Apartheid in AlKhalil

The vivid green landscapes surround us, a clear indication that we have exited Ramallah bubble as its sickly KFC stench and looming corporate buildings are no longer in seeing (and smelling!) reach. This was the road to AlKhalil, a road trip that, despite the magnificent beauty of Palestine, was made aghast by the sight of numerous Israeli settlements built illegally on annexed Palestinian land (we had, after all, just exited the PA centered Ramallah bubble and the sight of these red-roofed villas was a first hand glimpse of colonialism, the basis of the occupation of Palestine, and a spiteful gesture to all humanitarian rights and consciences.) 

The old city of AlKhalil begins with an extension of Shuhada Street, a once flourishing market that connected the North of AlKhalil to the West. This street has been turned into a “ghostown” following the settler Baruch Goldstein’s massacre of 29 Palestinians that were inside the Ibrahimi Mosque in 1994. To prevent retaliation on the Palestinians’ part, Israeli occupation forces imposed collective punishment and strict restrictions on their freedom of movement. Later that year, the dreaded Oslo accords were signed, splitting AlKhalil into 2 areas known as H1 and H2; H1 is under full Palestinian authority control while H2 is under full Israeli military rule. Shuhada Street fell under H2, which lead to an immediate military closure of over 500 stores.

Its entrance is operated by a checkpoint. The reason for this is the time washed excuse of “wanting to protect the Jewish settlers” yet if this was truly the case, our belongings should have been systematically and thoroughly searched through, which they were not. One of the +500 checkpoints and roadblocks situated throughout the “West Bank”, this was just another means for Israeli occupying soldiers to harass and humiliate Palestinians. Barely out of their teens, these forces make a perfect example of epitomizing the entire fascist system of Israeli occupation.

Passing this checkpoint, you have entered area “H2″. Down the deserted road sits an Israeli occupation policeman and soldier. They sit near a flight of stairs and make sure that Palestinians (“Arabs”) are to take the stairs while “Jews and tourists” have the full liberty to continue down the street.

Up these stairs lie old homes, a school, and a cemetery. The homes on top of the stairs are inhabited by Palestinians and overlook the other Palestinian homes on the part of the street that is down the stairs that now are the sorry bearers of illegal fascist Jewish settlers. These homes are not red-roofed tiled villas. They are indigenous Palestinian homes.

 The Fourth Geneva Convention states that “International humanitarian law prohibits [an] occupying power [from transferring] citizens from its own territory to the occupied territory.”

Israel has not been held accountable for violating this international law and numerous others but we cannot wait for that to magically happen; boycott Israel, divest from Israel and propose sanctions on Israel.

2 roads are separated by a flight of stairs. Windows peep out at each other. 2 completely different perspectives are separated by the mentality of religious colonialism, which any sane person would call “apartheid”.

On July 3^rd, 3 Palestinian women were detained for attempting to walk back to AlKhalil’s new city via an extension of a road strictly reserved for Jews and tourists. Originally named Shuhada Street, the street’s name has been ethnically cleansed to King David Street. Upon setting foot on this segregated road, Israeli occupation forces confronted them and proclaimed, “this street is only for Jewish and no Palestinians.” Immediately, Israeli occupying police arrived and asked for ID’s and passports. Despite one of the 3 girls having an American passport and tourist visa, she was still detained. Another female was not detained and not even asked for her ID or passport because of her blonde hair and light skin, despite being 100% Palestinian [all 3 detained women wear hijabs on their heads]. It is worth mentioning that they were also physically and verbally assaulted by illegal Jewish settlers, one of them armed with an AK-47. They were taken to a police station in an illegal settlement and were interrogated. The entire detainment took 7 hours and they were all charged with “obstructing a policeman’s work” . Under Israeli occupation law, there is nothing that states that Palestinians are not to walk on Shuhada Street. If it were any other law, this still cannot be justified; if this is not apartheid, I don’t know what is.

 

Her Resistance is the Larger Beauty

The objectification of women in Palestinian resistance is, like all other forms of objectification, demeaning, disrespectful, and most importantly: in disregard of the true essence of Palestinian resistance.

There has never been gender equality so well defined as there was when Palestinian resistance was founded upon increasing British and Zionist colonialism, which began more than 8 decades back. Palestinian women and men fought valiantly side by side, without being subjected to misogynic retorts by society. Yet years later, when capitalism and NGO investment in an illusion of a Palestinian state destroyed the golden relation both genders lived by, the integral role of Palestinian women in resistance that was recorded up until the first Intifada in 1987 had drastically died down.

The apathy that has gripped Palestine from the 1993 dreaded failure of the Oslo accords is, however slowly, and however insufficient, lessening. For the first time since, protests against the Zionist occupation and PA suppression have been taking place and have had women in the frontlines, always. It is not the case if, to “balance the roles”, the men throw rocks at Israeli military jeeps and soldiers and the women chant in objection to occupation and to energize the men, for many times I have seen the glorious act of Palestinian women throwing rocks, and men have often led the chants. It is only a matter of choice. In resistance, there is no specific role defined for each gender. (Of course, this is not practiced everywhere; the village of Kafr alDeek used to hold weekly demonstrations against the occupation, but due to chauvinism that has risen to effect all aspects of society including resistance in this village specifically, no women were present at the demos. This may be one of the reasons the protests in this village ended a few months after they began without having much impact on the Israeli occupation.)

Where am I getting with this? Well, simply: the reactions to Palestinian women taking part in confrontations with Israeli occupation forces have not been exactly welcoming by all due to the lingering presence of patriarchy. Most importantly, the idea of women taking part in protests has not always been interpreted correctly. That is what I will focus on.

It is very easy to fall into the trap of objectifying women in resistance, and it may even be done unconsciously. Not only is this disrespecting the cause, but it also emphasizes the reason women stand up for themselves.  Fawning over Palestinian women as pictures of them are caught in mid-protest disgraces the Palestinian cause into a show; a display of the seemingly beautiful people that fight. It does not bring the cause itself into light.

You may or may not have heard of the photo exhibition Nesa’iyeh. In its advertisement, it states “The evolving situation on the ground presented Milstein [photographer] with an opportunity to attempt to honestly and fairly create a unique visual record of the new reality and emerging paradigm being created by revolutionary Palestinian women.”

I have not been to the exhibition but I have seen Milstein’s photography. He is one photographer of many that offends the Palestinian cause as he focuses on the faces and expressions of “female Palestinian Gandhis” instead of what they resist for. Glorifying humans by capturing their evident facial strength and beauty with a click of a lens is photographic skill- when it is done to one half of the Palestinian struggle, the women, it is objectification; this offensive practice completely disregards the struggle that Palestinians, particularly the women, have been living in and sacrificing for.

This is one example of the exteriorization of the Palestinian cause. Another common one is the exaggerated hype on the subject of the kuffiyeh- the traditional checkered scarf that was acclaimed to be a national symbol of Palestinian resistance since the fighting against British colonialism (it is not called “Fateh’s scarf” or “Arafat’s scarf” as it was worn long before Fateh came into existence but that is besides the point for now.)

Along with its symbolic purpose, I personally wear the kuffiyeh at demos to cover my face and identity (from the loving parents as well as from the IOF). It is simply insulting to wear a kuffiyeh for the sole reason of emphasizing one’s kohl-lined eyes. Of course, we are not to blame the women who applied kohl and/or mascara (or simply have beautiful eyes) for the photographs taken of them as they are in mid protest dodging plastic coated metal bullets and fighting the suffocation of the tear gas, kuffiyehs covering everything but their eyes. The photographers that intentionally focus on a woman’s exterior during such an event are to be held responsible, and those who endorse and romanticize it as acts of power and resistance are to be educated (sadly, many are Palestinians). Simply put, captivation of a person’s beauty is not Palestinian resistance, but a materialization of Palestinians and their cause.

Notice the difference between each picture. One is a clear objectification. The other actually brings the purpose of resistance to show.

To externalize Palestinian women is to externalize a vital part of Palestinian resistance. Instead of romanticizing her, the least that could be done to a Palestinian woman, the fundamental anchor for Palestinians, who sold her gold to afford a new rifle for her husband, dug drenches in an attempt to thwart Zionist advancement into their villages, birthed martyrs, spends year after year yearning for her imprisoned children, siblings, spouse, whose revolutionary voice rings higher than all others, is, to rightfully give her esteem-not for herself, but for her resistance in the name of a free Palestine. This may only be done by nullifying objectification, and when all Palestinian women regain their essential stand in resistance.

Psychological Dilemma

Sudden realization dawned on me today- one split second and everything became quite clear. Or did it?

AbdulHadi AlKhawajah, as described by his exiled daughter Maryam, is “the godfather of human rights in Bahrain.” For over a year now, pro-democracy revolutionaries have taken to the streets of Bahrain in an attempt to overthrow the tyrannical ruling regime of the AlKhalifa monarchy. They have been killed, injured, raped, imprisoned, tortured in the most gruesome and horrific of ways- yet they are undeterred. The Arabic word for steadfast, صمود, has become the most accurate of words to describe the resilience and persistency of the Bahraini revolution and has been delivered via social media site Twitter as a unified symbol of all Bahrainis willing change in the “chat language” variation of “9umood”.

The reforms that the Bahraini regime has said to have made are laughable when hundreds of political prisoners are unjustly locked behind the bars of autocracy and revolutionaries are still dying from either asphyxiation of lethal tear gas fired in an attempt to stifle pro-democracy demonstrations or of the tear gas canisters themselves aimed directly at head and abdomen level (maybe they could give fascist Israel a run for their money). And the entire propaganda labeling the revolution as a sectarian conflict is a cheap tactic presented by the government in an effort to divide and conquer the Bahraini people and to drive attention away from the only goal of the revolution: the downfall of the AlKhalifa regime.

I do not know the details of Bahraini politics but sensibly, one does not need to do research to conclude that the utter madness of the AlKhalifa monarchy must be put to a complete end. I cannot express the horror I feel when Tweeted pictures of the latest victims of the regime crackdown are surfaced..

And yes, some may call me naïve, or small minded, or tell me to see the bigger picture here. In the System, humans are divided and subdivided into groups based on geopolitical interests. Persons like AbdulHadi AlKhawajah, who today enters day 59 of hunger strike against a life sentence ruling by the despotic regime, and is literally dying to live with every passing second, is degradingly displayed to be of less importance than a barrel of oil.

Getting personal

Ever since the murder of Vittorio Arrigoni, I have entered a world called Reality. Confusion cleared up once I realized that one System intertwines and suppresses the truth and the righteous; need I state the names of all defenders and believers of humanity that were killed off easier than clicking “delete?”. It is the belief of the System that a beating heart must be pierced-a show of humanity is horribly outside their control and must be put away. The White Man (the mentality, not the color) with his supremacy will go to every length to ensure that it remains so- blah blah blah. Truth is, I have not been myself.  Or maybe I have just begun- but there comes a time when it becomes mentally intoxicating to immerse oneself into the pessimistic veracity of this System which binds us to the compelling truth that compassion is the greatest rebellion..of all.

AbdulHadi AlKhawaja has compassion for his people, which is why he trained them to be the revolutionaries they are. He did not teach them to be exceptional because I believe that Bahrainis have great courage and “9umood” in their blood, and their lion heartedness need not be taught.

That is why he was given a life sentencing in the oppressive jails of Bahrain. The System willed it. That is why he continued to resist, and has been on hunger strike for 59 days now. “Until freedom or martyrdom.”

I do not know if “too personally” is the correct term to describe how I have taken the death of Vittorio Arrigoni and Juliano Mer Khamis, two compassionate individuals who were murdered for their beating hearts. Could the same possibly be said for the way I dealt with John Lennon’s murder, which took place, what- 20+ years ago? And what about 28 year old engaged martyr Mustafa Tamimi, who was murdered in my presence by a tear gas canister shot to his face by an Israeli occupation force? And why do I cry and pain for Mina Daniel, a man whom I’ve never met but was murdered during the events of Maspero in Egypt? If the fact that somebody’s murder messes you up psychologically means that I have taken it “too personally”, then does that mean I am weak, or does that mean I have not yet learnt to properly cope with death, therefore not yet learnt to properly rebel the System?

I broke my hunger strike in solidarity with AbdulHadi AlKhawaja earlier today, after refraining from food and drink for 34 hours. I already know how far I am able to go- I was previously on separate hunger strikes in solidarity with Khader Adnan and Hana’ Shalabi for 72 and 70 hours. This time, I broke my strike in one of the many cafeterias in my university, as I realized the relation I felt towards the AlKhawaja family (maybe even, the empathy; stories of AlKhawaja’s gentle and kind nature told by his daughter Zeinab on Twitter unconsciously stirred up feelings of longing for my own father, my best friend, who has been denied entry to his home in Ramallah by Israeli occupation forces for more than 2 years now, ever since I was 15. He has been in a different type of jail.)

I thought to myself, AbdulHadi AlKhawaja is a father, a companion, a best friend, a leader- and only 51 years of age. My father is almost 50.

I broke my hunger strike because it has become increasingly difficult to do it for the right reason. It started as an act of solidarity, but I did not publicize it much as a message of solidarity is supposed to. I realized, standing there in the cafeteria, that too much affinity with the oppressed is mentally damaging.

Or maybe I’m just weak? 

The Manipulation of Israeli Occupation Soldiers- A Day in Nabi Saleh

“SABAYA!” Let’s continue the demonstration, let’s go around another way, via the hill.

Like flies attracted to honey, the thundering chants lead by Palestinian women lured many of the lingering foreign activists, some of which were first-timers, towards the hill leading to Nabi Saleh’s stolen spring, AlKaws. Around 10 Israeli activists were on their way to Nabi Saleh when they got into a horrid car accident; fortunately they survived with minor or no injuries. There was the usual faces of Palestinian participants not from Nabi Saleh (not a large number as usual but I wont be going there today). The village’s men and youth (shabab) were already dispersed along the village facing Israeli occupation forces, throwing rocks and hurling tear gas canisters back like some macabre game of football.

We chanted for Hana Shalabi and the destruction of Israeli occupation jails. We chanted for the freedom of Palestine, from the river to the sea. We chanted for Bassem Tamimi, who was kidnapped one year ago today from his home by Israeli occupation forces and given absurd charges based on the coerced confession of a 14 year old child. He has been in Ofer Military Center for a year now, a complete 365 days placed behind bars for defending his rights.

The demonstrations at Nabi Saleh have become somewhat of a routine. The village began its popular resistance on December 15th 2009 in protest of the theft of the village’s main water supply, AlKaws spring, by Jewish colonialists, following the annexation of the village land to build the illegal settlement of Hilamish in the year 1976.

Week after week, villagers, non-locallers and solidarity activists participate in unarmed demonstrations that commence from the village’s main center, close to where Mustafa Tamimi’s grave lies. Every Friday demonstration has a different theme in light of a different aspect of the occupation or the latest mishap resulting from it. The chants are always patriotic, non-factional and non-sexist, with men, women and children as young as 5 years old hollering and stomping their feet to their rhythm. The demonstration proceeds towards the main street, and is immediately attacked by the criminal soldiers, manned with heavy protective equipment, awaiting our seemingly threatening presence. Tear gas canisters and rubber coated steel bullets are fired, sometimes even live ammunition. Every week.

And every week the purpose of these demonstrations seems to thin out. A new statement must be made; we must at least attempt to reach the stolen spring of AlKaws to revive the essence of Nabi Saleh’s popular resistance. Today, we were going to reach the spring.

As our chants drawed the activists and villagers closer, we proceeded onto the hill leading to AlKaws spring. After much pleading and on-the-spot planning, a group of about 15 individuals decided to walk down the hill and to the spring.

Our strategy was literally planned spontaneously. We advanced lower and lower along the hill, and took short breaks between every descent. The breaks were to test the reactions of the Israeli occupation forces situated at the bottom of the hill; we had never attempted to do this before. We expected them to charge at us and round us up like goats, manhandling and handcuffing us, then throwing us in one of the nine military jeeps soon to arrive near the spring.

During our first break, and for the usual mind boggling reason I still have yet to come to terms with, our group casually picked tiny red edible flowers called imsesa3a, discussed tanning under the hot sun and the origins of the victory sign. The attendance of Israeli occupation forces who had just forwarded and stood a short distance of about five meters away clearly had no effect on us. They obviously had no idea what we were planning, and their hesitant presence was laughable. “Keep sitting, we’re not doing anything wrong,” Nariman Tamimi told us.

After sitting idly discussing every day things and gloating on how confused the criminal Israeli cowards were, we decided to get going once more. We continued to disembark down the hill, closer and closer to the spring. And more Israeli occupation forces advanced towards us, standing idly, lingering with their huge tear gas canister propelling guns. We stayed sitting, and they stayed watching us, expecting us to charge at them and have a worldly confrontation, then be off on our way like times before. But we didn’t; we had one goal today and one goal only: to reach alKaws spring.

As we sat on the grass, we saw a civilian car park behind a military jeep. A couple of settlers dismounted from it and walked towards the spring, with none of the Israeli occupation forces stopping them or so much as giving them a glance. A blatant example of how the colonialist, fascist, apartheid state of Israel expands its settlements of illegally confiscated Palestinian land and encourages non-indigenous colonialists to conquer what is already inhabited by granting them “God given rights”, all the while allowing them the utmost supremacy over any law passed and insuring them the utmost protection under a measly military of brainwashed teenage kids who must abide to their demands.

After our second break, we continued along our route to alKaws spring that was now a very short distance away. This time, we didn’t stop.

Nariman Tamimi held an empty water bottle high above her head, as if it were a Palestinian flag. “WATER, WATER, WATER, WATER, WATER, WATER, WATER!” she yelled.

“We’re going to get water from the spring.”

“It’s our spring; our land.”

“We’re not asking for permission.”

We had finally reached the street! AlKaws spring was a mere few feet away. Israeli occupation forces surrounded us on all sides, attempting to block our path. They pushed us roughly and turned to the foreigners, telling them in English, “Leave or I will stop you.” They mumbled orders to us in Hebrew, to which we responded “Speak Arabic. I do not speak Hebrew.”

The picture that followed reminded me of the scenes in white-washed American TV drama, when an entire city is about to explode unless a group of intellectual engineers manage to stop a non-existent nuclear bomb from going off. The Israeli occupation forces were running around like headless chicken and soon enough, at least 6 military jeeps seemed to come out of nowhere, unloading Mr Commander Border Police and more Israeli occupation forces. Lady Susana was there as well, and a female soldier always means one thing: arrest.

The frantic in which the fourth strongest military in the world responded with to 15 unarmed people was laughable. It was unbelievable to think that these overwrought criminals were the same “forces” that massacred Gaza, that deny my father permission from entering his own home, that kidnap children in the dead of night and charge them under military court, but it was the reality of the situation!

More orders (most likely of arrest) were shouted at us in Hebrew. Mr Commander screamed, “SHOLOSH DOCOT!” [three minutes or you all get arrested].

“Ya 3ammi I don’t speak Hebrew. Speak Arabic.”

One more military jeep was called. Upon spotting it, I heard someone say, “This is the jeep for arrest.” We were completely blocked from reaching the spring now, what with being vastly outnumbered by Israeli occupation forces, so we decided to sit on the ground in front of them. We held up the victory sign and looked them deep in the eyes. They stared back unblinkingly. After threats of arrests and getting repeatedly blocked from reaching the spring, we decided to retreat from the road, but not without accentuating the statement we were making.

thanks to comrade Scott for the photos

A couple more stand-offs with the Israeli occupation forces took place on our way back up. This time, Mr Commander thought that if he followed military regulations and actually declared the village of Nabi Saleh as a “closed military zone”, we would immediately retreat. But as we blatantly displayed, the entire state of Israel and its military regulations are unrecognizable.

Mr Commander brought an Israel occupation soldier, who was choking back the tear gas he was firing at shabab throwing rocks, and ordered him to read from a paper. The entire time any of these criminals spoke, our magnified voices would shrill out “ARABIC ARABIC ARABIC, SPEAK ARABIC!”

As the Israeli occupation soldier started to read from his paper that declared Nabi Saleh a closed military zone, he stumbled on his words and said [in Arabic] “This is a closed Arabic zone.”

You could only imagine our gleeful shrieks then.

Here is the full video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f5tTN_CG03I&feature=youtu.be

After making our way back up the hill, the thought of how easily programmed these soldiers are kept running through my mind. Fresh out of high school, they are enlisted in military service and taught one thing: they are the enemy, and we are the righteous. Without acting on orders to kill, the criminal Israeli military is at a complete loss of how to behave in the face of “they”. The amateurishness of the world’s 4th strongest army is a reflection of the state they are supposedly representing, one which acts without thought and out of complete impunity. With all of its US funded weapons, it seems Israel should invest in mind sharpening tools if it looks to keep the protection of the State of Israel its main priority.

And nobody tell me that the Israeli military felt befuddled in the face of 15 unarmed protesters because we didn’t have weapons up our sleeves. Every Palestinian, armed or not, is a threat to “Israel”.

As a last thought, Israeli refuseniks like comrade Noam Gur in the new wave of Israelis refusing mandatory military service show a tiny glimmer of hope; young Israelis are keen to hold onto their brains and absolutely reject to be molded into inept killing machines in the name of “secughity”.