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. 

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. 

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.

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.

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.

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? 

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”.

I honestly don’t think it’s sexism anymore. It simply can’t be that there aren’t any people in the street demanding you justice because you’re a woman. It goes much deeper than that and asking your forgiveness is humiliating.

There aren’t many people that know who you are because there are many people who choose to brush off the reality of the occupation smothering us. You probably laugh at their naiveness, or maybe you cry once you realize how hopeless they feel. Then maybe you feel enraged, thinking of your mother who lost a son for the sake of Palestine, enraged in wondering why everybody else is not like your mother; Empowered. Steadfast. Faithful.

Im sorry they choose to ignore your empty stomach growl like a lioness. They hear it, Hana, wallahi they do. But they ask themselves, “What can we do?” and go about their everyday activities. Shopping. KFC for dinner. No politics at the dinner table, wash your hands with Sheva and stop dreaming.

Leadership, the say. Leadership failed us, so why keep trying? They’re stronger than us. Yaffa is a dream, they say.

Enraged, your empty stomach growls, Leadership! What movement is there to lead?! The national goal of fighting for liberation is lead by all of us! Leaders are you and I, they are Salam who kicks tear gas canisters like they’re footballs, they are the child in Gaza who studies under the light of a candle due to ongoing power cuts, they are the grandparents who pass the Return keys to their grandchildren in the dire refugee camps before slipping into the darkness of death, they are Palestinian women in national dress who sell their gold so their husbands can afford rifles, they are Fares with his rock in the face of a bulletproof military jeep, they are the thousands of families separated by apartheid policies controlling, up until the most minute aspects of their lives due to the color of their skin, they are Ikhlas who prays at her murdered son’s grave on Fridays, they are the farmer wiping sweat off his brow with his kuffiyeh as he replants his uprooted olive trees after the white skinned colonialists raped his land, they are the Sammouni family, they are the women in the front line at demonstrations chanting against sexism, they are Ayyoub who must’ve had a rocket in his backpack as he was on his way to school, why else would he have been targeted as a militant by a very moral army- as long as there is a movement and a struggle, WE lead. You say.

They hear you but they choose to ignore you. They choose to live undignified, then they wonder why this occupation seems endless. They find a sick type of comfort in complacency and they choose to live under an illusion, the joke of reaching peace. They choose to ignore the oppression they’ve been undergoing for the past generations- something very shrewd and bold, and are forced into a life of slavery. They choose to close their eyes and shut their ears when the Israeli military arrests their neighbor’s child.

“He’s not my child,” they say. Neglecting that he is Palestine’s child, as we all are. Our mother years for us but we choose to ignore her. But your didn’t. That’s why you’re suffering.

Hana Shalabi, a 29 year old woman from Burqin, Palestine, previously spent 2 and a half years under the British colonialist policy of administrative detention, or indefinite detention without a charge or trial, in Israeli occupation jails. She was released as part of the prisoner swap of 2011, but was re-arrested in February 16th 2012 and was administered another indefinite detention sentencing of six months which can be renewed. Hana chose to start a hunger strike in protest of her unjust imprisonment the day she was re-arrested. As of 9 pm Palestine time March 19th 2012, Hana Shalabi has been transferred to M’er hospital in occupied Kufr Saba and faces imminent death. Hana Shalabi’s family issued a message to Palestinians, urging them to go down to the streets and fight in honor and solidarity with their daughter and sister on February 17th.. less than 20 people showed. 

Updated March 21st 2012

According to Addameer Prisoner Support and Human Rights Association, which has been vital in providing up to date information on cases such as the hunger strike of Khader Adnan and Hana’ Shalabi, the latter was not admitted into M’er Hospital. Instead, she was transferred from M’er Hospital to the Israeli Prison Service medical centre in Ramleh Hospital. Hana’ Shalabi cannot stand on her two feet due to her deteriorating health condition from her ongoing hunger strike and too much transfer and movement may increase the damage on her already failing health. As is their custom, the Zionist occupying forces are showing absolutely no regard to human life.

Why? Why must Palestinians undergo such pain in order to make a difference in this world? Why must Hana’s mother and father wake up dreading a phone call from the Israeli Prison Service (if they were to be so generous as to make one) in case Hana’s health completely deteriorates? Why must freedom, a basic human right, be so hard to obtain? Why must we go on our leisurely ordeals while Hana Shalabi starves for us to remain, dies for us to live?

The following is a message from the family of Hana Shalabi, calling for nothing short of action and solidarity in honor of their heroic daughter who is suffering immensely for the sake of the freedom of Palestine from Zionist occupation, which will only be obtained through resistance.

Show your full support and chant Hana Shalabi’s name in the face of Israeli occupation jail Ofer on Saturday, March 17th 2012. Sons and daughters of Palestine, our mother Palestine is calling.

Now we come to Women’s Day. Whenever I hear someone talking about this day, I immediately jump to my defence: One day a year to appreciate women??? One day??? Or is it just used as a pretext to sleep in and not go to work or school that day?

Many women, however, take pride that one day a year is dedicated solely to them, but personally, I thought that his further stimulates my basis for rejecting the idea of this day. Turns out I was a victim of the mutilated definition of Women’s Day.

And so I decided to conduct some research.

“In different regions the focus of the celebrations ranges from general celebration of respect, appreciation and love towards women to a celebration for women’s economic, political and social achievements.”

Understandable, seeing as women are viewed on a global scale as “the weaker sex”. Also explains why there isn’t a Men’s Day.

“In many regions, the day lost its political flavour, and became simply an occasion for men to express their love for women in a way somewhat similar to a mixture of Mother’s Day and St Valentine’s Day.”

Mhm.

“In other regions, however, the original political and human rights theme designated by the United Nations runs strong, and political and social awareness of the struggles of women worldwide are brought out and examined in a hopeful manner.”

“Delegates (100 women from 17 countries) agreed with the idea [of dedicating a day for women worldwide] as a strategy to promote equal rights for women.”

This is the true definition of why one day a year is dedicated to women, and this could be the basis of the feeling of pride in this day: to highlight her struggles, be it political or social.

Women’s day, which was first observed in 1909, was not considered a holiday up until 1965. Following the October Revolution (Red October), Russian Communist revolutionary and first female government minister in Europe Alexandra Kollontai persuaded the leader of the revolution, Lenin, to make it an official holiday in the Soviet Union. 

And so it was because communists deciced it to be so, Women’s Day became an international holiday.

But on Women’s Day, we do not celebrate or mourn. On Women’s Day, we struggle, as every day.

In Palestine, women have always been a key part of national resistance. The role they played and continue to play is a heroic and inspirational one, in which they defy patriarchal society demeanors in their struggle for liberation and social equality, their actions carried on proudly by Palestinian women several generations later.

During the Arab Revolt of the 1930’s in which Palestinians revolted against increasing British rule and Zionist settler colonialism, Palestinian women launched their involvement in political activism; thus the Palestinian women movement was formed.

The first Intifada that erupted in 1987 has a very feminist side to it. While Palestinian men were engaged with throwing rocks at the occupiers, Palestinian women were very active in the social side of the Intifada. (Needless to say, we threw rocks as well, but not on the bigger scale.) 

The social life of the Intifada is a side that flourished with feminism. The streets were flooded with men and youth throwing rocks but Palestinian women played a major role in advocating for the boycott of Israeli goods, bringing to light the Palestinian alternatives for these goods.

Since the fascist state of Israeli views the oppressed people acquiring an education as a threat, schools were closed for months at a time during the Intifadas. And so our heroic women took this case into their own hands by opening up underground schools, available to the entire community.

The first intifada was the fundaments for social equality, as everybody was affected by it. When a child was to be arrested by the Israeli army, Palestinian women took to the streets, demanding that the child was theirs. Imagine how vulnerable Israeli soldiers would feel when dozens of Palestinian women came at them screaming, “WALAK SEEB IBNI!!”

During the second Intifada, however, the political activism of Palestinian women shrunk immensely. This is mainly due to the dreaded Oslo accords, which promised the hope of a Palestinian state. This trick fell right into the hands of NGO interest, which are dominated by a liberal prototype. Thus, NGOs, which in general cannot include national liberation in their policies, advocate for women’s rights and equality, which caused a shift from the bond that Palestinian women and men had in national resistance.

In present times, Palestinian women are still struggling for their voices to be heard on a social and political platform.

Many times during protests, men have said to me, scornfully, “Lower your voice” as I chanted. My friend Ebaa was verbally harassed by passers-by as she stood on a street with a poster calling for Khader Adnan’s release. And of course, not all of the villages participating in popular struggle have women taking part in them (yet!), and so I am always glad when comrades and I take to these villages in an attempt to convince women to defy patriarchy and remember the bond Palestinian men and women have always had in national resistance. On a personal note, the village of Nabi Saleh has got to be the epitome of genuine Palestinian resistance, with both men and women participating, demanding their rights, their voices magnified by the strength and completion they give to one another in the quest for liberation.

Ladies, don’t sleep in on your holiday or wait for a flower and maybe some chocolate on this day, for Women’s Day is not a cause for celebration (unless to celebrate her social and political achievements, by highlighting the greater struggle).

My utmost appreciation is granted to the Palestinian women who revive the true definition of Women’s Day, who are always on the front lines at demonstrations in the struggle for national liberation, who break the immoral stereotype that Western propaganda makes of Arab women, simultaneously defying the patriarchal character that Palestinian society has been mainly characterized with, in their struggle for social equality. It is worth mentioning that Palestinian women make up one half of the national struggle, as resistance is not complete unless both Palestine’s children, men and women, fight together.

The Israeli army knows this very well, so reassure yourself that the fascist state of Israel is not a sexist one when dealing with Palestinians!

I think I can speak for women worldwide when I say, as long as there is a struggle, every day is Women’s Day!