Palestine Report

Experiences in the Holy Land
Working for Peace in the midst of Conflict

July – August 2008

Introduction:

This, my third visit to Israel and Palestine, was undertaken in July – August 2008 with an organisation called the Holy Land Trust, based in Bethlehem. Together with its partner organisation the Middle East Foundation, based in the US, the Trust “works at developing non-violent resistance approaches to ending the Israeli occupation in order to build an independent Palestine that is founded on principles of non-violence, democracy, respect for human rights and a peaceful means of resolving conflicts.” Since 2004 the Holy Land Trust has organised a summer volunteering programme called the Palestine Summer Encounter, which enables volunteers to work on one to three-month placements whilst staying with local families and learning some Arabic. They offer the opportunity to learn more about the situation in Israel-Palestine by meeting with peace groups from both sides, to show solidarity by living alongside those who are suffering from the situation and contributing skills, and to gain a richer view of everyday life by experiencing family life and culture at first-hand. The experiences recounted in this report spring from direct encounters with people and situations which happened during a month spent as a participant on the Summer Encounter programme.

Although I had visited the region twice before – in 2005 and 2007, there were many things drawing me back: the sheer injustice of the situation, the dignity and generosity of the Palestinian people, the bravery of my Israeli friends in the peace movement, and the ever-present, gnawing feeling that there must be something that individuals can do to help whilst the world ignores the reality of the problem or fiddles around at the edges. There is also the conviction that this conflict is at the crux of so many other conflict situations across the world. More specifically I hoped to:

• Gain a more in-depth understanding of everyday life by living with a Palestinian family;
• Do something practical to help by volunteering with an organisation;
• Renew contacts with member of peace groups on both sides, and make new ones;
• Increase my own understanding of the situation by visiting some new areas and organisations;
• Learn some Arabic so as to better communicate with people; and
• Return with eye-witness accounts about the reality of the situation to raise awareness, and ideas for specific projects which people can support.

Although this was not an official visit, I also unofficially undertook this visit as a member of Women to Women for Peace. This small, UK-based, grassroots organisation aims to build bridges of understanding and peace between people in situations where distorted prejudices and stereotypes lead to mistrust, hatred and open conflict. I can think of no situation in the world where bridge-building is more necessary than in Israel-Palestine.

The Contents and Format of this Report:

One of the main aims of this visit was advocacy – to be able to return and tell others about the realities I had witnessed. To this end many hours were spent in internet cafés in Bethlehem and Beit Sahour, committing experiences to e-mails whilst they were still fresh in the mind. This resulted in a day-by-day account which was vivid, but not necessarily very organised. Many passages in this report are extracts from those e-mails, grouped together thematically and with linking passages. I have striven to retain something of the immediacy of the original, whilst giving the report more shape and coherence.

Historical Background:

This synopsis is provided courtesy of Arthur and Irene Allen, taken from their short report “A Week in Palestine”, produced in October 2005.

“At the beginning of the 20th Century, Palestine, then part of the Turkish (Ottoman) empire, was inhabited by some 600,000 Arabs and 60,000 Jews. By the end of the First World War the area was under the control of the British. In response to a growing Zionist movement in Europe, the British Government issued the ‘Balfour Declaration’ promising a homeland to the Jews but without taking into account that the large majority of the inhabitants were Arabs. Under British rule many Jews emigrated to Palestine and became an effective political and military force in the area, pressing their claim for a Jewish state. As the reality of the Holocaust became known at the end of the Second World War, international opinion supported the creation of the state of Israel. The indigenous Arabs were less enthusiastic about the idea that their land should be sacrificed to atone for the crimes of others.

Unable to control the growing tension, the British handed control of the area over to the United Nations who proposed to allocate part of the territory to the new state of Israel. Fighting broke out between armed Zionist and Arab guerrilla groups and the armies of neighbouring Arab states invaded but were defeated. A hundred villagers were massacred by Zionist militia at Deir Yassin in 1948 and many Palestinians were forced out of their villages and towns. 750,000 Palestinians became refugees.

In 1967 war broke out between Israel and its neighbours. The West Bank and the Gaza strip were occupied and the State of Israel ended up in possession of 78% of historic Palestine. Conditions for the local population deteriorated and after twenty years, there was a massive uprising, the first ‘Intifada’. Youngsters took to the streets to hurl stones at Israeli tanks. The Israeli reaction was brutal. 1,124 Palestinians and 90 Israelis were killed before the Oslo peace process started. Oslo offered hope to the Palestinians but little else. In the lands occupied in 1967, the Israelis intensified the building of massive settlements, from which Palestinians are excluded. A second ‘Intifada’ in 2000 and another round of peace talks changed little for the better. The growing settlements, a vast network of settler-only roads and “security” fences continue to gobble up Palestinian land and the conditions of the Palestinian people remain very poor. Even as 8,000 settlers were withdrawn from their indefensible positions in Gaza, another 14,000 settled illegally in the West Bank.”

Overall Impressions:

Reflecting on the visit, the thing that stands out above all others is the generosity and dignity of the Palestinian people we came in contact with. This will shine through many of the extracts below.

Although if was just over a year since my last visit, the stark realities of the situation impressed themselves upon me even more vividly this time. What we witnessed is nothing short of racism: two societies living alongside one another where one population is allowed to go wherever it pleases, with access to land, housing and employment, whilst the other is penned into ever diminishing fragments of land, denied access to roads and employment, harassed and dehumanised at checkpoints. This was reflected in miniature by the treatment we received as volunteers on entry into Israel. Entry for those like myself, who are white and with inoffensive European names encountered no problems. Others who looked vaguely Arabic or Muslim, or who had Arabic-sounding names had varying degrees of difficulty. The most ironic example was an American member of the group who works for the Department of Homeland Security, but who happens to have Algerian parentage. She was held and questioned for several hours at Ben Gurion airport, with the Israeli officials refusing to believe she was American – despite her US passport! This is a society riddled with fear, whose brash, modern, Westernised existence is defined by the denial and exclusion of the Other.

On a visit to an Israeli settlement on the outskirts of Jerusalem, a participant in our group remarked that these shouldn’t be called settlements at all, but colonies. All settlements on the West Bank are illegal in terms of international law and being built on Palestinian land within the internationally-recognised “Green Line”. This particular settlement was beautifully laid out: neat, well-maintained houses, areas for recycling rubbish and sprinklers keeping gardens fresh in a month where the sun had been unrelenting and we hadn’t seen a drop of rain. This followed a visit to East Jerusalem where we had seen a new development – Nof Zion – being built with US money on Palestinian land as part of an overall plan to change the demographics of this part of the city so that the population is predominantly Jewish. We then drove through a Palestinian village in East Jerusalem where the roads were in disrepair, the pavements non-existent and every house had a water tank on its roof to preserve this precious commodity. Every member of this village pays the same taxes as those in the settler communities, but the discrepancy in services is evident for all to see.

This colonial land-grab can be witnessed all over the West Bank, sometimes in settlements which the Israeli authorities themselves regard as illegal – but which are nevertheless allowed to remain. Armed settlers set up a string of caravans in uncharted areas – and then need “protection” from the military to keep them safe from the local inhabitants. The area surrounding the caravans thus becomes a security zone, which Palestinians are unable to enter, even if they have crops or property there. The caravans then become houses – a new settlement is born, and another bit of Palestinian land is whittled away. Imagine groups of an ancient tribe taking over areas of the UK, hoisting their flag, painting racist slogans, developing colonies – and this being condoned by the UK government whilst the international community turns a blind eye. This, however, is what is happening all over the West Bank.

The other main impression I came away with is that of increasing fragmentation. The West Bank or occupied Palestinian territories are increasingly criss-crossed by settlements, the Separation Wall, checkpoints and a series of settler-only roads. This is effectively carving up the land that is left to the Palestinians into smaller and smaller fragments or enclaves which are physically and psychologically isolated from one another. Bethlehem itself is such an enclave – now almost totally surrounded by the Wall. Because of the difficulty of getting from place to place and the lack of employment opportunities outside the local area people are increasingly thrown back on their own resources. This leads to a close community, where everyone knows everyone else, but can also result in lack of information and distrust of what is happening elsewhere. The family I stayed with told me to be careful when going to Ramallah, and informed me that people in Hebron are very well-off. I didn’t get the opportunity to go to Nablus or Jenin this time – but heaven knows what they would have said about us going there! In an environment where everyone is suffering there is almost an element of competition as to who is the worst off. Some of this is in good humour, of course, akin to jokes about Cardiganshire people being mean. At the same time, however, there is a lack of cohesion in this potential State which is worrying. One wonders whether the old policy of divide and rule is really working.

These maps show how Palestinian land has been whittled away between 1946 and the present day, having a series of enclaves or Bantustans, criss-crossed by roads, settlements and check points. A potential State? This seems increasingly unlikely.

Hope, despair and solutions:

The Palestinians certainly know how to enjoy themselves. Celebrations are very public affairs, and spill out onto the streets, as I witnessed on my first day:

“Yesterday was the day when young people here get their results for what must be the equivalent of "A" levels / Baccalaureate. The traditional way of celebrating seemed to be for them to drive quite fast along the main street, repeatedly blowing the horn, with occupants crammed in and hanging out of car windows waving scarves, and cheering. The infectious energy of youth filled the air, making everyone smile. One member of staff from the Holy Land Trust said wryly that "people here really need something to celebrate."

You can understand why. The wall now feels like a permanent fixture, and we have already heard people talking about being in an "open prison". One wonders how many of those youths celebrating their results will actually be able to study what they want in university - or then to find a job. The oldest daughter in my family had the ambition to be a pilot, but says that this is impossible for her as an Arab. She went to Bethlehem University to study Sociology, because her parents were too nervous to let her go to Nablus or Jenin where there are a lot more Israeli incursions. She is now looking for work, and thinks she will teach small children. Not quite the same as being an airline pilot!”

There was, therefore, a defiant, almost frenetic side to celebrations. Restricted as far as movement, employment and personal ambitions are concerned, penned in in their own communities, the Palestinians can yet confirm their dignity and humanity by celebrating what is most dear to them – family and community life.

It was also the wedding season during our stay. Weddings in the Palestinian community are spectacular, starting with a public cavalcade of cars, sounding horns and driving slowly along the main street, the bonnet of the bride’s car adorned with beautiful flower arrangements. Celebrations go on long into the night, accompanied by loud music, dancing and fireworks. Most participants in the Summer Encounter were invited to at least one wedding celebration. The following is an account of a Christian wedding:

“On Tuesday evening we were all invited to a family wedding. The event started late afternoon with a service in the Latin Church, where the family worship. Even this was a family affair. Not only the couple but the two families stood at the altar. The service itself was quite short, punctuated by children running about and playing with the church pews. At one point the priest laid golden crowns on the heads of the bride and groom and then swapped them around. A large golden Bible was also placed between them. After the service the bride, groom and family members stood in a large circle, and everyone else in the congregation went round shaking hands with each one and saying 'mabrouk' (congratulations).

Going to a wedding is an excuse to look good. The bride herself was radiant in white with a tight-fitting bodice, and very full net skirt. There were plenty of revealing dresses, painted nails and glittering hair. The mother and daughter in our family spent much time choosing their outfits and making themselves glamorous.

The next part of the wedding took place in the house of the groom’s family. The larger family gathered to greet the newly-weds, and - on arrival - they were greeting with drums, singing and clapping. Everything seems to happen at full volume.

Then there was the wedding party. This was described by our host's daughter as 'small', but there must have been a couple of hundred people there. The main feature of the evening was the dancing. Although the steps were fairly similar to the sort of dancing we might do at a wedding party, both the Arabic men and women are so much more expressive when they dance - arms aloft, wrists twirling, hips swinging, shoulders shrugging. It was an amazing experience to be in the midst of.

Towards the end of the proceedings the bride moved to the back of the hall, accompanied by all the women. Everyone was given a candle, and we processed back into the hall, our candles alight. The groom was then carried in on the shoulders of some of the men, swirling a sword above his head. The bride, too, was lifted up on a couple of chairs and carried aloft. Meanwhile the music, clapping and dancing continued. It was still in full swing when we left, long after midnight.”

This love of celebration and dancing seemed to be common to both Christian and Muslim communities, and when there was a wedding celebration, the whole neighbourhood joined in. We witnessed some Muslim wedding celebrations on our visit to Halhul, North of Hebron. The main difference here was that, the night before the wedding, the men and the women celebrate separately. We briefly visited the bride’s celebrations. The bride sat in resplendent colours at the far end of an upstairs hall, like a queen presiding over her friends’ dancing. As we entered we were drawn in and encouraged to join the dance. We must have stood out a mile as Westerners, but no-one batted an eyelid, and we were swept up into the celebration. As foreigners, we were also allowed to sit downstairs with some of the men of the family and enjoy an Arabic coffee and a chat. As we proceeded home, we passed a men-only party down the road, including a make-shift stage for dancing, floodlights and loud music. We were told that one thing Hammas has done in Gaza is to pay for hundreds of weddings. You could see how this would be a popular policy.

Again and again we were moved by the hospitality, generosity and resilience of the Palestinians. Their ability to carry on their lives with humanity and dignity is one of the main ways they resist the occupation. Dehumanised at check-points, they can display humanity in their families and communities. Barred from travelling on certain roads, they will find their way round on others. Above all, the Israelis can’t take away from them their rich community life, their culture and traditions. And so they continue, seemingly laughing in the face of adversity. Majdi, keeper of a “Beduin Store” on Manger Street is just such an example. We were invited into his store, then treated to Arabic coffee and home-spun jokes. Here are a few of them:

1. The Israelis very kindly built the wall to protect the Palestinians from the Tsunami;
2. They put netting on the top of the wall so that birds could not fly over and infect the Palestinians with bird-flu;
3. The politicians have promised peace but delivered pieces.

You get the gist. One greatly admires a people who can suffer such injustice and still joke about it. Majdi is also a good example of that generosity so typical of the Palestinian people. A couple of weeks after our encounter in his shop, I was passing a café late-ish in the evening where he was chatting with some friends. He rushed out, calling me by name. Was I okay? Did I need a lift? I declined, as I was on my way home, but was deeply moved by his action. A Western tourist - he could so easily just have let me walk by.

So what of a solution to the ongoing occupation and conflict? One-state solutions, two-state solutions, no solution – these scenarios were all discussed during our visit. The extract below reflects some of the views we heard:

“Some of us had a discussion with Rami at the Holy Land Trust about the way he sees the situation. He doubts whether either government really wants peace at the moment and doesn't feel that a one-State solution would be possible. He also feels that Palestinians have been let down by the Palestinian Authorities and that a lot of money has been wasted. The steps to peace, he says, are really quite simple, providing the political will is there. He describes these as 4-fold: secure borders, agreement about the status of Jerusalem and the settlements, and the right to return for the refugees. The only part of this equation which he sees as impossible as the last one - frankly stating that he cannot see how the refugees would realistically be able to return.

Other people we talk to have different points of view. Ziad, whom we talked to in Deheishe Refugee Camp thinks that ultimately there will be a one-state solution - but that this will have to be a State based on human and civil rights and with equality for both Israelis and Palestinians. This would also mean a State where everyone could worship freely, whatever their religion. This would, of course, mean giving up the dream of a majority Jewish State and this - for some at least - is the crux of the problem. Ziad also states that he is glad of the Wall, because it is drawing people's attention to the less visible walls and barriers that they have lived with for years. He strongly believes that - ultimately - the Wall will come down, and asked what the basis of this belief is, points to the energy of the young people in the camp as well as to the importance of international solidarity. Not charity, he stresses, they don't need that - but they definitely need solidarity, in the same way that international solidarity eventually helped to bring down the apartheid system. The message was not unexpected, but sent many of us away vowing to do more to put pressure on our governments.”

As someone who has visited the area three times over the last three years, I find it increasingly difficult to see how Palestine is now viable as an independent state. Imagine a UK where London is separated from Birmingham, Birmingham from Manchester – and then trying to run an efficient economy, as well as coherent political and civil institutions. Ultimately, only a One-state solution makes sense – but how can that be achieved given the layers of injustice, prejudice and hatred which exist – not to mention some very violent Israeli settlers and a small percentage of extremists on both sides. For me, hope lies in the ordinary and extraordinary people I have met during my visits who – amazingly – don’t bear any grudge against the Israelis (apart from when the water supply runs dry or they are forced to take circuitous routes to get to somewhere they could reach in half the time). Their main aim is to be able to live out their lives in peace and dignity – and to be allowed to have some ambitions and dreams: education for their children in a university of their choice; the opportunity to pursue a chosen career; the ability to travel to foreign destinations.

Hope also lies in organisations such as the Holy Land Trust, who are aiming to promote the values and practice of peaceful non-violent resistance. The walls of their little office in Bethlehem are covered with pictures and quotes from figures such as Gandhi and Martin Luther King. Even there, however, in this bastion of hope, another – darker – picture was painted for us. Giving us his personal opinion on the situation, Rami stated that a lot of Palestinians secretly believe that - in the end - Israel will get what it wants and take over all the land. When you look at the shrinking Palestinian territories on maps, (see page 4 above) you can't help but agree with him: 1948, 1967, 2008 - this 'potential state' is getting whittled away and now looks more and more like slowly crumbling pieces of Gruyere cheese, riddled with checkpoints, settlements and roads. A lot of Palestinians are tired with the ongoing struggle and feel that the cards are stacked against them, given that their neighbour is the fourth richest country in the world, with US backing, a strong army and nuclear weapons.

In the meantime, they get on with their lives with dignity, humanity and humour.

Family Life and Relationships:

One of the distinguishing aspects of the Palestine Summer Encounter is the fact that the participants stay with local families. This affords a unique opportunity to forge a more lasting relationship with a particular family, and to gain a deeper insight into the way people live. Having said that, it was obvious that the families were carefully selected. All host families were Christian and tended to be better-off.

My first host family live in Beit Sahour (Shepherds’ Fields). The father works for the Palestinian authorities in Ramallah and the mother is a seamstress. Apart from the parents, the family consists of three daughters and a son aged between 17 and 24. Their house is large and spacious, and there seems to be no problem with water or electricity, although we have been warned to be economical in our use of both. There is a saying in Arabic “ilbeet beetak” – “the house is yours” – and I was certainly urged to feel at home, being plied with food and drink at every turn. Evenings were generally spent at home in front of the TV, the highlight of which was the Turkish soap opera “Noor”, for which everything stopped each night for a whole hour. Even when we went out one evening to the newly-opened park on the other side of the village, a huge screen had been erected in the café so that people didn’t miss a single episode of their beloved “Noor”!

There were definite rules about what was okay and what we not in the family in terms of roles and behaviour. This was illustrated on the Feast of St Elijah. On this date every Palestinian Christian was in theory given permission by the Israeli authorities to go to Jerusalem to pray. In reality it depended who you were. In my family neither the father nor the son received permission: the father, because he works for the Palestinian Authority and the son – presumably - because he came into the category of Palestinian males under a certain age, and therefore could constitute “a threat”. The result was that no-one from the family went. The youngest daughter (17) was very disappointed, because all her school friends were going. This is symptomatic of the way the father ruled the household. He was very charming and kind, but one felt that it wasn’t the done thing to cross him. In the same way, it was okay for the daughters to go to the local park in the evening, but only if accompanied by their brother. Inevitably, this caused some friction and resentment. The 17-year old, in particular, was hoping to get engaged, and one wondered to what extent this was a way of escaping the father’s all-pervasive influence.

We were reminded by the staff of the Holy Land Trust when we arrived that Palestinian society is ruled by honour and shame, and that if any of the younger female participants were “pestered” by a local Palestinian, they should go into the nearest shop and point out to the shopkeeper who it was. In a society where everyone knows everyone else, such behaviour doesn’t remain a secret for long, and is publicly frowned upon.

There is a very strict culture about relationships between the sexes. Any kind of sexual relationship before marriage would be completely taboo, so it must be difficult for young people to have a trial period and to know whether they are suited to their future partners. The TV programmes watched by the girls in our family (17, 19 and 24) fell largely into two categories: quite sexualised (though not explicit) video clips of songs where the woman is portrayed as temptress and the man as helpless captive; or else the soap opera 'Noor', which perpetuates the idea of the perfect partner and romantic love being the be-all and end-all! I don't know about being captive - but it was definitely the women who did all the housework in my host's family!

The house of my first host family is situated in the Palestinian village of Beit Sahour – a settlement that dates back to Biblical times. Israeli settlements are never far away, however. Bethlehem is surrounded by them. There are some features which distinguish settlements from Palestinian villages. All Palestinian houses have water tanks on their roofs to preserve this precious commodity. Houses in the settlements tend to be quite uniform in character and to dominate the hilltops, whereas the Palestinian homes are more scattered. Settlements and villages are separated by settler-only roads, walls and fences. The noise of continuous building work in the settlement echoes across the valley.

The following passage gives a sense of the close juxtaposition of villages and settlements:

“At night my room-mate Paula and I have a choice - either shut our bedroom door so as not to be disturbed by the early-morning light or open the door to let some more air in. Despite the electric fan and an open window, it is still stifling, so we often opt for the latter. As my bed faces the door, I fall asleep looking out towards an Israeli settlement which dominates the hillside opposite. Its many lights fill the horizon, in contrast to the more sparsely lit streets on this side of the valley.

I wake early in the morning and go out onto the roof to watch the sun rise. This side of the valley cocks are crowing, answering one another in the early morning light. Some sheep scramble their way to the bottom of the valley. A neighbour comes out to check whether her washing has dried. The leaves of the fig tree outside her house rustle in the breeze. A peaceful scene. Only the houses of the settlement on the other side of the valley remind me of the ongoing conflict over this "holy" land. For a moment they look like soldiers - threatening, on the march. The sun catches on some of their windows and lights them up. I wonder how our village looks to their inhabitants. A nuisance? A threat?

I suddenly feel cold, and return to bed to snuggle under the quilt until the alarm rings.”

After two weeks I moved house to live with my friends, Ibrahim and Nisreen. “Why didn’t you come to stay with us?” they questioned when I went to visit them; “you have family here.” I also felt that this family needed my contributions more than the first host family did. When we first met Ibrahim in 2005 he was a taxi driver, and although his present job with the Bethlehem Souvenir Centre is much more stable, with five relatively small children, the family is still struggling. Nisreen earns extra money for the family by doing embroidery work – tiny traditional cross-stitch patterns adorning spectacle cases, purses and cushion covers. Their children go to Catholic school, and by the time I was leaving they were starting to worry about how they were going to pay for the text books. One morning Ibrahim was up very early and had been up on the roof, trying to remedy a water shortage. Existence for this growing family seems quite precarious, and one is aware of the pressures they are under just to lead a “normal” life.

The family now lives in a top flat on a busy main street running parallel to Manger Street and near the cross-roads leading from Bethlehem University to Beit Jala. Nisreen’s creative hand is everywhere to be seen – in embroidered wall-hangings and cushions – turning their little flat into a home. In the early mornings I’m awoken by the call to prayer, and then by the traffic speeding past, quite apart from the early-morning sun shining through the thin curtains. The house is next to a restaurant, and on the days we manage to have breakfast together, Nisreen sends down for fresh houmus and falafels. In the night stray dogs scuffle over discarded morsels.

With so many children, there is very little privacy. The children are allowed to stay up very late, and there is a considerable amount of what feels like arguing in sometimes quite loud voices. We were warned that this happens quite a lot in Palestinian families, and that it isn’t necessarily very significant – just a custom. At the same time, the family is very loving and close. The household tends to be ruled by the 3year old, who is quite a character, and throws things around if he doesn’t get his own way!

Some participants in the Palestine Summer Encounter expressed regret that we hadn’t been able to stay with Muslim families in order to gain more insight into their way of life. I was lucky enough to stay with one Muslim family during our visit. This was as a result of renewing contact with Ahmed, one of the waiters at the Paradise Hotel during our first stay in 2005, whom we later found out to be also a science teacher in Hebron, who commuted back and forth to Bethlehem to boost his income. In February 2007 we visited his school with Elaine’s group and saw his drama group perform a play written by him about Goldstein’s 1994 massacre in the Ibrahimi Mosque in Hebron.

Our stay with Ahmed’s family was so memorable that it’s worth recounting in full. I called this account “On the other side of the barrier”, because it illustrates what sort of families are being portrayed by the Israeli settlers as a threat:

“Haidee and I drove with Ahmed and another waiter friend to Halhul, his village on the outskirts of Hebron. A beautiful and fruitful landscape, characterised by row upon row of vines and fruit trees.

On arrival we were introduced to Ahmed's family. His father was educated during the British Mandate, and taught English for years. He can still recite verses of Shakespeare, Milton and Wordsworth by heart, and delighted in having an audience to be able to do so! He complained slightly that his hands were hurting because he had been peeling for us the fruit of a cactus tree growing in their garden. It was golden orange and sweet with large pips. Ahmed's mother apologised for her lack of English and laughed. We were also introduced to Ahmed's sister who teaches in the UN school for girls, and to nephews and nieces of various ages - all smiles at the sight of these unusual visitors. The children are delightful here - very natural and open, and very much part of the family.

Ahmed himself isn't married - obviously an exception and something that is remarked on by family and friends. He is constantly teased about his single status (he's 42) - but he just smiles and says that he's happy living on his own.

The school and the family are very much the centre of his life. He explains to us that he was quite a rebel when he was in school, and was shot twice by Israeli soldiers. He then went to India and did his medical studies. Our feeling is that he has now dedicated himself to a quieter form of resistance, by serving his community and in particular by working to provide a good education for the boys in his school. He and the Head-teacher talk about how important it is for education to be active and relevant to the boys, and also about the importance of extra-curricular activities. One room in Ahmed's flat is dedicated to dressing up costumes for the dramas he produces, and whilst we are there he calls into a second-hand shop where he picks up more - telly-tubby, spider-man and a penguin costume - cast-offs from Israeli schools. He will make up plays to fit these characters! He is also responsible for the Dabkah dancing team in the school.

In the school Ahmed proudly shows us some of the changes brought about with the help of foreign donations - a new science lab with up-to-date microscopes and other equipment, new computers .... We see the quality of the equipment the school receives through the Education Department (poor!), compared to the much higher quality instruments purchased with external help. There is more than a suggestion here of corruption - and that schools don't receive the resources they need. He explains to us the system they have devised to ensure that external donations reach the school. The money is presented to the municipality, earmarked for the school. This ensures that everything is recorded, open and accountable. The municipality is sometimes able to match-fund so that the school receives more. All transactions are decided upon and documented by a 25-person strong parents’ committee. Other money is raised by the community itself, part of this being in the form of "Zakat" (10% of income which Muslims give for the relief of the poor through the Mosque).

On our tour round the school Ahmed shares with us the projects he already has in mind for the future improvement of the school - a shelter outside so that the boys can play sport and practice drama in summer and winter, and a sports hall on the roof. They have already raised the money for the shelter and the foundations have been laid. The sports hall is as yet but a dream, but with Ahmed's vision and enthusiasm - and some outside help - we feel it will happen.

We are taken round to meet some of the staff of the school, and a good proportion of the parents' committee. The same ritual every time, we are welcomed and offered sweet mint tea or strong Arabic coffee - or else fizzy drinks and biscuits. Hospitality is very important here, and people open their homes to visitors. In the Headmaster's house we sit with his wife, who can't come through because there are male visitors. She is very smart - dressed in a golden suit with a large flower in her lapel - but when she takes us out to show us her garden she deftly puts on a loose outer garment and a head covering. The Headteacher has spent some time in prison because he is a local councillor for Hamas. After our visit in the evening the army bang on the door of his house at 1a.m., and ask him when he was last in prison. "Four months ago", he answers. "Okay," they say, "We're not going to arrest you this time, but just to let you know that we can do so whenever we want." They go away.

Ahmed explains to us that 95% of the community had voted for Hamas in the elections. They were fed up with corrupt government, and wanted a change. They also thought that they were taking part in a democratic process. Hamas also does much for the poor: Ahmed tells us that they have recently paid for 1,000 weddings in Gaza!

We return home for lunch - a delicious dish called "maklouba" (upside-down): chicken and cauliflower on a bed of rice with Arabic salad and yoghurt as accompaniments. Ahmed's father has been correcting some English translation for a friend - about the spraying of crops.

We leave this family with our hearts overflowing. These cultured, generous people who send us away laden with fresh grapes and plums from their fields and the warmth of their smiles and jokes - these people are the perpetrators of injustice, according to an extremist pamphlet that is handed to us at the Israeli information centre at the entrance to Hebron. ‘Maklouba’ - upside down.”

Volunteering:

All Palestine Summer Encounter participants undertook a voluntary placement with an organisation each morning. My placement was with the Student Forum, which is responsible for the Palestinian Youth Parliament. My main task was to help them to redraft their promotional pamphlet in English – also to translate it into other European languages, and to initiate contacts with Youth Parliaments in the UK and Europe. I also met some of the representatives from the Youth Parliament – very enthusiastic, intelligent and engaged young people.

On the first morning I was greeted by Nizar – an employee at the Forum – who was delighted by the fact that he could actually converse with me in French! I also worked with Ramzi, the Director, who was preparing to take a group of young people on an exchange trip to Ireland. One day the group came in and I had the job of helping them with their English for the visit. I quickly realized that these young people had no problem in communicating their everyday needs in English. What they wanted to do was to convey to their Irish counterparts what it feels like for them to be prisoners in their own community, surrounded by walls, humiliated at checkpoints, restricted as far as choice of universities and employment is concerned. I thought of the limited foreign language capabilities of their counterparts in the UK, and was ashamed.

The main aim of the Student Forum is to enable young Palestinians to have a democractic voice, and to help them gain the confidence, knowledge and skills to play a role in the political and civil life of their society. This aim isn’t without its challenges, as the passage below indicates:

“The Student Forum is partly funded by an NGO called Norwegian People's Aid. Today Ramzi, the Director had received an e-mail from them, expressing regret at the closing down of some NGO's in Gaza and asking for information about how the Forum's work had been affected on the West Bank. In his reply, Ramzi explains how the work of their organisation is being made difficult - mostly by interference on behalf of Fateh security forces, who pay them visits requesting information, "observe" student elections, and aim to get Fateh representatives elected at the local level. Students who belong to Hammas don't now take part in political or social activities for fear of reprisals, so that the Forum is no longer representative of all young people. A lot of young people are becoming apathetic because of the internal divisions and conflicts which they see reported on TV. They ask what is the point of participating in the political and democratic process. In spite of this, the Forum is continuing to try to engage young people in political and social life and decision-making, and to provide training in democracy, conflict resolution and decision-making. I thought of our own youth organisations in the UK, and what a comparatively easy job they have. One can only hope that some skilled leaders are emerging amongst young people who will be able to lead their country out of division, conflict and despair. The ordinary people we have met here believe in peace and wish to get on with their lives and be allowed to enjoy human rights, welfare and prosperity, but feel they have been let down by their leaders. It seems they are right.”

Nizar, my colleague at the Student Forum, exemplifies the hospitality and openness which is so prominent in Palestinian society. He has spent the whole of his life in Deheishe refugee camp, and one afternoon he invites Anna, Haidee and myself to take tea with him in his flat. Below is an account of our visit:

“Deheishe - 11,000 people crammed into half a square kilometre. The narrow streets are uneven and scattered with litter. A crazy network of wires ahead, criss-crossing the sky. We pass numerous children, some of them dressed up in quite glamorous clothes, others more bedraggled-looking. Some smile and try out their few English sentences, others are shy at the sight of strangers.

Established after the 1948 Nakbah, Deheishe is now more of a village than a tent-city. Houses all have running water and electricity, although these can be cut off during the winter. The inhabitants have done much to improve living conditions for themselves: there is a clinic (with only one doctor) and a cultural centre, also two schools (with 45 - 50 children per class), but living conditions are cramped. There is a feeling of close community: Nizar volunteers with children at the cultural centre in his spare time, as well as working at the Students' Forum during the day and studying to be a social worker.

Nizar shows us into the flat which he has constructed for himself under his parents house, apologising for its simplicity. He has made a paradise out of this small space. In his little garden outside there is a water feature and a beautiful stone table - also a sort of barbeque (where he can cook food in the ground). He is quite a whizz at technology too: we go on Google Earth to show him where we live and he then takes our photographs on his laptop using another programme.

Graphic paintings on the walls of the camp on our way out: a mother flees clutching her baby in her arms and holding on to an uprooted olive tree; a JCB advances in the form of a skeleton; and silhouettes of dark soldiers march across the landscape. The words "Lest we forget" remind us that feelings of injustice and dispossession live on in this place. Many refugees in the camp still keep the key to their front doors, even though many houses and even whole villages are now only ruins, betrayed only by lines of stones overgrown by grass. Even for the second and third generations, memories and hopes hang heavy in the labyrinthine streets.”

Of Tents, Houses and Homes:

During the second week of our visit some of the group helped to rebuild a home which had been demolished by the Israeli Defense Forces in 2005. The following passage outlines some early impressions:

“The home-rebuilding project, financed by the Holy Land Trust, is happening in a remote area called Wadi Rahal. It’s not far from Bethlehem, but we have to drive along winding dusty roads to get there. On the Palestinian side of the valley where the building site is there are scattered farmhouses, with the traces of more than one demolished house. These houses have been built without permission - but then it is practically impossible for a Palestinian to get permission to build a house here in Zone C (under Israeli control). Close to the houses great swathes of land have been prepared for the Wall and an Israeli-only road. Across the valley rise up the smart appartment blocks of Efrat, with their solar-panelled roofs.

The owner of the demolished home tells his story. He worked hard for many years to help build Israeli settlements and earns only a meagre income. With this money he saved enough over 7 years to build a house for his family. He then received a demolition order from the Israeli authorities. This happens frequently, but the order is not always carried out. In 2005 he was told that his house was going to be demolished and that there would be a court hearing in two weeks at which he could appeal. This was to happen at 8a.m. in the morning, and he prepared his case. At 7a.m. the bulldozers arrived. By 8a.m. the house was already a pile of rubble.

The family initially lived in a tent, but the Palestinian winters are very cold, so the family then moved in with the owner's brother, who lives next door. Two families with numerous children are now housed in a 2-room house with very poor kitchen facilities. Close by is a shed housing sheep and goats.

The family has received visits from the Palestinian authorities, who promised to help - but nothing happened. They are therefore overjoyed that the Holy Land Trust is actually carrying out its promise.

On the first day of the rebuilding, volunteers gathered punctually at the offices of the Holy Land Trust, eager to start work. Unfortunately things don’t happen like this in Palestine. We waited around for 2 hours, and it was then decided that we would all participate in the protest against the Wall at Salamona first, then go on to the home rebuilding. At the site the family had erected what Marwan calls an "international tent", and we weren’t allowed to start work until we had been shown hospitality. We were seated in the tent, and served with hot mint tea and then lunch. Steaming plates of "maklouba" were conjured out of the tiny kitchen, with small bowls of yoghurt. It was only when we had thus been greeted that it was deemed right for us to start work.

Our work mostly consisted of forming a human chain to pass buckets-full of cement to the workmen who were filling up the walls. We worked in the blazing sun - from Canada, America, Britain, France, Switzerland, Italy - all motivated by the desire to do something to help alleviate the injustice we have seen around us and to change the reality experienced by one family.

On our way back to Bethlehem we pass another settler "outpost" under construction - a collection of caravans perched on the hillside, staking claim to another piece of Jewish territory deep inside the West Bank. Life is so precarious here. We pray that the structure we are helping to build will be allowed to remain and provide a home for one Palestinian family.”

Life at the building site had its high-points and frustrations, as reflected in the following piece, describing the day when the roof was completed:

“Today was a very special day – the day the roof went on the house. As we settled down for our pre-work breakfast, a white dove settled on the electricity wire by the family's house. Silhouetted against a perfect blue sky, it remained for a while overlooking the building site and the settlements beyond, as if to bless our work.

At the beginning of the day the roof consisted of wooden planks. A metal structure was then placed over these, then breeze blocks. Metal rods were then painstakingly tied in place over the blocks to form a sort of mesh. Then came the really exciting bit. As the sun was setting a crane-like machine arrived and proceeded to unfold a huge elephant-trunk of a pipe, which was connected to a cement lorry. Cement was poured through the pipe all over the roof and first of all poked and prodded into place to fill any crannies, then spread all over the roof and smoothed over. The staircase and roof of the brother’s house were lined with spectators, all come out to watch and to celebrate proceedings.

The family’s hospitality was again demonstrated throughout the day. We weren't allowed to start work until we had had breakfast. This consisted of freshly-baked bread, zatar (olive oil and thyme), olives, tomatoes and home-made jam, with steaming hot mint tea. The bread is baked in an oven, which consists of a hole in the ground where there are hot coals. The dough is placed on these and a lid placed on top. The bread is delicious - crusty on the outside and slightly doughy in the middle.

The completing of the roof called for special celebrations. Just before lunch-time we were beckoned upstairs to witness the preparations for a special meal. In an upstairs room two men were stirring a pot containing stock and what we recognised as a sheep's skull - no doubt one of the family's own flock. Lunch consisted of mutton stew with rice, served with very thin pasta mixed through it. A further treat arrived mid afternoon in the form of a traditional Arabic sweet, brought in from the nearest village. This is a very sweet pastry with cooked sheep’s cheese in the middle - delicious.

The main trouble with the work at the building site was that it only provided work for a few of the group at a time - mostly the men who were able to lift heavy blocks and climb up and down from the roof. The typical pattern was bursts of activity, followed by long periods of sitting in the “international tent”, playing cards and games with the children and getting to know the family – as much as our limited Arabic allowed. This at times felt frustrating, and called into question the whole purpose of us being there. On the other hand it highlighted our own limited Western attitudes. We slowly realized that the most important thing about our presence was just that – the fact that we, from the international community had made a commitment and stuck to it, and had demonstrated practical support and friendship when the family had felt deserted by everyone else.


Time and again the humanity and vibrancy of this large family enveloped us and drew us in. On the afternoon the roof went on the women in our group were suddenly ordered inside the house, where we were treated to a private "party". One woman tapped out a rhythm on an upside down bucket, whilst the others danced and got us all up on our feet to join in. Hands clapping, hips shaking, we were drawn into the circle, our inhibitions dissolving in the laughter and ululations of the group. Separated by language and culture, we could yet join together to celebrate our femininity and our joy of life in the rhythm of dance.”

The lasting impressions which remain from the experience of being involved in this house rebuilding project are not about the building itself, but about the relationship we built up with the family. I had to depart before the consecration ceremony, so didn’t see the project through to fruition, although the house was largely finished by the time I left. As we said our goodbyes the mother smiled tearfully and stressed that we were always welcome in her family. She meant it. Once again we were humbled by the generosity of people who have so little and who live in perpetual insecurity – and can yet demonstrate such openness and kindness to others.

Another project which we visited was the Tent of Nations. This visit again demonstrated how precarious the situation of the Palestinians is in the West Bank, but also provided an example of creative, non-violent resistance:

“Daoud, the founder of the Tent of Nations project, explained the background to us. The land where the Tent of Nations is now situated has belonged to Daoud's family since the time of the Ottoman Empire. During that period a lot of land wasn't registered, because the Ottomans charged high taxes for the owners to do so. Nevertheless, the land has been farmed by the family continuously since 1916. In 1981, the Israeli authorities declared that the land belonged to the State. Ever since that time Daoud's family has been fighting to keep it, and has been met with ongoing obstacles, including cutting off their water and electricity supply (they have their own generator).

Daoud has contested the family's ownership of the land in court. The judge was very surprised when Daoud actually produced the original deeds to the land from Ottoman times - and adjourned the case! The land is in a very strategic place, and is at the moment preventing the joining up of a string settlements, which surround the land on all sides. It is also preventing Israeli control of the Palestinian village of Na'lin (7,500 inhabitants), which nestles in the bottom of the valley with the settlements overlooking it from every hilltop. The slopes of the mountains are layerd with neatly tended olive terraces, but the villagers are mostly denied access to their land.

Daoud has turned the farm into a centre for non-violent and environmental action. In his opinion, the Palestinians have 3 choices:

1. to react to their plight with violence
2. to give up, lose hope and wait for external help. Many Palestinians are doing this, as testified by those who leave if they can - exhausted by the difficulties of their daily life and desiring to live with dignity and self-respect
3. to act proactively instead of reacting.

Daoud has chosen the third path. On his farm he runs workshops for children and international volunteers - for instance in ceramics and drama, also to plant trees and help with the farm. We saw the results of some of the work on our visit - a large mural of 3 camels and the nativity star made out of pieces of broken ceramics. Daoud explained the importance of the land for him, and how he tries to get the children to feel the earth in their hands when they make pottery so as to feel their connection to it. This reflects a growing fear that many of the younger generation don't feel connected to the land.

Daoud feels it is important for the Palestinians not to play the victim, but to do something to positively support one another. The Tent of Nations is running a project with the women in the village of Na'lin to help them to learn how to use computers.

Daoud's words reflected his fervent if irrational belief that peace and justice will prevail in the end. He sees this as an organic process, like the planting and growing of new olive trees. It will take time and patience, but must come from the people on the ground themselves. "The sun of justice will rise again" he stated, in almost prophetic terms. Let’s hope he’s right.

After a picnic supper we made a bonfire and gathered round to tell stories. Rami asked members of the group to say what their impressions of the Palestinian people had been so far. Words such as resilience, hospitality and graciousness expressed our experiences with the families we have stayed with and people here in general. As the flames died down, the fire took on a symbolic character. We talked of the importance of helping the Palestinians to keep the flame of hope alive, and to do what we could on our return to tell people what we have witnessed.

We fumbled our way back to the bus, with only the tiny lights of our mobile phones to guide us. A flame-red sun was slowly sinking over the rolling dark purple mountains. In the gathering darkness we could see much more clearly the extent of the Israeli “settlements”. It almost took our breath away. The sound of pipes floated up from the village of Na'lin. Surrounded but still resilient, the villagers of Na'lin were celebrating.”

The Wall:

You can’t go far in Bethlehem without coming up against the Wall. The main entrance to the town is through an official-looking gate in the wall, bearing an ironic message from the Israeli Ministry of Tourism: “Peace be with you”. Exit from the town towards Jerusalem is now through a more civilized-looking holding area with notices reminding people to keep the area clean and tidy. Early in the morning the cue of Palestinian workers looking for work in Jerusalem snakes through this area. Guards in glass cubicles bark instructions to those passing through.

The graphic images on the wall have multiplied – some of them by Banksy. There is a peace dove with spread wings and a gun-target on its breast; a militant throwing a bunch of flowers; a little girl frisking a soldier standing with his hands up facing a wall – and the two mules pulling in opposite directions. Each picture tells a story of misguided perceptions and futile violence.

We went to visit Clare, our friend whose house is completely surrounded by the wall, and spent quite a long time talking to her about her situation. This still feels quite hopeless, and it’s obvious that the physical and psychological health of her family has suffered considerably. Her daughter was on her way to Jordan to do a course related to her university degree, but was having problems with her passport - and this was all getting resolved whilst we were there. She showed us where she is trying to set up a shop to sell craft goods by her house. She dreams of setting up a factory where she could produce goods to sell and help other families apart from her own. This would initially need quite a lot of finance, but it would be brilliant to have a thriving shop right by the Wall and encourage tourists to come and buy goods there and hear her story. Hers is one of the families I came back resolved to help.

The Valley of Fire:

Being hemmed in by walls is one common experience for Palestinians. Another is being constantly faced with difficulties in getting from place to place, and having to exercise ingenuity and patience in doing so. An illustration of this is the “Palestinian route” to Jerusalem – Wadi Naar, or the Valley of Fire. Here are my experiences of using this route:

“Our Arabic teacher had told us about Wadi Naar - the valley of fire - which she said might be the one mentioned in Psalm 23 ("Yeah though I walk through the valley of death, Thy rod and Thy staff shall comfort me.") I travelled this route twice during my visit, and could understand how it got its name. Hairpin bends snake down dusty roads amongst spectacular barren mountainous countryside, dotted from time to time with nomadic communities or villages. On our way back the second time the driver of our minibus insisted on overtaking on a hairpin bend. I just clutched the seat in front of me, shut my eyes and prayed!! No one else in the bus seemed at all concerned. Seatbelts aren't very common here, and children travel cradled on their parents' laps or even standing up in cars. Perhaps when life is precarious, the dangers on the road are just another thing people face with equanimity.

The Wadi Naar is the "Palestinian route" to Jerusalem. There is a much easier way of course - but this takes you through the Israeli checkpoint and to West Jerusalem. Only a tiny percentage of Palestinians have been granted permits by the Israeli Authorities to travel this way, so they habitually take the second-class more precarious route. My first journey took me to meet Anna's friend Nirvene at Abu Dis, a small town to the East of Jerusalem which has been almost entirely cut off from Jerusalem by the Wall. Many of its inhabitants used to depend on work in the city for their livelihood. The Wall has sliced through this community, separating people from work, schools, universities (Al Quds university is in Abu Dis) and members of their families.

Nirvene's story illustrates the kind of dilemmas ordinary families face. She and Abed, her husband, were married one month before the first Intifada. Nirvene had a good job in Jerusalem, where her family also live. Because she worked and lived in Jerusalem, Nirvene has Israeli ID, whereas Abed, who is from the West Bank hasn't. Things became difficult for them during the Second Intifada, when people with Palestinian ID were not allowed to work in Jerusalem. As a compromise, Nirvene opted for a while to work and live in Jerusalem during the week, and to return to be with her husband during the week-end. She has now decided, however, to live with Abed's family in Abu Dis and has given up work to be with her 3 children full-time. She appears happy with her choice, but must be aware that she could lose her Israeli ID, living as she now does in what has become part of the West Bank.

I was not able to meet Abed because he had taken a British group to Nablus for the day. Abed has been appointed as co-ordinator in Palestine for a UK charity based in Camden, which has twinned with Abu Dis and is helping the community there in a number of ways - e.g. through educational, cultural and welfare projects. This is one practical example of what people in the UK can do to show solidarity with Palestinian communities and offer them practical support.

My second trip through the Valley of Fire took me to Ramallah Quaker Meeting. The meeting house is a beautiful place - a real oasis amongst the car horns, bustle and shouts of Ramallah's streets. A well-tended garden leads up to a simple building with a sloping roof. Inside the walls have been stripped back to the original stone, the floor is flagstones and the ceiling wooden. The only pieces of furniture are the white-painted benches (apparently the original ones from the founding of the Meeting House in 1910!). On the wall facing the entrance there is a beautiful quilt, representing peaceful community building. In the centre there is an olive tree; in the top corners two towns burn - but the flames are transformed into drops of water and streams which irrigate the land. All around the edges are embroidered pictures of people greeting one another, dancing and talking.

There is no doubt that Ramallah Quakers are in a difficult position. Over the years their members have dwindled considerably because many have emigrated (as is the case with Christians in general). The situation at the moment is very distressing, because of internal divisions within Palestinian society itself. Despite this, the Friends International Centre continues to open its doors to the community, welcoming Christians, Muslims and Jews alike and providing much-needed community activities – reflecting the vision of peaceful community- building portrayed in the quilt hanging in the Meeting Room.”

Non-violent Protests:

One of the things that led me to volunteer with the Holy Land Trust rather than any other organisation was the fact that the Trust is involved in non-violent resistance to the occupation. Apart from the home rebuilding, I was therefore very keen to participate in non-violent protests during my visit.

It is difficult to mention the protests without referring to Marwan, the main organiser of the protests and an inspiration to us all. He was fearless and dedicated, assertive without ever being aggressive, well-known to both the Palestinians and the Israeli forces, a skillful negotiator and communicator in both Arabic and Hebrew. During the home rebuilding it was Marwan who kept contact with the family, organized the pick-ups and kept us entertained with his sense of humour.

The first demonstration we took part in was a weekly demonstration against the wall near the village of Salamona to the South of Bethlehem. Palestinian houses in this area have been demolished and land has been taken to make way for the wall. There is also a burgeoning settlement nearby at Tikkoa (near Herodium) and an Israeli-only road - well inside the 1967 Green Line on the West Bank.

The demonstration was quite a low-key affair. It consisted of a handful of villagers and some little boys waving huge Palestinian flags as well as an assortment of internationals and a few young Israelis from an organisation called "Anarchists Against the Wall". We advanced towards the barbed wire which the Israeli military had put across the road, and some slogans were shouted (e.g. :"The Wall must fall!"). We stood under the burning sun face to face over this stupid piece of coiled barbed wire, a motley group of peace-keepers and civilians facing a line of heavily armed and booted soldiers. One member of the group read out a declaration in English stating the right of the Palestinians to live there in peace. Marwan then talked to the Israeli commander in chief, who seemed to be quite reasonable and friendly, although there was nothing he could do about the situation.

We went to visit the family in a nearby house, which is entered by Israeli soldiers every Friday so that they can put a sniper on the roof. The military enter the house, sometimes without knocking, and then prevent the family from leaving - which means they are unable to go to the Mosque in the nearby village to pray. This is all for "security reasons" although the demonstrations are always specifically non-violent.

Although those of us participating in this demonstration were glad to have made a stand, it did feel quite futile and ineffective against the force of the Israeli military – of nuisance value at the very worst. When these demonstrations first started they were joined by many villagers, and parts of the wall were dismantled. When the villagers saw that the demonstrations had no result, however, support fell away. This illustrates the problem of promoting non-violent solutions in a society were this runs against the “norm” and where people – quite understandably – feel disempowered. On reflection, however, this is perhaps not much different to anti-war protests in the UK!

Returning from the demonstration in Salamona we received a message that some settlers had come to Ush Ghrab and were creating trouble. This is an area of Beit Sahour, near Bethlehem, where a park, children's playground and cafe have recently been developed for the use of the community. A summer camp for children was also taking place in the park. It is a place where families and young people gather in the balmy evenings to play and socialise - a seemingly safe, “normal” family area.


Just over the brow of the hill from this scene of normality is a much more sinister site. This used to be a military camp, but the land is in the process of being given over to the community for the development of a children's hospital. The site is in a hollow, and contains the shells of military barracks, one taller than the others and standing at a slant. Inhabitants from the surrounding settlements are determined to claim this piece of land for a new settlement (colony), thus completing a ring of settlements around the Bethlehem area and strategically dominating the area. They go to the site at every opportunity to stake their claim to it - which means painting the abandoned buildings with racist graffiti and raising the Israeli flag. Peace campaigners (mostly international volunteers) have responded with a series of non-violent protests, including rubbing out the racist slogans and painting over them with peaceful ones such as "An eye for an eye makes everyone blind."

By the time we reached the area after the Salamona demonstration both the settlers and the military (who are charged with moving the settlers on - though this sometimes takes some time) had already left. Imagine the site: a few empty shells of concrete buildings covered in slogans and pictures - most of which we can't read because they're in Hebrew - but we get the gist. Stars of David feature prominently amongst the graffiti. One slogan reads "Israel belongs 2 the Jews”. On the top of one of the buildings an Israeli flag has been planted and flies high in the breeze against a bright blue sky. Somebody who has met some of the settlers tells me that they are mostly from France and the US.

A number of peace volunteers have gathered at the site and some nifty team-work follows. One volunteer manages to scale the building by a rope and get the flag down. We then work together to make sure he gets down again safely.

Back at the car Marwan offers us some fresh figs - and we drive back to Bethlehem with a host of impressions and feelings going around in our heads. We recuperate over a glass of fresh lemonade with mint and a salad with haloumi-type cheese and pitta bread. We are served with particular Palestinian graciousness and a broad smile. Why does the world have such a distorted, negative view of these warm and generous people, we wonder?

My second experience of being involved in a demonstration at Oughshrab made a deeper impression on me, because this was the first time I had come in contact with settlers face-to-face. This protest was in the form of a prayer meeting / peace protest, timed to coincide with a settler meeting, and is recounted in some detail below:

“We arrived on the scene and joined a small group of internationals who were standing in a circle, doing readings and singing peace songs, of which the favourite one - sung with much gusto and clapping - turned out to be:

"And everyone 'neath his vine and fig tree
Shall live in peace and unafraid.
And into ploughshares turn their swords
Nations shall learn war no more."

A couple of settlers were busy drilling holes into the slanting structure to put up a banner, and the Israeli flag was hoisted on the top of the building to the sound of clapping and cheering.

In the gathering dusk, the settlers began to congregate, and it became evident that this was a professional affair. Plastic chairs were unloaded from a truck and placed in rows in front of a table. Lights and a PA system were set up. At the top of the slopes leading from the hollow back to the park soldiers patrolled, observing the scene. Then the speeches began.

An elderly woman was addressing the audience in Hebrew, and as she spoke some of the soldiers came down the slopes and moved between us and the settlers. I later understood that she was the leader of a group called ‘the Women in Green’, who are some of the most extremist settlers, and that she was instigating the crowd to "go after the internationals." This they then did, which was not very difficult for them because there were large gaps between the soldiers, who did nothing very much to stop them. Some of them came amongst us, deriding our singing and trying to drown us out. We were pushed, spat upon, and dust and stones thrown at us. Luckily there were no serious casualties. Marwan was hit in the back at the bottom of his spine with a rock - but knows that - as a Palestinian - it would be useless for him to complain. One of the Italian girls lost her spectacles. We ended up in a corner of the site, regrouped - shaken, and took up our singing again, closely guarded by a row of soldiers. None of the settlers were arrested, though the violence was very clearly on their side.

As darkness fell the settlers packed up their chairs, speakers and lights and left. We too scrambled back up the slopes of the hollow and back to the park - to the singing and drumming of the children and to normality. But in our hearts we carried the awful reality of the hatred we had seen. Tomorrow the peace protestors will no doubt return and pull the Israeli flag down - but soon most of the internationals will return home - and what chance does the local community then stand against the persistence and fanaticism of the settlers?

As I ponder on this experience, I try to understand how the minds of these settlers work. How do they see their situation and why do they react to us with such hatred? My only explanation is that they do truly believe that they are the "chosen people", that this land has been promised them by God, and that all the world is against them. All consideration of Palestinians as people of equal worth and with equal rights must be completely alien to them. How can we speak to such people, or appeal to their humanity and sense of justice? If they were to achieve their entirely Jewish state, what kind of a state would this be - built on violence and hatred? What chance is there of a peaceful solution whilst such extremists continue to raise their flags deep into the West Bank with government compliance and impunity, choking communities and making life increasingly impossible for the local population? A speaker we heard yesterday estimated that - when the Separation Wall is completed, only 15% of Palestine will remain, and that this will be in the form of tattered fragments with movement between them controlled by Israel. How can this be a viable state?

During the house rebuilding this morning we had a further discussion about this incident. One member of our group who is from Australia and has done a lot of work with Aborigines, stated that she didn't support these protests because they involved largely internationals and weren't rooted in the wishes of the local community. There is a valid point here. Whilst I have been here I have now taken part in 3 protests. These have included some local citizens, but a large proportion of the participants have been internationals. For non-violence to be effective, it needs to come from the grass-roots and to involve the local population in planning and implementing actions. This is, however, easier said than done in the Palestinian context. They tried non-violent methods during the first Intifada, then violent ones during the second. Both have failed. Marwan said to me this morning that a lot of Palestinians are now waiting for a God-given solution - whatever that might be - or they are just getting on with the struggle of their everyday lives, trying to ignore underlying feelings of hopelessness, frustration and isolation. This is why our presence here - however symbolic it may seem at times - is important. It at least signals to the Palestinians that they have some international support and are not completely forgotten.”

I later found out that the demonstrations do have the support of the municipality, but that it is difficult for them to ‘rock the boat’ too much as negotiations to sign over the land are at a precarious stage. Let’s hope so. If not the children’s hospital is history – likewise the community park, because that would then be in Zone C and seen as a ‘security risk’.

Meetings with Israeli Peace Groups:

Another aim of the Palestine Summer Encounter was to help us to connect with Israeli groups working for peace and human rights.

The first group we visited was the Israeli Committee Against House Demolitions (ICAHD). As its title suggests, this group has concentrated on the abusive policy of demolishing Palestinian homes as a part of a wider policy of dispossessing the native population of land and entitlements as citizens. With an ICAHD representative we visited settlements in East Jerusalem, and were able to see how housing policies have restricted the building of Palestinian homes and encouraged the development of apartment blocks for Israelis, many of these funded by capital from the US. We also witnessed the difference in services experienced by Palestinian and Israeli East Jerusalemites – although the two groups pay the same taxes. This is part of a wider policy to change the demographic nature of East Jerusalem in favour of the Israeli population.

The second group we visited was B’tselem: the Israeli Information Centre for Human Rights in the Occupied Territories. This group documents and makes representations about human rights abuses much in the same way as Amnesty International does on a world-wide basis. Their 2007 Annual Report includes details of the killing of Palestinians not taking part in hostilities, collective punishment, restrictions on movement, violence by IDF security forces and settlers, and discriminatory urban planning in East Jerusalem. Two main themes are identified in the report as causing concern: the increasing use of security as a justification / excuse to promote political interests such as the expansion of settlements; and the security forces’ lack of accountability in all matters relating to human rights. B’tselem’s ability to document human rights abuses had been boosted in 2007 by a campaign to give Palestinians video cameras, and this had resulted in some perpetrators being brought to justice. It was evident, however, how draining this struggle is. As we spoke to the representative, we could see how much this work had taken a toll on him personally.

Two of us from our group went on a trip organised by the Israeli "Breaking the Silence" group. This is a group of ex-Israeli military who have decided to speak out about the human rights abuses against Palestinian civilians they have been part of and witnessed during their time in the army. For doing this they have been described as "provocateurs". The trip took us down to the South Hebron hills, along Route 60.

As we head South our guide explains to us some of what we are seeing. Firstly there are the settlements of Gush Etzyon and Efrata, strung out along the highway - designed to take in as much land as possible and change the route of the border between Israel and Palestine. Four Palestinian villages to our right are completely surrounded by the Separation Wall - their only access to Bethlehem by a tunnel. The Israeli government has been planning a new Israeli-only road system down to Hebron so that Israeli citizens and settlers can travel this route without having to come into contact with Palestinians - but international funding for this scheme has not been forthcoming. Not surprising.

On our left we pass vineyards and fruit trees belonging to Palestinian farmers, but it’s impossible for these farmers to transport their goods to Palestinian markets in the West Bank because of checkpoints and restrictions on movement.

As we reach the South Hebron Hills our guide explains the uniqueness of this area. The original inhabitants traditionally lived in caves and were poor, semi-nomadic, largely uneducated farmers. The Grand Plan is to move these settlers to the West, towards the town of Yatta, leaving the other side of Road 317 as Israeli territory. He shows us low concrete blocks lining the left-hand side of the road - to block farmers from moving their flocks from one side of the road to the other. These were ruled by the Israeli High Court to be completely illegal - but some are still in place. There has been an ongoing battle to move the farmers from their land, including proclaiming the whole area as a shooting range for the Israeli army, destroying the farmers homes, poisoning their wells, and forcibly transporting them to the highway (to encourage them to move to Yatta). Each time the farmers have returned and - with the support of left-wing Israeli groups - have appealed to remain on their land. The battle continues.

Our guide explains the lack of rule of law in the area. First of all there is military law - but the Army has no authority over the settlers - the perpetrators of violent attacks against the native farmers. Then there is the Police, who do have the authority to challenge and arrest the settlers. However, there are only 2 police cars in the whole area. In effect the settlers are a law unto themselves and are hardly ever brought to justice. Laws from the Ottoman period are revived to dispossess inhabitants of their land - for instance the law that if a land-owner hasn't been farming his land for more than 3 years, then he loses it. Since 1967 40% of Palestinian land in the West Bank has been lost in this way, because landowners are prevented from reaching their land due to checkpoints, walls, roads and security areas.

We visit a family in the area, who now live in tents, and listen to their story. We crowd into their humble abode and are plied with hot sugary tea. We hear how settlers have attacked members of their family, how their olive trees have been cut, how they are now unable to reach 18 out of 23 of their wells because they are situated in the "security zone" guarding the surrounding settlements and illegal settler "outposts". The direct road to Yatta has been blocked - i.e. the road to shops, schools and hospitals. During term-time their children have to stay with family in Yatta during the week, only returning home at week-ends. Electricity is supplied - courtesy of an Israeli left-wing group - by solar power, but the family have to get water brought in from Yatta to meet their needs - a very expensive procedure. We are struck by the courtesy and friendliness of these people who have next to nothing, eking out a simple subsistence on a barren land, their very livelihood hanging in the balance, and whose only wish is to be able to continue their traditional lifestyle in peace.

On our way back towards Jerusalem, we pass the Palestinian village of At-Tuwani. This village has been in the news because the settlers near the village have threatened and attacked the villagers' children on their way to school, causing several violent incidents - for instance by throwing stones. A Christian Peacemaker Team has been based there for some time, their main purpose being to protect the children. In 2005 there was a serious incident during which two of the Peacemaker team were seriously injured. Since then, the army has been ordered to escort the children to school, but CPT have to monitor regularly that they are actually fulfilling this role. They sometimes turn up late, and there have been scenes of the army "escorting" the children to school in jeeps, with the children running behind to keep up! These villagers live in Zone C, which is under both Israeli security and civil administration. It seems that Palestinian lives and security are worth little in these areas, including those of children.

Meetings with Peace Women:

During the visit I managed to link up with four of the Israeli and Palestinian peace women who originally visited the UK in 2004. They are all active in varying degrees, depending on their circumstances and energy.

Perhaps the most extensive meeting I had was with Violette, who is a Palestinian Israeli and a leading member of Sabeel – a grassroots Christian organisation, and her daughter Faten. Violette was preparing for an international Sabeel conference in November. Faten, an actress, was about to start helping to run a non-violent training programme for young people based in the Friends Meeting House in Ramallah. She will run drama workshops as part of the programme, which will also involve outside speakers and trainers.

Sitting in the beautiful courtyard of a restaurant in the old city of Nazareth, with vines overhead and the quiet rippling of a fountain nearby, we discussed various aspects of the present situation of the Palestinian people - both those on the West Bank and the so-called Arab Israelis. They confirmed some of the things I have sensed here - e.g. the danger that Palestinians in the different areas of the country are becoming fragmented and even feel resentment towards one another, because of perceptions that some are less oppressed than others. They feel that this is leading to the loss of a sense of common identity.

They feel it is too early to think about Israelis and Palestinians coming together to talk about peace - especially not what Violette calls "hummus peace", where people come together to share food and to be nice to one another, but without producing any real change as a result. They stressed how important it is for the Palestinians to work on themselves first - through the sort of projects that Faten will be working on - but also so as to have a stronger government. I'm sure that they are right. The problem is that - whilst the Palestinians are taking time to do this - the Israeli "facts on the ground" continue apace, nibbling constantly away at the fragments of land that are left.

Before the meal I attended their local church with them. They described this as a "Mass", but it was quite a lively affair, with much singing accompanied by the guitar, the words of the songs in Arabic projected on large screens with backgrounds showing Biblical scenes. In his sermon, the pastor talked about how Christian pilgrims come to Nazareth to visit this most Christian of places, but how the local Christian population itself is in fact dwindling rapidly. This message could – I’m sure – be repeated for the Christian communities in Bethlehem and Jerusalem. Violette picked up this theme during our meal, regretting that the money which is given for churches in the Holy Land never reaches the congregation on the ground, who need it most.

During the visit, I also met with Hanna, Sandrine and Amneh. Hanna continues to be active with New Profile (which raises awareness about the militaristic nature of Israeli society) and Machsomwatch (a group of Israeli women who monitor human rights abuses at the checkpoints). She told me that New Profile may be taken to court as an “illegal organisation”, and that it’s important that they are supported by the international community. She continues to be a major source of information and inspiration, sending regular reports about young Israeli conscientious objectors and peace demonstrations. Sandrine is now working with families in East Jerusalem who have children with special educational needs. She looked well, but – like many – is tired of the constant struggle and is also spending time developing her singing career. I am reminded that Palestinians, too, are human, and that being continually engaged in struggle takes its toll. Finally I had a brief meeting with Amneh right at the end of my visit. She has been adapting her PhD comparing the present situation in Israel-Palestine to apartheid in South Africa into a book, which will soon be published.

Effective Advocacy:

During the Summer Encounter we had the opportunity of attending regular presentations and films at the Alternative Information Centre in Beit Sahour. One speaker was Rafat Kassis, special advisor to the World Council of Churches and also to the UN on economic affairs. His talk was a critical look at Palestinian attempts to convey their plight to the world, which have been largely ineffective (compared, for instance, with the South African apartheid campaign). He examined what we mean by Advocacy, and asked how this can be effective. The "Keep Hope Alive (Olive Tree) Campaign" was cited as an example of an effective advocacy project, some defining factors being that it had come from the grass-roots and was based on the needs of local people, that it had clear and simple aims and messages, and that it had researched and understood its target audiences. This campaign also aims to educate international audiences by bringing them to the Holy Land with specific objectives (e.g. to help with the olive harvest / planting), and enabling them to help in small yet effective ways. He criticised a trend in Palestinian (and international) thinking that sending off e-mails telling people about events and situations was enough, and stressed the importance of actually going out on the streets and undertaking grass-roots actions.

So what can we in the international community effectively do to support the Palestinian cause? Some factors of effective action need to be:

1. raising awareness, educating and informing the wider public and the Media as much as we can, perhaps targeting particular groups.

2. working with politicians and pressure groups to put pressure on our government & the EU.

3. undertaking some more targeted projects with specific aims - e.g. twinning with a community in Palestine and working with them on specific projects, or helping particular individuals (such as Claire who is struggling to set up a tourist business in the shadow of the Wall or Ahmed who has specific ideas about how he can improve the education of the boys at his school).

4. advertising opportunities for people to go and see the situation for themselves, to take part in campaign such as the olive harvest, and to talk to people about the realities on their return.

It is easy to feel that efforts such as the above are isolated and pointless. However, if enough people and organizations in international civil society work together on such initiatives, we can create a groundswell of opinion which it would be difficult for governments to ignore. We need to believe that this can work in the same way that the anti-apartheid campaign worked for South Africa.

Conclusion:

Finishing this report four months after my return, what do I feel my visit achieved? Looking at the specific aims of the visit, I think that many of them were fulfilled. At the same time, however, the injustice and discrimination experienced every day by Palestinians continues with very little condemnation from the world’s governments. Perhaps what the visit has enabled me to do better than before is to be an effective advocate for the generous, open, humane people I met during my stay, and for those working for peace and an end to violence on both sides. To be able to tell people openly and honestly what I experienced and witnessed. To speak clearly and fearlessly about institutionalized prejudice and injustice.

As bombs rain down on Gaza, I hope that 2009 will be a year where more and more advocates in international civil society find their voice and put pressure on those in power to work for lasting solutions based on justice and equality, where the human rights and dignity of all in the Holy Land are respected.

Jane Harries

What you can do now:

A: Go and see for yourself:

There are a number of organisations that organise visits to the Occupied Territories in order to educate oneself about the situation and to help in practical ways. Some of these are:

1. Holy Land Trust – organises non-violent programmes and volunteering opportunities such as the Palestine Summer Encounter.
www.holylandtrust.org
2. Joint Advocacy Initiative of the East Jerusalem YMCA and YWCA – organises visits and campaigns, including olive planting and harvesting.
www.jai-pal.org
3. Israeli Committee Against House Demolitions (ICAHD) – opportunities to take part in home-rebuilding projects
www.icahd.org/eng

B: Keep yourself informed:

Here are some sources of information:

1. B’tselem: Israeli Information Centre for Human Rights in the Occupied Territories
www.btselem.org/English
2. Breaking the Silence: Israeli Soldiers talk about the Occupied Territories
www.brreakingthesilence.org.il
3. Sabeel: Ecumenical Liberation Theology Centre, Jerusalem
www.sabeel.org
4. New Profile: Movement for the Civil-isation of Israeli society
www.newprofile.org
5. Machsomwatch: Women Against the Occupation and for Human Rights
www.machsomwatch.org/en

C: Be an Advocate:

Speak out against injustice by writing to your MP and MEPs, writing to the media, signing petitions and going on demonstrations. Be persistent. Don’t give up.

A hard copy of this report can be obtained, including photographs embedded in the text.
Please contact the Editor, see below.

editor@womentowomenforpeace.org.uk