Some of the claims herein are shocking. I honestly hope that the interview - originally conducted in Hebrew - will impel people to action and that the commanders responsible for such abuses will be held to account. It is worth remembering that the soldier’s unit was ‘exemplary’ in that it was considered to be one that had relatively good discipline compared to other fighting units in the IDF. The interview is thus testimony to the real nature of a military force that is often portrayed as ‘the most moral army in the world.’ After reading this interview, it is hard to understand how such a mythology can be sustained within the Israeli body-politic and in the mainstream of US public opinion. Read more about Interview: What the IDF is doing in Nablus
Rami Fadayel’s parents, Rizik and Muna, and his aunt Samia attended Rami’s commencement exercises in 2002 at Birzeit University, where he received a degree in accounting. They wanted to hear his name being called out. Rami himself could not be at the commencement. He was wanted by the Israeli forces and did not risk passing through the check point at Surda to get to Birzeit. Rami, who is now 24 years old, was likewise absent from his own engagement party, which his family held for him on April 4, 2004, on the Day of the Palestinian Prisoner. Arrested on January 11, 2003, he was in Ofar prison in Ramallah serving a sentence of 42 months. Read more about Prisoner Stories: Rami Rizik Fadayel
In telling the story of his son’s imprisonment, Mohammad Samarah reflects on an irony that seems to him sad and inspirational at the same time. His youngest son, Mu’aath (27), is being held at an Israeli prison called Jalbou’. It’s a new prison north of Jenin in the Jalboun hills built to replace an older prison by the same name that was located in the Palestinian village of Shatta. The irony, Mohammad Samarah explains, lies in the fact that his family comes from a village in Jalboun called Noores. The Israelis have wiped out this Palestinian village, but overlooking its ruins, there is now an Israeli “settlement” tauntingly echoing what used to be by calling itself Nooret. Read more about Prisoner Stories: Mua'ath Mohammad Samarah
Toine van TeeffelenBethlehem, Palestine29 August 2004
Palestinian singer Ammar looks an introvert person. On the Lebanese Future station, where he is a finalist in the Idol-like competition “Superstar”, he sings his almost classical Arab songs in a beautiful melodramatic voice. He remains serious while he laughs. Surrounded by glitter and fashionable show presentators and a screaming teenager audience, he looks out of place. Asked by a jury member why he is so reserved and sad, he replies that he cannot sing gaily when his people in Palestine face so many difficulties, and he mentions the people dying at checkpoints. Art is resistance for him. Toine van Teeffelen reports from occupied Bethlehem. Read more about Wings of Freedom
There was a face I knew! It was the coffee seller that my friend ordered from, and introduced with respect: “This gentleman is an accountant, but when times got bad and he couldn’t find appropriate work, he began to sell coffee.” The man was humble and welcoming, smiling inside an enormous purple parka, and adding, out of excess generosity, enough cardamom pods to make the little glass of coffee nearly atomic. Here in one of Jenin’s several internet cafes, the coffee man was smiling from the screen of a website, alongside a brief but potent article by one Nick Pretzlik. Annie Higgins remembers an activist for the Palestinian people. Read more about Remembering Nick Pretzlik
We were held for over 11 hours at the border and interrogated about every single item in our possession and repeatedly asked if we belonged to any “peace or leftist or even UN organization.” It was an incredibly harrowing experience — long periods of mind numbing boredom, staring out into the beautiful red sea, watching hordes of Israelis return from a roasting vacation in the Sinai and endless British Bible tour groups and American backpackers pass through security unharassed. An unpleasant boredom punctuated by short bursts of nerve-racking questioning about the most personal details of our lives (as culled from “offensive” sources in our bags like journals, letters, photographs, stationery, and even slogans on T-shirts), our plans for tourism in Israel, how we know each other, why we study Arabic, and do we know any Arabs. Read more about Interrogated at the Israel-Egypt border
Just after leaving the city of Deir al-Balah, south of Gaza City, our eyes were caught by the beautiful neighbourhood of Abu Holi. Palm trees, olive and citrus orchards and green houses flank the road. A shepherd stands with some sheep between the trees, where a low, rusty metal fence surrounds a calf and a cow chewing leaves. In the heart of such a romantic view, thousands of Palestinian civilians face daily torture at the two sides of Abu Holi checkpoint, which divides the Gaza Strip into two parts. Hundreds of Palestinian taxis, trucks and civilian vehicles snake along the dug-up sandy road of the ill-fated Abu Holi. Watchtowers covered with military-green nets border the checkpoint, where the crying of children is escalating along with the endless queue of cars. Sami Abu Salem writes from Gaza. Read more about Torture of Palestinians in the Heart of Romantic Landscape
Shirabe YamadaDheisheh refugee camp, Palestine8 August 2004
It has been almost a month since Miyasar’s sleeping pattern has changed. Her back neighbor’s house was dynamited by the Israeli army in the early morning of July 13th in the densely populated West Bank refugee camp of Dheisheh. The rumor has it that the next demolition will be her next door neighbor’s house. Every night, Miyasar lays awake in her bed in the fearful anticipation of the arrival of troops. “I wait until around 2AM to fall a sleep, because if they don’t come until then, we know we are saved for the night,” says the mother of 5 children. Shirabe Yamada is back in Dheisheh refugee camp. Read more about Back in Dheisheh: Miyasar's fear
Maysoon notices an odd formation of soldiers. In a row. Guns drawn. Rafael is walking towards them. There are no street lights on. He thinks he’s walking towards an empty van. She pulls him closer to her, and shots are fired. Yes. The soldiers shot into the crowd. No warning fire. No megaphone. Live bullets into a crowd of hundreds. It is so dark, my friends see the sparks fly out of the guns. They keep walking, slowly. Surely. Maysoon figures they won’t shoot in the direction of other soldiers, and she is right. They breeze through the checkpoint. No questions asked by either side. Once through, an Israeli soldier asks her where she’s from, in English. “Can you believe he wanted to have a normal conversation with me?” Read more about Palestine's people never say goodbye
Returning home to Gaza, I had to fly first to Cairo, then cross the Sinai desert by coach to reach the Rafah border crossing — a journey that takes 6 hours at least, as Palestinians are not allowed to use Ben Gurion airport which is merely an hour’s drive from Gaza). The Gaza Strip is served by a modern international airport — built during the Oslo years — but this has remained closed since late 2000, and now sports a bulldozed runway, courtesy of the Israeli army. Dr. Mona El-Farra writes about her long journey from Cairo to Gaza. Read more about The Story of the Seven Gates
