The Palestinian struggle for freedom and independence is larger than the late President Yasir Arafat. The decades-long symbolism that Arafat embodied should not be underestimated. It is this symbolism that Palestinians are mourning. Despite the confusion of the hour, one fact remains clear. The Palestinian people, collectively, whether in the Occupied Territories, scattered in squalid refugee camps around the Middle East, or living in exile, will never wake up one day and accept the historic injustice that has been done to them. Read more about Palestine Greater Than Arafat  

Catching a taxi to my apartment near Arafat’s compound in Ramallah the other night, the Palestinian driver’s immediate question concerned my nationality. “Germany?” he asked. No. “France?” No. “Switzerland?” No. “Italy?” No … Before he covered the rest of Europe, I somewhat sheepishly admitted, “America.” He cut to the chase: “Do you support Bush?” With an almost desperate note of pain in his voice, different from that of the jaded drivers I usually have, he asked me about occupied Palestine, about occupied Iraq. “Why does your country do this to us?” he asked me. “Are we bad?” “Am I no good?” Read more about A letter from Palestine to my fellow Americans 

Olive harvesting, an ancient practice that holds great spiritual and economic significance to Palestinians, is threatened by Israel’s colonization of West Bank lands. In areas such as the village of Jayyous, farmers have been cut off from their olive orchards by the apartheid wall Israel is illegally building on Palestinian land with the intention of annexing precious natural resources to the Israeli side while preventing the rightful Palestinian owners access to their land. But here in Yanoun, it is the Israeli settlers themselves who harass and shoot at the Palestinian harvesters, whose only crime is their desire to work the land that their ancestors have tended for generations. Read more about Photostory: Olive harvest in Lower Yanoun 

While the BBC and CNN have been treating the failing health and rumored death of Palestinian President Yasser Arafat as the world’s top story for the past two days, it is business as usual here in Ramallah. Though journalists swarmed the PA headquarters where Arafat has been holed up for the past three years (known in Palestine as the Maqata’a) last night and presumably this morning, news of Arafat’s impending death did not stop the Friday markets from bustling this morning — another Friday during Ramadan. Today I casually asked a Palestinian man I had been talking to in a shop what he thinks will happen in Ramallah once Arafat dies. “Nothing,” he said. Read more about Just another Ramadan Friday in Ramallah 

We all cannot sleep, this Friday early morning. Mary, Jara and I sit around the TV to watch the latest news about Arafat. The best news on offer is the announcement that he is not yet dead but in coma, a “reversible coma,” it is said later on. Palestinian spokespersons in Ramallah and Paris were yesterday contradicting each other. I am reminded of the repeated complaints, at a recent conference, by young Palestinian media students about the presence of multiple spokespersons at the PNA. Jara solemnly announces that she hopes that “our leader will not die.” Toine van Teeffelen writes about the feeling in the streets of Bethlehem. Read more about The Mountain Shakes 

Today we arose at 6am to go watch the children come to school. After repeated stone throwing, shouting, and threats by settlers, the children are taking the long way. They ride donkeys for two hours on the mountains around the settlement and outpost. We station ourselves along their path at strategic places where we can see both the children and the settlement. We would have time to act if settlers come out of the trees, we plan to draw them away from the children, call an Israeli activist friend who can mobilize the army and police, and then attempt to get space between the settlers and the trees so that they are more likely to be caught. This isn’t the best of plans, but every problem has a solution (kul mushkilah ilhaa hal), and this seems to be the best one for now. Read more about Diaries from Tuwani 

The thing that always surprises me about the West Bank is how it never seems to change significantly. Understandably, there is a lack of progress. But I still find it disheartening in a sense to return to my parents homeland and find that, besides a building or two or a new shop, everything is the same as it was four, eight, or even twelve years ago. My last trip to the West Bank was in 2000, just a week before the Intifada broke out. West Bank remains in essence as it was then, however, there are more road closures and greater difficulty entering. Even leaving is a daunting prospect considering the number of checkpoints (no less than five on the route I took to Allenby Bridge) and a 4.30am departure time. My experience in West Bank was extremely memorable, despite an appalling beginning. I spent one week in my father’s village of Arrabeh (about 12km from Jenin), and visited family in other nearby areas, including Jenin. Read more about Foreigner 

Aysheh’s youngest son, Majdi, the only one among her children to graduate from college, is in Israeli prison. In April of this year, he graduated from Bethlehem University with a degree in physical therapy. When he was arrested, he was looking for steady work while taking odd jobs as a masseur for $10 a sitting. For four years, he has been engaged to a young woman from Aida Refugee Camp. Being unmarried, he was the main support for his aged parents. Israeli soldiers broke into the back of the family compound to pick Majdi up in the early hours of the morning a few months ago. Read more about Prisoner Stories: Majdi Hasan Mousa