When I got home from Bili’in, I dumped some pictures onto the computer. Going through them, I was surprised to find just how many showed the same man. I remembered him, but had not been aware that I was singling him out for portraits. Of course there were times when the demonstrators were shouting and angry, particularly when the Israeli occupation forces were manhandling people. But until the truncheons were wielded, there was no violence in the olive groves. When this soldier was in sight, my lens, as if it was independently motorised, must have swivelled towards him. If things were quiet, he would quickly ensure that they did not remain so. One could virtually taste his hate, aggression and viciousness. Read more about Photostory: The face of occupation