"Peace is not an absence of war, it is a virtue, a state of mind, a disposition for benevolence, confidence, justice."

-Barouch Spinoza



Wednesday, 29 February 2012

Today I talked to an Israeli soldier


It is difficult to get the perspective of the Israelis when we are living on the West Bank, and are mostly surrounded by Palestinians. The programme and the EA’s are neutral to the extent that we practice principled impartiality, meaning that we do not take sides in the conflict but support peace efforts and human rights among all. However there are not many opportunities that naturally present themselves where one can speak to an Israeli soldier.
I told him I preferred not to speak when the Palestinians were around, as I do not want them to associate me with the Israelis. Some do not understand our role as observers at the Checkpoint, or why we cannot intervene more, and instead consider us collaborators with the Israeli. But today there was a storm, with very strong winds and heavy rain pouring down on the concrete. This meant that whilst my cold and cough got worse, I also found myself alone with a curious soldier in his warm cozy booth.
What did he want? Why did I even bother to speak to him?
First of all military service in Israel is compulsory, so regardless of personal opinions conscription means everyone has to do two to three years in the military (with some exceptions). Secondly, we are all human beings, and this is so easy to forget with the barriers and distances in place to separate us. Finally I must admit I am a bit curious as to how the soldiers reason, what they think about Palestine and what they think about our role there. After all the checkpoint is under their control so I was a bit apprehensive.
All he wanted, his name will not be mentioned, because speaking to me can according to him result in severe punishment, was to understand how I could stand there willingly every morning for people and a country that is not even my own. He also confessed to a certain level of self doubt, admitting that he neither believed in God nor attended the synagogue. And he asked me for my personal opinion:
-          Do you think we are doing the right thing?
Although I tried to avoid a harsh critical answer, he said he was for the freedom of expression and that I was entitled to my own opinion.
-          You know what I don’t like about living here? Sometimes like when I am talking to you right now, I get confused. And I don’t like that. It is not easy for you, I am sure many people appreciate what you do.
At one point the queue was suddenly long, and he asked me to go and check how many people there were in line. I estimated it to around a hundred, and he opened the turnstile and let quite a few people through.
-          I am only doing what I am told. I was only allowed to let 30 people through, and I let in 50. If I do not obey my orders, it is I who get punished not you. But you are welcome to call the humanitarian hot line, and they can give me new orders.
-          In Sweden you don’t have war, there is no checkpoints right? You know it reminds me of my grandmother. When I come home on a leave from the military, she always checks my phone list, because it is busier than hers, and she asks me why I have called these people. With you it is the same, you have no problem so you go to other places and care.  There are not enough people who care, the conflict between us and Palestine receive the most attention in the world, but nothing happens. And it is funny that I say this, because all I want to do when I am done with the military is to go away somewhere and not care.
It struck me how much time this soldier must have spent reflecting upon the system he represents, and on the conflict he lives in. Peace is not made with weapons, and soldiers at the checkpoints do exaggerate the structural problems between the Israeli and Palestinians. Nonetheless, at least he sees what is actually going on, and reflects on the possibility of peace.
-          Do you know what I think we should do to get peace? I think the United Nations should take over the schools in Israel and Palestine. Or at least maybe everyday a Palestinian child should come and talk for an hour to an Israeli class on his life, his family, what he does outside of school, and then at the same time an Israeli child should do the same. If we do this everyday, then at least we can learn to understand one another. Then we can become friends and have peace. What do you think?


DISCLAIMER!
I work for the Christian Council of Sweden as an Ecumenical Accompanier, serving on the World Council of Churches’ Ecumenical Accompaniment Programme in Palestine and Israel (EAPPI). The views contained in this report are personal and do not necessarily reflect those of the Christian Council of Sweden or the World Council of Churches. 


The Wall Between Two People


Bethlehem, West Bank, Occupied Palestinian Territories, Israel

It is 6 degrees outside, and in the room I share with Hannah it is a warming 12 degrees. Many may not know that Bethlehem is at the altitude of 791 meters above sea level, and that the desert starts to its right. Stone walls without insulation, and marble floors do without central heating do not necessarily help, and we put on more clothes when we are indoors than we are outside. The Middle East sounds exotic and warm, but I am living in thermals, wooly socks, micro fleece cardigans and many layers of hats, gloves, jackets and scarves. 

One of the most essential parts of my job is to go to the border between Israel and the West Bank where the people of Bethlehem can pass over into the Jerusalem side. It is in its design a hole in the wall, called ”Checkpoint 300”, and there are three different controls the people have to pass through to be let in to Israel. Going in the other direction requires no documents and is just a matter of walking. However imagine standing in a queue already before 4 am, together with several hundred in a metal cage, barred as to prevent pushing and shoving, waiting for the turnstile to open, then showing your documents to a soldier in a booth, whilst a security guard is standing next to you pointing his weapon directly at you, when you have passed that control you have to walk over a huge parking lot with the lights from the watchtowers flashing over you but at this point you are running hoping to go through the second station quickly. In the next building you go down one level, and queue for the metal detector after being let through yet another turnstile. Personally, as a foreigner, I just have to remove my coat and my vest, but most of the men also have to remove their belts and their boots, and do not have time to put them on again until they are at the exit right next to where I greet them. The third control is the most crucial one, where soldiers mostly aged 18-19 check that your id, handprint, and work permit all match. They speak through a microphone, and whilst there are 12 available ID booths and many people want to pass, there is mostly only one and at most four open. So what do we do at the checkpoint you may ask?

One stands counting by the first control, and notes every single person who passes through in the morning hours between 4-8 am. There are two lanes, the main lane, and the humanitarian lane for women, children and men above 60. The humanitarian lane is also used by internationals, and should always be open. However this is normally not the case, and just because a child is sick or has a hospital appointment does not mean it has the right to be let through. Partly because there are medical services in the occupied Palestinian territories, and partly because the hospitals for humanitarian reasons give invitations without checking if the Palestinians can actually afford the offered care. Sadly it is common for Palestinians in desperate need to get into Israel to get a job, to use their children as an excuse, without using the appointment at the hospital, and the Israelis check that the Palestinians do what they are supposed to be doing, with a quite detailed follow up system. This means that when you really need to take your child to the hospital, you may be refused. The main lane is where the awful queue starts to build up as early as 3am, and the person not counting must push past all the men to get to the front at 4am before the first control opens. The men do separate to let you pass, meaning they stand in two lines and you squeeze past in the middle. They do at times touch you, but I am trying to learn how to say”Don’t touch me" in Arabic because then the other men will deal with that person. After squeezing past 500 men, and going through the controls the other person working at the checkpoint stand outside counting how many metal detectors and ID booths that are open. You also greet all the 3-4000 people who pass through the checkpoint and at times need to listen to their frustration, desperation but also compliments i.e. I am given a kiss on the cheek by an old woman everyday and whilst I cannot understand a word she says, I think she understand that I am trying to provide protective presence
 A growing problem is that the Palestinians are not allowed to pray inside the checkpoint, despite religion being a fundamental human right, and you would think the history of Israel would provide an understanding for this. The Morning Prayer is at 5am, but if they are in the queue they wait until they are outside and then pray in masses. Yesterday morning the security guard and police came out and started shouting at the men on two occasions, refusing them the right to pray even there. The second time a man refused to stop praying, so they took him inside. Then two soldiers came out and pointed their big guns at the kneeling, praying men, whilst I stood there paralyzed, quickly calling the person on the Bethlehem side to report and consult in case they were to shoot. Instead the two soldiers turned and angled their automatic weapons up in the air, and unsecured them. I am familiar with both guns or soldiers from my previous experiences, and normally they do not make me stressed. Yet now I felt very concerned and helpless. The rest of the morning the security guards and police sat above the entrance so I could not see them, and threw small plastic objects on the people exiting and then made noises as if they were throwing up on the people below, which of course made the Palestinians very uncomfortable. I am learning to see on the people’s faces if they are concerned, but I believe anyone would consider an uncomfortable experience. Just remember that the Palestinians lucky enough to get a work permit in Israel must go through this process twice daily!

The soldiers wonder of course what we are doing there, and cannot understand that anyone willingly would spend months of their life trying to sympathies with the Palestinians. One of them said to me this morning "Do you know what I dont like about living here? Sometimes when I talk to people like you, like right now I get confused." The soldiers are also just people, and it helps when you at least see a human side in them and some of them like today actually open the queue when I ask.Yet we have to be balance answering their questions respectfully, with not getting associated with them. We do stand at the checkpoint five times a week, so they all recognize us. Our house is also 100 meters from the wall, with only one house in between. I call the wall the monument of evil; it is such a fundamental wrong doing, separating people, creating barriers, exaggerating differences and fears. To cover up its dark glooming presence people have painted on it, but that only covers the lower parts which you do not see from a distance. The further you get from the wall, the more it looks like a creeping snake, but I will save that to next time when I will tell you about the village of Al Walaja.


DISCLAIMER!

I work for the Christian Council of Sweden as an Ecumenical Accompanier, serving on the World Council of Churches’ Ecumenical Accompaniment Programme in Palestine and Israel (EAPPI). The views contained in this report are personal and do not necessarily reflect those of the Christian Council of Sweden or the World Council of Churches. If you would like to publish or disseminate it further, please first contact the EAPPI communications officer and managing editor (eappi-co@jrol.com) for permission.