"I see the soldiers every day"

“This day was like the 1948 war. Around 1 000 soldiers came down on the hills and surrounded our tents.”

It is midday and we are standing out in the sun, in the middle of the Jordan Valley. It is above 30 degrees Celsius. Yet there is no option for shade, as we are talking to one of the families who have been forced to leave their land and had their tent demolished. On the 30^th of June there was a large military exercise in the area, and thirteen families were forced to evacuate for 24 hours. Ibrahim Fakir’s family is one of four who have not been allowed to return to their homes after the military exercise, but have nonetheless done so through the support of the community.

“First in the morning there were ten jeeps full of soldiers, and three bulldozers. They gave us two hours to collect our stuff, before they demolished our home. Then they told us to leave, and we have not been allowed to come back. I am still afraid they will come back and damage my tent. I can see no future for us, only the end.”

We also meet Khalled Sahare, who was forced to leave with his family for 24 hours. As we sit in his tent we see soldier after soldier walking by, climbing the hill and disappearing in the horizon. It is a strange sight, with the soldiers walking in the middle of the Bedouin community, a Palestinian tractor driving in the mist of the soldiers.

”I see the soldiers every day, they come every day. I ask why they tell me to go away from here, and they say ‘we will do training every day.’ Where will I go? This is my area; this is where my father is, where my children are, and my tent.”

“I want peace and to live here in peace with my children, but every day the soldiers come here to train for war.”

When we express our concern for the children, and how they are affected by the proximity of the soldiers he says: “You ask me a question, but you already know the answer. The soldiers come here every day and they train here with their guns. You know how our children are feeling. It is the same as your children would feel.”

Photo credit: Simon Ming/ EAPPI

Next we visit Yasser, who is a little more than a child at the age of 20, but already scarred for life and tired of telling his story. “Well I was grazing my camels, when I heard the shooting. Then suddenly I was shot in the breast, but it was too far away I could not see the soldier who shot me. First they took me to the military camp to check my blood pressure, then I went to the hospital in Nablus, afterwards they took me to a hospital in Ramallah where I had surgery.”

Yasser pulls up his shirt and show us his scars. Besides a ten centimeter long surgical scar, there is another visible wound of the bullet. Meanwhile a group of soldiers approach the tents, and we go out to make our presence known. On the opposite hill we see Yasser’s 20 camels, and we ask if he has gone back to his job.  He says: “yes I still graze them in the same fields, there is nowhere else to take them.”

To go back to face the same dangers day after day, always carrying the reminders of what can happen, is in my eyes rather courageous. It takes determination and makes me wonder how he sees the future. Yasser does not answer, but some of the other men do:

“It is very, very black. Every year is worse than the year before. They took all of the water, they will not allow us to use our springs, and they take our sheep and our tents. They take everything.”  

“There is no vision for the future. Nothing. In the nearby settlement of Maskiyyot they are allowed to build houses, but here they do not allow us to build a tent.”

For who belongs this land?

“We face two kinds of problems; the local people and the occupation.”

“The locals don’t like to see us here; they want us to leave this land. The people in Upper Fasayil resist us the most. The Israeli military officers want to move us to upper Fasayil; they are willing to allocate a little plot of land for each family. But the Mayor refused every offer.”

“Where should we go?”

“Every time we go they follow us. Every time they tell us to leave. We need to move to an area under the control of the Palestinian Authority. We could go and live in upper Fasayil, but the plot of land they have offered us would not be enough. When my son wants to get married, the land will not be enough, I have to think about my children….I said that to the officer and he became very angry. He started to ask questions: ‘From where you bring the water tank and tractor? From where do you bring the electricity? Who support you here? Why are you still here?”

Abu Naher has a question of his own: “Why are you forcing us to move?”

In the last year the family has received four demolitions, every time with a different reason.

“The first time it was archeological, they said it was an archeological site. The second time they said that dates were to be planted here. Then they were to build a zoo for all the animals that was the reason for the third demolition. And the fourth time they said it was land belonging to the settlement.”

“We were offered to get a kindergarten and a health clinic, but nobody wanted to let them build on their land. I said we should make a plan together, but all of the people refused. So finally I said they could use my tent. You see everyone here have taken 2-3 dunams of land for themselves, and they do not care for one another. It is each man for himself. Really if I succeed to stay here it is not just for me, and if I lose, then we will all lose.”

Yesterday Tony Blair was in Al Fasyail and met with the Mayor of upper Fasayil. He did not however met with Abu Naher, despite him being the most renowned case amongst the international organizations working in the area, the one symbolizing the future for the people between upper and lower Fasayil. The land in between upper and lower Fasayil, where Abu Naher is living has been proclaimed state land and the question is what does this mean? Or in the words of Abu Naher:

“for who belongs this land?”

For another perspective, read my colleague Simon Ming's blog.

How many times can you lose your home?

This is the question I ask myself as we are sitting in an improvised tent in the Bedouin village of Fasyail al-Wusta. The tent, if it can be called that, is equipped with a fan, but it does not succeed in fending off the extreme heat midday in the Jordan valley. It may not look like much to me, but this shelter is the home of two brothers and their families, and in total house 20 people. What will they do if they lose the shelter this provides?

In the last year, since June 2011, Abu Nahar and his brother Hussein Yassin have had their home demolished four times. Last week on the 24^th of May, the animal shelter housing 170 sheep and goats, was demolished. The deadline allowed to appeal to the court  expires on the 13^th of June, when the family expects the house to be demolished again. Abu Nahar says “we do not know if they will wait until then. It is no problem for the soldiers with the decision, they can come anytime.”

His has no hope in the lawyer representing their case in court, saying “he did not make any difference for us.”

“Really we are here in the middle, between two Palestinian villages, not close to any fields or to any settlements. With what do they want our land?” he says pointing out towards the slope of the mountains going down to the Jordan valley. Looking out in the direction there is no habitation, no water and no houses –just rock and sand.

The 60 Bedouin families are living between the two parts of the village of Fasayil. The upper part of the village, called Fasyil al-Fauqa is in Area C and the lower part, Fasayil al-Wusta in Area C. The area in question, has recently been claimed to be an archeological site, needed to be preserved for cultural purposes. Regardless of the existence of these archeological treasures, it is nonetheless against international humanitarian law to displaced the local population. Article 53 of the fourth Geneva Convention, states that: “Any destruction by the Occupying Power of real or personal property belonging individually or collectively to private persons, or to the State, or to other public authorities, or to social or cooperative organizations, is prohibited, except where such destruction is rendered absolutely necessary by military operations.”

UNOCHA recently released their annual report, which for 2012 is called Fragmented lives. One of the main issues raised is the increasing displacement of Palestinian Bedouins. During 2011 a total of 622 structures were demolished and 1094 people lost their homes. The family we are visiting is included in that number, but their personal account makes the problem much more real.

“Every time they come to execute a demolition they wait until after the children have gone to school.”

This I at first consider a sign of humanity, willingly sparing the children the trauma of seeing their house taken over by soldiers and then demolished to the ground. Yet Nahar seems to disagree: “At least if they could do it before the school starts, it would be good. Because now when our children come back from school, they don’t find our tent, and don’t know where to go.”

The older children, above the age of 16, work in the Israeli greenhouses next to the village. Despite all of their negative experiences with the Israeli military, they remain determined to distinguish between their employers and the soldiers. “Yes they are like farmers and good –not like the soldiers.” Their father however points out: “we are working for them, and they are destroying our homes.”

Tomer, the settlement growing grapes close to Fasyil, is using a lot of the land and water. It is a very visible difference between the Palestinian farms that are very dry, and the Israeli settlement farms that are flourishing and green. Meanwhile the Palestinian Bedouins are suffering from a lack of water, living under very dire conditions and under the threat of losing their livelihood and homes.

How many times can you lose your home before you lose hope? When do you stop seeing the good in your adversary, who is benefiting from your suffering?

When the WALL is closing in on you

Imagine a man who will be living surrounded by the wall, shut out from his village. Only a tunnel connects him to the others, and suddenly he is denied access to his land further down the hill. He is concerned about his two children who now will have more than double the distance to get to the school, although the school remains at a five minutes walking distance. This is the story of Omar, in the village of Al Walaja.

According to the map of the wall presented by UNOCHA in December 2011, there are many Palestinian villages isolated by the wall in the Bethlehem area. It states that: 

“The Barrier’s total length is approximately 708 km. 61.8% of the Barrier is complete; a further 8.2% is under construction and 30% is planned but not yet constructed. When completed, approximately 85% of its route will run inside the West Bank, isolating 9.4% of West Bank territory, including East Jerusalem and No-Man’s Land. On 9 July 2004, the International Court of Justice (ICJ) issued an advisory opinion which stated that the sections of the Barrier route which ran inside the West Bank, including East Jerusalem, violates Israel’s obligations under international law.”

(On a little side note: why are some saying the wall and others the barrier? According to the ruling of the ICJ, as referred to by UNOCHA the entire construction is referred to as the wall. The ICRC and the UN organizations refer to it as the barrier, a more vague term. Israel call it the security fence. As a Swedish EA I follow the term stipulated by the International Court of Justice, whilst the EAPPI is ruled by the World Council of Churches who has so far only agreed on the term the separation barrier.)

Claire Anastas, lives with her family in Bethlehem, surrounded by the wall on three sides. To the right of their house, on the opposite side of the wall is Rachel’s Tomb, and beyond that one of the three refugee camps in Bethlehem. The street outside their house is Hebron road, that before was the main road between Nablus and Hebron. Due to the important strategic position, strict military rules apply as the area is despite being in Bethlehem city, considered Area C.

“Not long ago we had a successful business here, on the main road of Bethlehem. People would come from Jerusalem, just to buy our organic crops, and repair their cars in my husband’s garage. Christians would visit our souvenir shop, and we had a good life. Now nobody comes here, and the coaches cannot pass, so there are no tourists, no business. Now we live in a cage, but we cannot leave.”

“My main problem is that my children have suffered a lot. They are afraid, and they often cry. Did you know that the wall was erected in just one day? My children went to school in the morning, and when they came back there was the wall. From my kitchen window, all you can see is the wall. The children feel suffocated, like the wall is blocking the sun and their freedom.  On TV they watch children playing football outside, they see Walt Disney, and they see that other children are happy.

“My oldest girl refuse to look at or speak about the wall, she turns away and stay silent. The other children are looking at it and the youngest said “Wow, it is here like a tomb!”What they need is hope, and as a mother I want them to have a future. I pray to God that they will one day remove the wall, that my children will see the horizon. I tell my children not to worry, that I am doing my best to ask the politicians, powerful men such as Tony Blair to help remove the wall. I sent a message to Tony Blair, I was on TV. This gives them a little bit of hope. But I don’t know what to do if it does not helps us.’

Leaving Claire’s house you see stories of the women in the area, of how they are affected by the wall, hung up on the wall between the checkpoint and the house. This is an attempt to give a voice to women, and it feels rather symbolic to have their testimonies visible on the nine meter tall wall. Yet what strikes you as you are walking is that you see no children playing, you hear no laughter.

The West Bank is a comparatively small area. The wall is cutting in, behind the green line, placing a large part of Palestinian land on the “other” side. After three months in Bethlehem, I realized I was used of not seeing the horizon. It started to feel like the wall was closing in around me. Imagine what it feels like if you cannot leave!

Claire's house is in front of the last piece of wall, straight ahead!

The German President Joachim Glauck visits the West Bank

Education and gender equality -in focus for the German President on the West Bank

Photo credit: Katarina Reigo/EAPPI

Girls’ scouts waving Palestinian and German flags stand in two neat lines at the entrance, and everything is very punctual. It is what I consider typically German, in its well organized structure and German rather than English is the language of the day. It is a formal event, with high security. One of my colleagues is asked to show that his camera is just in fact a camera, by using the zoom. I have to explain what my binoculars are for. Our German colleague is very proud of how well organized it all is, and looking forward to hearing her newly elected President remark on his visit.

Then the press takes over like a bunch of bees, making it impossible to view the entrance of the two key players. The German national anthem is played, followed by the Palestinian. Out of the two it is the Palestinian I actually know how to sing. The speeches commence, with an abundance of compliments, expressions of welcome and gratitude and titles, everything to be repeated in German. Meanwhile the young girls are left standing in the gazing sun, as the audience sit in the shade with their back to the Palestinian people.

“Building this school is a sign from all the world that they support Palestine as a free country” said the Palestinian Minister for Education. She went on to mention the settler violence, the recent burning of Palestinian wheat fields, and the lack of freedom of movement symbolized by the checkpoints. “We hope to be able to build schools like this in Gaza and Area C, and that you will help us to put pressure on Israel.”

Photo credit: Emmet Sheerin/EAPPI

Yet from the German President Mr Joachim Gauck, there was little mentioning of the Palestinian situation. He praised the beauty of the village of Burin, how pleasant it is to open a school and observed that it was great weather for the occasion. Then President Gauck concentrated on the importance of education and gender equality. “Strong, educated, intelligent girls, will become strong, educated, intelligent women. Women who will build up tomorrow’s society and foster democracy and equality.”

According to the second in command in Burin’s village council, the German President had been advised three times not to visit the terrorist village of Burin. From that point of view, it was a diplomatic sign of support that he went through with the visit. However the visit in itself only lasted less than an hour. The girls’ sang some songs, and played some basketball, before a ceremonial buffet of Palestinian food. The Mayor of Urif, a neighbouring village on the other side of the settlement Yizhar, is standing hoping for an opportunity to talk to the German President. He has said he would like to tell about the problems last Saturday when 180 dunams of land was burnt by settlers, under the protection of the Israeli soldiers. Yet that opportunity does not present itself.

Photo credit: Katarina Reigo/EAPPI

My colleague, Evi Handke, who is German, reflected on the visit:

“It was a nice speech, focusing on the importance of education and gender equality. It wasn’t political his speech, and I expected a political speech when he is coming Palestine. Because it is a horrible situation, it needs a political solution, and that requires political attention. The speech could over all have been written for anywhere else in the developing world, where you want to promote education and gender equality. Only some small points focused on Palestine, such as Palestine having the highest literacy rate in the Middle East. “

“He mentioned before he travelled to Israel, how important the relationship between Israel and Germany is. I did not expect him to make the same comment about Germany’s relationship to Palestine, but as a friend of Israel I assumed he would say more about the difficulties of the people. Because I think that a friend has to say the truth, especially as a friend you have to criticize, because your opinion and input will be valued much higher.”

As the German President Gauck, and Prime Minister Fayyad leave in a motorcade back to Ramallah, we remain with the Palestinians. In the background, on the opposite hill, so does the settlement of Yizhar. 

Photo credit: Katarina Reigo/ EAPPI