Words from Palestine

After spending a mere 48 hours in Hebron, I have to say I cannot come close to understanding what it is to live there for Palestinians. The city is a maze check points, razor wire, concrete barriers and houses encaged to guard against settler violence and vandalism. There are literally so many check points that I often became confused as to whether I was in the Palestinian side of the city or the Jewish side. Much of the city is abandoned so it is not easy to determine where you are by the people; there are none in parts- it is a city of ghost towns, and where the ghost towns turn into populated areas, there is often violence.
Hebron is home to the Ibrahimi Mosque, which houses the tombs of the biblical figures Abraham, Sarah, Isaac and Rebecca, patriarchs of both the Jewish and Islamic faiths. It is a fundamental monument to the rich history of both religions, and as such it is intricate to the heritage of both faiths. It is also a microcosm of the Apartheid in Hebron.
Hebron came under the control of the Israeli Occupation Forces after the Six Day War in 1967. After that, Jewish settlers, many of them extremists, began taking over the properties of Palestinians. While 81 % of the Mosque theoretically remains under the control of the waqf (the trust that controls Muslim religious sites) it is surrounded and controlled by the IOF. Like the Dome of the Rock and al Aqsa Mosque, the Israeli Occupation Forces control who is allowed to enter the Ibrahimi Mosque.
An example of their disrespect for the Mosque occurred when I and other IWPS members went to visit the historic monument. There are many checkpoints around the Mosque. Jews are allowed access through some of them, Muslims through others. Tourists are generally allowed access through all the checkpoints, though non Muslim women are not generally allowed into mosque. We attempted to enter through the Muslim checkpoint. We asked the soldiers if it was OK for us to enter, and one said, “Sure, I don’t care.” We were surprised. As we entered through the checkpoint, a Muslim man told us that only men were allowed into that part of the Mosque during this time of the day. As we exited the checkpoint, one of the soldiers said, “It is some kind of holiday they are having” and another said, “See how they are.” Actually, we unknowingly attempted to enter the Mosque during prayer time and the “some kind of holiday” is Ramadan, the holiest month of the year for Muslims. The soldiers had to have known this. But it seems they purposely chose to disrespect the tradition of the Muslims by allowing us entrance.
Then we walked around to another checkpoint. We were asked if we were Christians. It seemed that we had to say yes to gain entrance so we all agreed we were Christians. We were granted entry and found ourselves in the midst of a Jewish wedding. Some of the wedding guests were armed with machine guns.
We went into the Ibrahimi Mosque. The Mosque is partitioned off and we are now on the “Jewish” side of the Muslim religious center. There are the tombs of Abraham, Sarah, Isaac and Rebecca. The tombs are decorated with beautiful Arabic scripts from the Quran. Ultra conservative Jews have built a library and Jewish study center next to them. Muslims are not allowed access to this area. In the other half of the Mosque, Jews are not allows to enter. We take in the beauty and the profound history of the ground we stand on, then exit, finding ourselves again the midst of the Jewish wedding. Our pro-Palestinian t-shirts get some dirty looks, but we are not harassed. The wedding was a joyful sight to see, regardless that the bride and groom along with their families and guests are no doubt colonists of land stolen from the Palestinians. Their machine guns are evidence to this.
We share a cold drink and watch as the groom and his entourage meet with the bride and her entourage. They dance with their machine guns on their backs.
It is starting to get dark so we start our journey back through the city to the Christian Peacemaker Team apartment. We walk though the ghost town. We cross check points between the Jewish section and the Palestinian section. I am still not sure when I am in one or the other.
We arrive back to the apartment to find out the military had closed off this area of town. They were practicing breaking into Palestinian businesses. Several of businesses on our street had been broken into.

We are spending 2 days in Hebron, with Christian Peacemaker Team. The level of hostility is very high in the city, but the peace in the house overcomes it. As I write a man with a beautiful voice is singing and playing the lute, a stark contrast to the razor wire and military checkpoints that surround this house.
But I think readers of this blog already know about the violence the Palestinians endure from the settlers and the Israeli Occupation Forces. I want to tell about another side of Hebron.

I had read in a local Palestine newspaper that the only place where kaffiyas are made in Palestine is a factory in Hebron. They have almost been put out of business by cheap Chinese imports but they continue to do enough business to keep their doors open and their looms running. When I read about it and shared the story with the rest of the team we all wanted to visit.

After asking about the location of the factory at the Woman’s Cooperative of Hebron‘s old city, promising to come back and visit them before we left Hebron, we were escorted by a young man to the factory. When we arrived all the looms were shut down and a couple workers were sitting in front of fans in a dusty combination office/retails space. It is Ramadan and by the middle of the afternoon people are exhausted and very thirsty from the fast. However, once the workers realized we had come to show solidarity with their “economic” resistance to the occupation, they livened up and turned the looms on so they could show us how the kaffiyas are made

Soon, the factory was humming with the sound of looms running, turning spools of thread in black, white, red and every color of the rainbow into beautiful kaffiyas representing various nations and tribes. Of course the traditional Palestinian kaffiya is black and white, but the company makes many different colors- red and white are more popular for Jordanians, black red and white are Hamas or communist, multi colored pastels are traditional among the Bedouins, etc. They also make a pure white kaffiya which I particularly liked.

The mechanical weaving is amazing. Large spools of thread, sometimes one color, sometimes many colors, feed the looms through a maze of mechanisms that weave the threads into the base of the many threads that make up the waft. As the material is woven and the base pattern created a designer stands at the loom and cuts threads to form the particular pattern desired.

 

After the material is completed, it is cut to size and the hand work begins. Women do the finishing, sewing the edges and applying the decorative touches of fringe around the sides and sometimes pom-poms to the corners.

None of this would be so interesting in any manufacturing country. However, this is the Occupied Palestinian Territories and the Israeli Occupation with its never ending violence, checkpoints, night raids and illegal detentions make everything difficult, including the operation of any sort of business. However, this business is keeping its doors open and a symbol of Palestine alive-the traditional kaffiya.

(pictures and video coming soon)
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I spent the night in the Occupied Old City and was delighted and honored to witness the both the physical hardship as well as the celebration of Ramadan. During the month of Ramadan, Muslims refrain from any food or water (and tobacco) from sunrise to sunset. As this year Ramadan falls during the hottest month of the year, this is surely a hardship. By midday people are thirsty! Hungry as well, but thirst predominates. And many Palestinians smoke, nerves are on edge from many fronts. However, the fast of Ramadan is their faith and is part of their upbringing. They begin participating around 10 years of age.

But Ramadan a month of sacrifice. It is 28 days of sacrifice. The nights are celebration of the day spent in sacrifice. The Old City is strung from end to end (except in the Jewish Quarter) with lights such as Christians put out for Christmas. All during the day, special foods are prepared at home or sold in the markets for the breaking of the fast. There are special drinks to replenish electrolytes and give energy. There are special sweets baked in place of the usual foods sold in street kiosks.
As evening approaches, Damascus Gate is transformed from a place where people hock their wares to an outdoor café, with the special Ramadan foods sold as well as coffee (that is what I wanted!) and hundreds of Hookahs shared at special kiosks. Families come to the grounds around Damascus Gate for picnicking in the cooler evening air. As sundown draws nearer, more and more people are milling about, all waiting for the evening call to prayer the marks the end of the day’s fast.
Then there is several hours of eating, drinking (no alcohol, of course) and smoking. Then thousands of Muslims make their way to the Mosque to listen to the Qur’an being read and to pray. Unlike Easter in the Old City (which was anything but prayerful!) the evening is orderly and peaceful.

For many, the celebration lasts throughout the night. People stay up until the call to prayer at about 4am, which means (for those who are sleeping) to get up and eat before sunrise. For those who remain awake through the night, it means a final bit of food before getting a little sleep prior to the days activities.

As I was sitting in the grass near Damascus gate I was given to think on the way that these days of Ramadan in some way mimic the lives of the Palestinians under occupation. They are celebrating their steadfast commitment to their religion and the religion of their ancestors. And they are celebrating their personal strength to withstand the long hot day without food or water. The hardship of the fast is juxtaposed by the night of celebration.

The hardship of the occupation is juxtaposed by the Palestinian non-violent resistance to the theft of their land, their displacement from the land of their ancestors, and the trampling of their human rights, Their love of life begets their steadfast refusal to allow anything to get in their way of living it to the fullest.

I must note that I cannot speak for religion which I am not a part of, nor can I adequately relate the mind of the Palestinians who suffer the brutal Israeli Occupation. These are just thoughts that came to mind as a witness.

About one week ago we received a call in the middle of the night that a young man had been arrested by the Israeli secret police, the Mossad. We went to the family home to be a presence to them and to gather facts in the case. When we arrived at the family home, accompanied by the Mayor of our village, we found the entire family in a state of despair. This was a partly due to the fact that the young man who was arrested had already served 2 years in prison without having committed any crime.
The facts relevant to this incident are thus: the young man was given a summons several weeks ago to appear before to the Massad for questioning. Since his release from prison he has been in University and had his final exams on the day he was to appear before the Mossad. He telephoned the number given on the summons and explained that he would not be at the inquiry due to his exams. His family told us he was told he would be given another date for questioning.
However, instead of being given another date, he was detained in the middle of the night. Three military jeeps and a Mossad vehicle came to his family home at about 11:30 in the night. He was not at home. By all accounts in an act of barbaric cruelty, they detained his frail 70 year old father in one of the waiting jeeps until he returned home. This was done in the presence of his wife, daughters, and 7 small grandchildren. The son was at a friends house; his mother phoned him and he returned immediately, though it took him half and hour to get home and all the while his ailing father was detained. Once the young man out returned home and gave himself over to the secret police, the father was released.

The father recounted to us, tearfully, how both his sons were taken away several years ago and held for two years in an Israeli Occupation Prison. He still remembers the night the soldiers came for them, surrounding the home and shooting live ammunition into the air, terrorizing the entire family. It was plain to IWPS team members that this family has endured a considerable amount of traumitization by the arrests and imprisonments of their sons. Tonight seemed to bring back those haunting experiences, which never really leave one’s mind, but rather lurk in the background of one’s thoughts only to resurface at instances of distress.

We sat with the family for a couple of hours, gathering as many facts as we would to begin in inquiry into the detention as soon as possible. Sometimes we, with our international status, are able to find out where the detainee is being held. And though the family cannot even apply to see their imprisoned children for at least 12 days, it helps them emotionally to know where they are at.
Fortunately, this story has a happy ending.

The young man was released later that night. He is back at home with his family. And while I would like to say all is now well with the young man and his family, I have to be realistic. His family was traumitize by the military coming into their home, taking the father hostage under the threat of their machine guns, and then arresting the son, all in sight of seven young children. They will not forget this night, as the father has not forgotten the night his son was taken away and not seen again for two years.

A few days ago we visited with friends in the village of Mas’ha. As with most of the villages in the Salfit region where we are based, illegal settlements encroach on the village lands and military barriers restrict the normal flow of movement around the villages.

Mas’ha is no exception, but what it something of an exception is the house of our friends, Munira and her family. There home, which they have lived in for 36 years, is on the edge of the village. Munira recounted that some years ago, a single Israeli settler moved a trailer next to her home. The settler family was friendly. Their trailer was not yet hooked up to electricity and Munira’s husband, Hani, ran an electric cable to them so they would have lights at night. Then more settlers came and Israel set up utilities for them. The settlers distanced themselves from the villagers of Mas’ha and Israel began constructing a part of the Apartheid wall between the village and the illegal settlement.

Click here to watch and listen to Video’s and a Slideshow of Munira’s home

Through an act of the most heinous cruelty, the Wall was constructed between the village and the home of Munria’s family. There is the village of Mas’ha, then the wall, then Munira’s home, then an 8 meter security fence, then the settlement. A military road runs in front of Munira’s home where formally her farmland stood. Her home is entirely surrounded by fence and wall.


Fences surrounding the Home

For three years she and her family could not leave their “prison” unless soldiers opened the one gate that leads into Mas’ha. She recounted that when as her children reached the age to go to kindergarten, they had to wait at the gate for soldiers to let them through. Sometimes the soldiers would let them wait for houes before opening the gait, oftentimes driving by and seeing them but ignoring their need to pass though the gate. After 3 years, with the help of IWPS, Munira was given a single key the gate (she now has 2 keys). When her children or other guests come to visit, they must call her and ask her to come and open the gate for them. She also told us the soldiers regularly come and take their keys for days at a time (for no reason), thus eliminating their ability to move in and out of their home. Villagers rarely visit with them as the setting is quite uncomfortable. Settlers on one side, a military base on another, a wall directly in front of their home, and 3 sets of barbed wire fences make their home, virtually, a prison. The family is lovely, but the setting is sinister. To add tp the family’s misery, the settlers frequently harass and endanger them. They shout obscenities, throw stones at their home, spray chemicals on their garden and damage their property.

We visited for a bit inside the home, very modest due to their imprisonment which makes work very difficult, then sat outside in the “garden,” a shaded area that faces the wall. Several years ago IWPS brought a group of children to paint a mural on the wall so the family would have something pretty to look at. The mural is pretty, but unfinished. As the children were painting, the military came along and order them out.

Children’s Paintings on the Walls around the Home”

As we were sitting in the garden, Munira’s 12 y/o son called. He was retuning from a friends house. Munira got the key and passed it to one of her teenage daughters who went to the military gate and let the boy in. Soon after, we took our leave. Munira accompanied us to the gate to open the door for us. We said our goodbyes and made out way to the taxi waiting for us some distance from the gait. Automobiles aren’t allowed too close to the gait, making access to Munira’s home just a little bit more difficult than it already is.
We were, as is often the case, silent on our way home. What words are there to speak about the unspeakable acts human beings are able to commit against one another. Munira gave the first settler in her village her own electricity, seeing not a Zionist settler but a human being in need. She has been repaid by harrassement, isolation from family and friends, and a home enclosed by prison walls.

On Wednesday, July 28 2 IWPS volunteers responded to an invitation by EAPPI members in the village of Yanoun to visit an exhibit of children’s photography . Having little knowledge of the village and its history, we were taken aback by the apparent desolation of the village as well as its vulnerability. It is surrounded by Israeli Occupation Forces encampments and the extremist ideological settlement of Itamar. According to EAPPI members, settlers from Itamar come into the village 4 to 6 times a week, toting machine guns and menacing the residents.

While the villagers grow wheat, vegetables and olives (they press their own olive oil!), their main source of subsistence is animal husbandry. They have sheep, goats and chickens. They make cheese and have milk and eggs which they sell in Acraba, a village about 6 kilometers away. They also make bread, but follow the traditional Palestinian lore of bread. Bread is never to be sold, nor thrown away. It is sacred, given only as a gift
Sadly, the land they are able to access is shrinking on a monthly basis. The Itamar settlers , whom even the IOF appear to fear, threaten the villagers away from their grazing areas by patrolling village land with machine guns and other deadly weapons. The villagers have suffered much violence from the settlers, yet themselves have a strict policy of non-violence. When settlers appear with their weapons in hand, the villagers, whether they be grazing their animals or tending their farmland, simply move back toward the village center. The settlers patrol closer and closer to the village center, thus the villagers lose more of their land.
The village is separated into “upper” Yanoun and “lower” Yanoun by about 10 acres of farmland and Olive trees. There are less than 100 people who remain in the village. A few live in upper Yanoun, which is most vulnerable to settler intrusion, so most in live lower Yanoun. The village was completely depopulated in 1992 by settlers. A small number of villagers returned after an international presence was established there, first by IWPS and then by EAPPI.

Recently, there has been an organized effort on the part of settlers across the West Bank to intimidate and provoke Palestinians. This effort has included going in large groups of 100 or more to pray inside and at the entrance to Palestinian villages, as well as to burn Palestinian lands and Olive trees. Yanoun was not left behind in the effort. Settlers burned about 2 acres of land, including a few Olive trees. However, in a twist of irony, the wind changed direction and the fire started burning toward the illegal settlement houses, necessitating the settlers to put it out

I and my team mate spent most of the day in the village. It is situated on a hillside just west of the Jordan valley plain; The view is spectacular. From upper Yanoun you can see for miles across the ancient valley. I felt there was something sacred about the land I was sitting on and looking across. We discussed the ways we dealt (personally) with recognizing the humanity of the settlers and soldiers without excusing their behavior. It is a constant struggle to see those who commit the atrocities we witness as human beings worthy of compassion. But it is imperative we are able to do so, lest we become consumed with resentment and other negative emotions that make our work as peace activists less effective.

As I write, we have are making plans to visit Yanoun again. However, we will not be visiting Yanoun to demonstrate. We will be going back to Yanoun simply to be a non-violent presence in the midst of some of the ugliest forms of violence I have witnessed in the West Bank.

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We have a new volunteer and was giving her a tour of the village and introducing her to some of the villagers. We stopped at the balidyia (the municipality building) and was offered tea by the mayor. While having our short visit, he received a phone call from someone in the front of the village that Israeli Occupation Forces had entered the village. We immediately went out to monitor the situation.
Villagers directed us to where the IOF was. There were 3 jeeps and about 12 soldiers. They drove around the village and parked at the entrance of a boy’s school where summer camp is being held. While the soldiers from one of the jeeps entered the summer camp, fully armed, the other two jeeps parked at the square just outside the school. Soldiers stood outside of their jeeps with machine guns in hand. The soldiers were in the school for about 10 minutes. IWPS volunteers attempted to enter the summer camp but were not allowed to pass the army jeeps. So instead we started taking photos.

After leaving the summer camp, the jeeps drove down the main street and stopped at a shop where we often buy our fruits and vegetables. The jeeps blocked the street and four soldiers entered the shop while the others were out of their jeeps blocking pedestrians, machine guns in hand. At this point the soldiers told IWPS volunteers to stop taking photos and demanded we stay some distance away from them. There were children playing all around. One IWPS member asked a soldier what the problem was. The soldier responded there was no problem. To this the IWPS replied that having machine guns around small children was a problem.

They were in the shop for 5 to 10 minutes before coming out, then drove away out of our village toward the direction of a neighboring village, Kifl Haris . Shop keepers later told us that soldiers were asking them general questions about problems in the village while other village residents told us that the soldiers were asking them about village economy and unemployment.
The same three jeeps came back into the village after a short while. They again drove down the main street and stopped in the middle of the village. There was a truck in the village center delivering the monthly rations of food given to the Palestinians. Sacks of flower, rice and lentils along with large jugs of cooking oil were being given out. The bags were marked USAID. It is a sad irony that aid from the United States is both feeding the people of Palestine as well as fueling the occupation that starves their body and eats away at their spirit.

It seems apparent to me that this incursion was an act geared toward normalizing the occupation. They want villagers to think it is normal for heavily armed soldiers to come into a village, block roads and harass people. They want the children of Palestine to think that Zionists who have come to steal their land are their friends. Though thankfully, there were not arrests or injuries from this army incursion, I found this action of the Israeli Occupation Forces one of the most insidious forms of the Zionist Occupation.

As we have been very busy with our work on the ground there hasn’t been time to keep up with writing about it! However, today will, hopefully, afford some time to give readers information on what has been happening with IWPS in Palestine.

On July 10 we joined Palestinians and other internationals at the weekly Saturday demonstration in the village of Iraq Burin, protesting the theft of village land and water by Zionist settlers . This is the same village where 2 young Palestinians were executed during a demonstration on March 20, 2010.

The village of Iraq Burin is situated on what I can best describe as the cliff of a high mountain. One has to see it to appreciate the spectacular geography. There is only one road leading up to the village and the Israeli Occupation Forces (IOF) had set up a road block at the beginning of the incline to the village. Palestinians asked us to accompany them to a demonstration at this roadblock. We were informed that the village had been declared a “closed military zone” and we would not be able to enter the village for the demonstration.

We met in Nablus and traveled the short distance to the road block in a big pink bus with about 50 Palestinians and internationals. We attempted to pass the road block but were threatened with arrest so we held a peaceful rally and sit in on the road for about 2 hours.
Afterwards, most of the demonstrators returned to Nablus but I and my team mate bypassed the road block by moving out of site of the soldiers and walking up the mountain. Several other activists had already done the same, and they assisted us in staying on a rough donkey path via cell phones. However, the terrain was extremely difficult and we lost the path about three quarters way up the mountain. Nonetheless, we made it (a bit winded and dehydrated!) to the village in time for the demonstration.

As we accompanied the villagers down through their land toward the spring that they have used for agriculture and potable water for hundreds of years and are now denied access to, we were met with a considerable amount of tear gas from the IOF.

The land is very dry now and tear gas canisters caused a brush fire which villagers had to put out amidst being fired at with more tear gas. One young man was injured, either by falling on the rugged terrain or being hit by a tear gas canister. He was carried away from the scene but later was walking on his own. Other than that there were no serious injuries.

The IOF maintained the checkpoint through out the day. We were prepared to spend the night in the village if the villagers felt threatened, but they were calm and didn’t feel an international presence was required.
The previous week 3 internationals were arrested as they left the village through the main road, so we left the village the same way we entered, down the donkey path.

When I first came to Palestine with IWPS, our house was located in the village of Hares. IWPS had set up it’s house there because at the time there were numerous army incursions, arrests, and curfews and other human rights violations. Among those was the shooting of Issa Souf, who was paralyzed from the waist down and will spend the rest of his days in a wheelchair. We went to Hares to visit friends there and to get an update on the situation in the village as we had heard there were demolition orders for several homes there.

( a quick recap on the circumstances of the shooting of Issa Souf… There was an IDF incursion into the village of Hares during the first Intifada. Issa was at home with his wife, pregnant with twins, and their 18 month old son. Soldiers came to their home… Issa his his wife and child in bedroom, telling her not to worry, he would see to the demands of the soldiers. He was unarmed. For a reason unknown, they shot him in the back, resulting in the paralysis.)

We met with Issa , his lovely wife and their three children. Issa is an amazing man. He has learned various meditation practices to help him deal with both his disability and the continual abuse he and his family endure under the occupation. I would describe his manner as calm strength. He related to us the difficulties he faces due to his paralysis, and how life under occupation escalates these difficulties. When bound to a wheel chair, pressure sores are always a concern so one had to change positions on a regular basis. It is not uncommon for him to be held up at checkpoints for hours, which endangers his health and causes pressure sores. For himself, he has no fear of the military; he laughs at their shouting and machine guns. But his concern for his wife and children is grave.

He related that several weeks ago he went to the Wadi Qani valley with his family. It was a cool day and they remained in the car, just enjoying the beauty of valley. He said he felt as though he and the nature surrounding him were one. Suddenly, soldiers were surrounding their car, pointing machine guns at all of them and demanding they get out of their vehicle. For himself, he was not afraid and in his mind he was laughing at them. But his children were terrified. This is their life under Israeli Occupation. Of course he was unable to exit his car due to his paralysis. When he showed them the documents he carries that describes his paralysis, they allowed the family to remain in their car, but they made them leave the valley… a valley that belongs to the people of Palestine.

Then we discussed the current situation in Hares. There are currently 5 teenagers who have been arrested and sentenced to 3-9 months in Israeli prisons. By Israeli law their families are allowed to visit them. However, in reality only the mothers of the boys are allowed to visit. Fathers and siblings are considered “security” risks. As well, it is an arduous journey to the prison. The mothers must go through a complicated process of securing Israeli documentation for travel to the prison, and the travel must be coordinated through the Red Cross. Once at the prison, mothers can only speak to their sons via a telephone with a glass window separating them. My team mate asked Issa if the mothers visited their children despite such hardship. “Of course” he replied, “how can a mother not visit her child!”

We also asked about the demolition orders we had heard about. Issa has 9 brothers, all whom own homes in Hares. However, the names on the deeds to all the properties is that of their father. The IDF presented demolition orders on at least 3 of the houses but the orders did not specify which houses were under demolition order. The papers gave them 3 days to appeal, which they did, hiring a lawyer to fight against demolition. The lawyer was clear that they would lose if they went to court, so his strategy is simply to delay the demolitions.
Let me make very clear the heinous nature of these orders. There are 10 families whose houses may be demolished with (hopefully) a 24 hour notice. Twenty four hours to remove all the possession you are able, everything that may be precious to you. Since the order is for 3 of the houses owned in name by Issa’s father., none of the families know which of the 10 homes are included in the order. There is no way to know how long the lawyer will be able to stall the orders.

The families wait in dread, while Issa sits in his wheelchair, laughing at the military who can do no more harm to them than they have already done. He said, “ they have the law of force, and the Palestinians have the force of law.
Unfortunately the force of law will not save the homes to be demolished, nor will it release the boys being held in the Israeli prison.

Today my team mate and I went to the weekly demonstration at Nabi Salih. It took us almost twice as long to reach the village as the roads leading in were blocked off. We are not sure why, but it appeared they were blocked due to toad work. The narrow, winding back roads took us through picturesque villages and gave us a view of the centuries old olive groves terracing the mountainside.
We arrived early enough to have coffee and tea with our precious friends of the village. Unfortunately there are few internationals on the ground in Palestine at the time, but there were a good number of Israeli activists and press to witness and document the events of the day.

After midday prayers, the march toward the fields began, which was already seen to be an impossibility as soldiers have set up a road block in the village . The march consisted of almost entirely young children, women and elder men of the village. It was a peaceful march with children leading, carrying a banner, waving Palestinian flags and chanting slogans in Arabic and English. As the women and children , press and a few male adults led the march the Israeli Occupation forces fired sound bombs and tear gas at the children. Nagee grabbed his 3 year old son in his arms and approached the soldiers, asking them why they were firing on little children.

Nagee was immediately thrown into a military jeep along with his 3 year old son. He was handcuffed and he and his son were in the jeep with machine guns pointed at them for 10-15 minutes. Nagee’s pre-teen daughter came to the scene and was allowed to take her little brother out of custody. At this point, Nagee was taken away and held at the old British fort in Hallamish, the settlement that has expropriated the land of Nabi Salih. My team mate and I did not witness this occurrence.

As the march continued, my team mate and I skirted the main road to get on the other side of the line of soldiers. We were able to get a good view of what was happening and joined the other protesters (again mostly children) when 2 Israeli activists were arrested for an unknown reason.

By this time soldiers had completely surrounded the village. We returned to the village square; there were no further arrests and the soldiers had stopped violent action against the civilian villagers. After we felt assured the children and other villagers were safe we returned to our friend’s house to find out that Nagee had been arrested and his little boy had been held at gunpoint until his young sister got him out of the jeep. We immediately started making phone calls to the authorities to find out where Nagee was being held. While we were making phone calls , Nagee phoned his wife and said that was being released; she went to pick him up and there was great relief in all of us. .

His coming home was a joyful reason for family and friend to visit and hear his story, He said he was held in hancuffs for the entire time he was detained . The welts on his writs confirmed this. However, the happy ending was that he was released and safe at home with his family for the time being. Family and friends gathered at Nagee and Bushra’s home and celebrated his release with comraderie and a delicious feast. Fortunately, there were no reported injuries and, in comparison with other Friday demonstrations, violence on the part of the Occupation Forces was minimal.