Blog 37

Final Blog

Tomorrow I catch the Service to the Allenby Bridge and on into Jordan – so

to all those that choose not to look the other way.

Best

G.


Some resources:-

Adalah – (http://www.adalah.org/eng/index.php)

An independent Israeli NGO helping Arab Israeli citizens achieve equal rights.

Addameer - (http://www.addameer.org/index_eng.html)

Based in Ramallah, an independent Palestinian NGO supporting political prisoners and works to end torture in the Occupied Territories.

Al-Haq - (http://www.alhaq.org/)

Based in Ramallah, Al-Haq was one of the first human rights organizations established in the Arab world.

Al-Muqtafi – (http://www.muqtafi.com)

Amnesty International - (http://www.amnesty.org/)


Arab Association for Human Rights –(http://www.arabhra.org/core/hcredu.htm)

Arab Human Rights Index – (http://arabhumanrights.org/en/)

B’Tselem - (http://www.btselem.org/English/index.asp)

B’Tselem is the Israeli Information Centre for Human Rights in the Occupied Territories and was established in 1989 by a group of prominent academics, attorneys, journalists and Knesset members. It endeavours to document and educate the Israeli public and policymakers about human rights violations in the Occupied Territories, combat the phenomenon of denial prevalent among the Israeli public and help create a human rights culture in Israel.

Birzeit University, Institute of Law –(http://lawcentre.birzeit.edu/)

Breaking the Silence - (http://www.shovrimshtika.org/index_e.asp)

Israeli soldiers who have served as part of the occupying force, speak out.

BDS – Boycott Israel - (http://www.bds-palestine.net/)

Practical steps anybody can take.

Human Rights Watch - (http://www.hrw.org/)

International Committee of the Red Cross - (http://www.icrc.org/eng)

Useful reports and legal resources.

Israel/Palestine Centre for Research and Information – (http://www.ipcri.org/)

IPCR is the only joint Palestinian-Israeli public policy thing-tank in the world, based in Jerusalem.

MidEast Web – (www.mideastweb.org/index.html)

MidEast Web was started by people active in Middle East dialog and peace education efforts. Their goal is to weave a world-wide web of Arabs, Jews and others who want to build a new Middle Ease based on coexistence and neighbourly relations. Their members and staff include distinguished educators, engineers, Web designers and other professionals experienced in dialogue, peace education projects and in promoting dialogue and coexistence using the internet.

Palestinian Centre for Human Rights – (http://www.pchrgaza.org/)

Gaza based organization which enjoys Consultative Status with the ECOSOC of the United Nations.

Rights International – (www.rightsinternational.org/)

Rights International Research Guide for International Human Rights Lawyers.

United Nations - (http://www.un.org/)

Useful reports, in particular see the Special Rapporteur for the Occupied Territories.

Blog 36

Return to Jenin –

Almond blossom, checkpoint hopping and an execution.

It’s 9.00 am in central Ramallah on a beautiful sunny warm day. I search for a Service that will take me back to Jenin, the most northerly and troubled West Bank town, and the place where the Occupation is probably its most brutal.

Jehan’s brother will meet me on arrival – it’s probably best not to arrive unknown and unannounced in Jenin – the IDF regularly sends in undercover execution squads so the locals can be cautious of strangers. I’m going to Jenin to interview AF who has recently been released from two and a half years of administrative detention.

As soon as the Service has its full complement of nine we ease through the bustling Ramallah streets and onto the highway north. Along the way we pass through four checkpoints and our ID’s are checked at one. “An Australian? Who's the Australian?” Asks the soldier. He comes up to my window and asks what I’m doing in the West Bank? “Oh, traveling around” I respond blandly. “Travel around Tel Aviv and Jerusalem, but why here, do you have family or friends here?” – “No”, I respond, “just traveling around” – “Well good luck” he replies, with a somewhat mystified look on his face. I get the impression he is more concerned about my safety than anything else. He seems unable to comprehend why a non- Arab would be traveling in a Service going to Jenin. A little fear goes along way in this part of the world. As we pull away the woman next to me invites me to have coffee with her when we arrive in Jenin as I don’t appear to know anybody. I thank her but explain that I’m meeting with people – “Ah” she says, “for the soldiers?” -“Yes, for the soldiers.” We both smile and nod. Well, it is an illegal occupation, the very least one can do is be bland.

Jehan’s brother meets me on arrival at 11.30 am. We chat as we walk along the crowded streets. Apparently an IDF undercover execution squad was in town two hours earlier, doing what they do. One dead, apparently no attempt whatsoever to apprehend the man – an old fashion street execution.

We meet AF in a shop with his little boy who is surprisingly clingy and nervous. We jump in a taxi and head for AF’s home in the Jenin refugee camp (see Blog 12). We’re met at AF’s home by a woman who will translate for us. Over the next hour and half AF tells me how he was detained in May 2004 in a mass round up in the camp and how his heart broke every time his detention order was renewed, over and over again. How he missed his wife and five children and how his wife and two youngest children were only allowed to visit him twice (for half an hour on each occasion) in the 32 months he was detained in the Negev desert, Israel. The prison authorities only permitted three persons to visit at a time – most detainees are visited by their youngest children in the hope that they don’t forget their father. The clingy little boy did forget his father and was very angry with the man who returned home on 25 January, 2007. It looks like they’ve re-established the bond now but he’s none too keen on strangers.

AF was a journalist who wrote for the Jenin Study Centre, which was accused of having links with a banned organization – for that he received 32 months of administrative detention. AF has never been charged or tried with any offence relating to his period of detention.

One thing you quickly learn in Palestine is that once invited into somebody’s house, rich or poor, you will be served tea, coffee and probably a meal. Over lunch I ask AF if there is anything else he would like to tell me. He says:

“Why isn’t the international community concerned with this injustice? Detainees are transported for up to 60 hours in order to stand before the court at Ofer for one minute, hands and feet shackled, and told they will be detained for the next six months for nothing. Why can’t anybody stop these arrests?”

I deflect the question because I can’t give him a meaningful answer and so ask him about his wife. AF’s face immediately lights up and a huge smile spreads across his tanned face –

“She is the best woman in the world, she keeps me strong; it was the thought of her that kept me going in prison. She makes me a good man.”

Over lunch the translator tells me how tough life is in the camp and how many men have been killed recently by the IDF –

“But it is through suffering that the strongest friendships are made – if I help my brother when he is suffering, then we are bound together forever.”

We part after lunch and I meet up with Jehan’s brother who finds me a Service heading back to Ramallah. On the trip back I’m daydreaming in the sun thinking about the morning and how beautiful the green hills are, carpeted in red poppies and almond trees in blossom. It suddenly occurs to me that the road is very narrow and bumpy and bears very little resemblance to the highway we came on. My suspicions are confirmed when we leave the road altogether and start heading across open farmland. I look at the man next to me, he shrugs, we smile. For the next 20 minutes we meander across fields passing four other Services coming in the other direction – we slow down so that the drivers can update each other about checkpoints. Putting two and two together it’s apparent that perhaps some of us have “ID issues”.

For the next couple of hours we zig-zag across the West Bank by-passing the nasty checkpoint closest to Jenin. If we had come back via the highway we would have been stopped at four checkpoints – this way we only passed one checkpoint 10 km from Ramallah and the traffic was such a mess we were just waved through – somebody is probably breathing a little easier tonight.

Another memorable Palestinian kind of day – and it’s only tea time.

(p.s. I've scratched around and added a few photos to some of the blogs)

Blog 35

"Should I allow myself to dream of release or not? Should I risk the pain? "

In 2002, during his last year in high school, TW was arrested, interrogated, charged and imprisoned for membership of the PFLP. He was held and interrogated for 28 days before he was allowed to see a lawyer. He was sentenced to 24 months but was released after 13 months.

Arrest

On his release in March 2003, TW enrolled as a psychology student at Birzeit University, near Ramallah and worked as a waiter to support himself. In January 2004 a new Israeli military commander was appointed to the area, Captain Dudu. The Captain made it his business to interview as many Palistinian political activists in his area as he could. On 12 January, 2004, it was TW's turn to be interviewed, he recalls the Captain saying to him:

“You’ll be seeing us around and you will know what administrative detention is.”

On 23 October, 2004 at 1.00 in the morning, 12 IDF jeeps pulled up outside the home TW shared with his parents, four brothers and two sisters near Birzeit. The soldiers came equipped with attack dogs and ordered the family out of the house, including TW’s three year old sister. The soldiers asked the boys to produce their ID cards whilst other soldiers with dogs entered the house. Captain Dudu was present:

“who of you should I arrest?” asked the Captain.

“You can’t ask me this” replied TW.

“I think I will take R” came the response.

R is TW’s younger brother, who at the time was 16 years old. TW objected and the Captain said:

“Well, I’ll take you then, say goodbye to your family.”

TW was taken over to the jeeps by the soldiers, handcuffed with plastic ties and blindfolded. TW believes he was taken to the settlement of Beit Il, one of the biggest Israeli settlements in the West Bank. He thinks that there were two other Palestinians in the back of the jeep, two soldiers and a dog. Although blindfolded, he could see down towards the floor.

On arrival, they were taken out of the jeep and made to sit on the ground for about three hours. During this time TW recalls that a group of soldiers stood nearby laughing and taking photographs. After about three hours a small plastic chair was brought for him to sit on until it got light. He was again placed in the back of a jeep and taken to Binyamin detention centre, Ofer. He was again made to sit on the ground for about one and half hours before being taken inside for processing. His name was registered and his personal belongings taken from him. Once processed he was assigned a tent with other detainees.

Administrative detention

After five days TW was issued with a six month administrative detention order. Two days later he was brought before the military “court” at Ofer and the order was confirmed during the five minute hearing. He was accused of being:

“A political activist at Birzeit and Ramallah.”

The main political activities that TW had been engaging in were:

-Distributing a newsletter at the campus informing students that political prisoners had commenced a hunger strike and keeping them updated with developments.

-A number of students, including TW, erected a tent on campus and launched their own hunger strike for seven days in solidarity with the prisoners.

-Presenting a sketch about a typical interrogation to teach students how they should handle being interrogated.

-Distributing a flyer developed by the Palestinian NGO, Addameer entitled “Know your rights” informing students of their rights if detained.

-Showing solidarity with the families of detainees.

TW spent the first month of his detention at the Ofer detention centre. After a month there were heavy rains and the tents that they lived in leaked. The detainees protested and they were moved to Naqab detention centre in the Negev desert, Israel. They were again housed in tents but the desert climate is dryer.

TW decided not to appeal his administrative detention order because at this time the detainees were boycotting the courts in protest of the system. He was fairly confident that his detention order would not be renewed after the first six months as there was nothing in his file which would warrant such action. TW’s administrative detention order was renewed:

First order (six months);
Second order (six months);
Third order (six months);
Fourth order (six months, reduced to four);
Fifth order (4 months, reduced to one).

New charges

At the end of the fifth detention order TW was taken back to Ofer for further interrogation. An Israeli man in civilian clothes, who said he was a policeman, showed him a list of names of students at Birzeit University and asked him what he knew about them. The man then told TW that there were new confessions against him concerning the distribution of leaflets – he was not told anything about these leaflets. TW was then charged with being an:

“activist in the student union.”

After a great deal of negotiations between TW’s lawyer, the prosecutor and the Shabak (Israeli internal security), TW was sentenced to 27 months imprisonment, with a reduction of 24 months for time already served in administrative detention.

TW was finally released on 11 December, 2006.

Emotional toll

TW says that the worst part of administrative detention is the first and last month of each period of the order. In his own words:

“The first month is very tense. All your plans have gone – university, gone. It is devastating – all hopes of a normal life collapse. The last month is terrible too – should I allow myself to dream of release or not? Should I risk the pain? Should I prepare myself for another period of detention? It was not easy on my family either. At this time four of my parent’s sons were in detention – they had no support.”

My final question to TW is how did he feel when he was told he was to be released. A huge beaming smile spreads across his young face:

“I couldn’t sleep for the last three nights – I was so excited. The morning I was to be released I took a shower and waited until 1.00 pm, but nobody came. I asked a prison officer what was going on? The prison officer told me that I would have to wait until the Shabak office closed just in case they wanted to issue another detention order. At 4.00 pm I was finally taken to the office and processed for release. None of my personal belongings were there as they were still at Naqab prison – I had no money or ID card. I asked the guards to give me a letter explaining this as I did not want to get into trouble at a checkpoint. They said “don’t worry” but did not give me the letter. About a month later my money and ID card were returned to me, but some of my papers were missing.”

TW has now returned to his studies at Birzeit University.

Blog 34

A Palestinian Birthday

The sleuths at Addameer managed to find out that it was my birthday today and so we had a large chocolate cake for lunch. In true Ramallah style instead of using candles, “Jehad” Jehan stuck what looked disturbingly like a rocket in the top of the cake. What remained after ignition was delicious!

They wanted to get me a particular cd of Palestinian music but it was out of stock – so in keeping with the Ramallah theme they found a copy of a copy of the cd in question – it’s very nice.

On the inside of the cd somebody wrote “come back whenever you can, you have family here” - friends indeed.

After lunch Jehan and I take a statement from a university student who has just been released from 27 months of administrative detention. He was politically active in the student union at Birzeit university – that’s it. Of all the statements I have taken over the years I hope that these ones turn out to be the most useful.

Blog 33

J’s weekend

J went home to Jenin to see her parents for the weekend. I asked her how it was – “Not bad, but a bit stressful coming back.”

J left Jenin at 3.30 am to return to Ramallah. It was a dark and very wet night. The Service she was traveling in came across a number of IDF jeeps on the road – an unmarked checkpoint. The driver of the Service did not understand the instructions he received in Hebrew from the soldiers and they were suddenly surrounded by soldiers screaming and pointing their machine guns into the taxi. They were detained at the checkpoint for about 15 minutes as all their ID’s were taken and the numbers checked in the computer to see if anybody was wanted. Luckily they were not asked for their permits – strictly speaking if a Palestinian wishes to travel between any West Bank town they need their ID card plus a specific permit for the trip. Most try their luck and don’t bother with the permit but risk heavy penalties if the soldiers decide to check.

Once allowed to proceed the Service took a detour across a field in order to avoid further checkpoints and the possibility that they would be asked for permits. If caught taking a short cut the driver risked being beaten up and the passengers risked being taken to the nearest settlement for interrogation. Half way across the field the Service got stuck in the mud. Somebody then saw headlights and fearing an IDF jeep they turned the lights off and remained silent and stressed. About 20 minutes later all was clear and they managed to get going again arriving back in Ramallah at 5.20 am.

This is an everyday occurrence under occupation in the West Bank. Apart from that, J had a good weekend.

Blog 32

A weekend away

On Thursday afternoon we leave the Occupied Territories through one of the checkpoints near Jerusalem and head for Haifa on the Mediterranean. An hour into the trip we are speeding along a motorway near Ben Gurion airport in sight of the Wall, but from the other side. It is a strange sensation to be driving in what is basically an affluent modern European state a stone’s throw from the Occupation.

In Haifa we stay with S’s grandmother. She grew up in Beruit, came to Palestine as a 16 year old, married at 19 and after 1948 never saw her family again in Lebanon. She reckons I look like her brother and proceeds to feed me to within an inch of my life.

Next morning we head up the coast to Acre, which feels like a mini old Jerusalem on the Mediterranean, with a wonderful old mosque, thick crusader walls, palm trees and warmth. We then continue on up the coast until we meet a gate that separates Israel from Lebanon. From there we head inland along the heavily fortified border into Galilee and to S’s village, Fassuta. During the war last summer, the village was surrounded by Israeli tanks which shelled Lebanon for a whole month. In return, Hezbollah fired rockets indiscriminately back over the border - the locals are use to war and each house is equipped with a bomb shelter. Fassuta is an Arab Christian village and just one of two Arab villages left near the border not destroyed in ’48. Approximately 20% of Israel’s population is made up of Arabs, those that did not flee their homes in ’48. Most of those that did flee, have never been allowed to return. The landscape is dotted with big clumps of cacti marking where the old Palestinian villages once stood. The cactus was grown for its fruit and when the people left it just kept growing. Many clumps of cacti dot the green and lush landscape.

Next morning it is back to Haifa and a walk along the beach. The weather is sunny and warm and thousands of people are walking dogs, jogging, pushing prams, drinking coffee etc etc., a mere 50 km from the Occupied Territories. The scene could quite easily be Bondi Beach. We pass a busy café and a memorial to the 21 people blown up in a suicide bombing in 2003. One of those killed was S’s cousin who had just got engaged to an Australian woman. The bomber was a 27 year old lawyer from Jenin – she had witnessed her brother being gunned down in front of her. The bomber was related to A, who works in the same office as S. A and S were, and still are, good friends.

On the way back to Ramallah we pick up R, the woman whose fiancé died in the bombing.

Although it was nice to get away to the Mediterranean for two days, it feels somewhat unreal and I’m glad to return to the tension and drama of Ramallah.

Blog 31

Sophie and A.

Last night I was sitting with A. by the log fire in Zan’s on a cold and misty Ramallah night. A. told me about his trip to Munich in 2003 and his visit to the little museum in the university dedicated to Sophie Scholl and her brother.

Sophie and her brother were students at Munich university in the early 1940s. They were from a comfortable family and had no particular reason (other than their humanity) to stick their necks out. They printed and distributed leaflets condemning the Nazis and were eventually caught, interrogated, tried and executed (http://www.sophieschollmovie.com/).

There is a visitors’ book in the museum which A. signed:

“For those who choose not to look the other way.

A Palestinian from Jenin.”

When A. was 15 most of the boys in his, and the surrounding villages, were rounded up by the IDF. There had been mass disobedience in the region recently including the raising of the Palestinian flag; drawing the Palestinian flag on walls; political graffiti and the cutting of phone lines to suspected informers.

A. was taken to an adult prison and interrogated and tortured for the next 59 days. In one instance, his hands were tied tightly behind his back with the wrists together using plastic ties. His arms were then raised up behind his back and he was hung by his wrists from a hook on the wall with his toes just touching the ground. A heavy sack was then placed on his head making it difficult to breathe. The guards then ensured that he could not sleep by poking him and playing loud music. He was left in this position for seven days straight with short breaks of a couple of minutes to eat.

When A. was finally taken down he was then grabbed by the shoulders and shaken violently. The muscles in his neck were too tired to support his head which shook violently back and forth. This technique is well documented to have caused brain damage and death in a number of cases. A. was then taken away for further interrogation.

On another occasion he was placed in a “coffin” cell. As the name implies this is a tiny space in which you sit, in the dark, in sewerage and are deprived of sleep by the guard kicking the metal door with his steel capped boots. After two days in the cell he was released and taken for further interrogation.

Throughout the 59 days A. refused to provide his interrogators with any information. A. was eventually released at 3.00 am one cold morning hours before a delegation from the Red Cross was due to inspect the prison. It was discovered that A. had not been properly registered in the prison records in accordance with international standards. So, at 3.00 am the prison gates were opened and he was thrown out. He remembers begging with the guards not to release him in this way as there were many stray dogs roaming around outside – they didn’t listen to his pleas.

Eventually A. made it to a nearby village where he found help and a taxi ride the 40 km back to his family and village. When he arrived home he did not want to be hugged by his mother because he was embarrassed having not had a shower or change of clothes since he last saw her, 59 days earlier.

For years after this experience the slightest noise at night, such as a fork dropping in the kitchen, would wake A. up and cause him to stand up by his bed in a state of terror. This side effect has taken a heavy toll on A’s relationships as it apparently tends to be a frightening thing to witness.

The following year A. spent another 51 days in interrogation and a number of years later, four months in administrative detention. A. has never been charged or tried with any offence.

A. and I leave the comfort of Zan’s and the log fire at 4.00 am and step out into the cold, misty and deserted street outside. We walk the short distance to our homes through the quiet streets – the only people we are likely to meet at this time of the morning are Israeli soldiers - but all is quiet.

Blog 30

Military Court – Ofer

The taxi ride from Ramallah to the Israeli military court at Ofer takes about twenty minutes along a pot holed lane passing rubbish tips and sewerage works. The “court” is next door to the prison which is constructed in the same fashion as the Wall – large concrete slabs punctuated with heavily fortified watchtowers. Ofer is on the Palestinian side of the Green Line (the de facto border between Israel and the West Bank) but it has now, for all practical purposes, been illegally incorporated into Israel by the Wall and lies between the Wall and the Green Line. Even on the permit forms that Palestinians must fill in to visit relatives in the prison, Offer is described as a “prison in Israel”.

About a kilometer from the prison we come to a gate in the Wall (which at this location consists of a number of electric fences). We get out of the car and approach the soldiers on foot. The soldier I talk to is from West Ham in London and lives just around the corner from Smita. After explaining that we are three lawyers from Amsterdam, London and Sydney visiting the “court” with a local lawyer we are allowed to get back into the taxi and proceed along the road which has now been reduced to a dirt track.

On arrival at the complex we meet up with S., a local lawyer. We pass a long line of mostly Palestinian women waiting to gain access and pass through the usual security checks with the additional item of having all mobile phones with cameras taken from us. The “court” consists of around eight prefabricated huts, one for administrative detention, one for extension of interrogation period applications and the others for prosecuting breaches of one or more of the 1500 military orders that govern Palestinian life in the West Bank.

We enter the hut for interrogation period applications. It is small, 15 meters by 5 meters, and crowded. There is a military “judge”, a military translator, various other military personnel, four policemen with M-16s, three prisoners in brown uniforms with their legs shackled, a couple of lawyers, some family members, the four of us and two Israeli women taking notes for a human rights NGO. On the table by the “judge” are piles and piles of files. Each case lasts only about five minutes. The applications in this hut are brought by the military prosecutor seeking authorization to interrogate a detainee for longer than the initial eight day period. The evidence supporting these applications is secret and the judge very rarely questions, let alone looks at the secret file. This is not a court it is an administrative production line.

Fifteen minutes into proceedings a 15 year old boy shuffles in to the clinking sound of his leg irons. He was arrested on 24 January 2007 for throwing stones at an army jeep near his village. He has confessed and receives a sentence of 80 days imprisonment. In practice little distinction is made between juvenile prisoners and adults, as is required under international law. One concession that is made for children is that those between the ages of 12 and 14 can only be given a maximum sentence of 6 months.

The one aspect of the morning that sticks in my mind the most were the hurried glances between detainees and family members as they tried to communicate with their hands or with facial expressions and how they all said goodbye with their eyes.

Blog 29

Extracts from notes of meeting with Rula and Wissam

Wissam and Rula live with their two daughters by the Palestinian Authority compound near the centre of Ramallah. This is the compound where President Arafat spent the last years of his life.

At a little bit past 8.00 am in August 1994, Wissam was reading his newspaper on the terrace in the front of the house when two cars pulled up outside and four or five officers from the Shabak (Israeli internal security) got out and approached him. Moments later two Israeli army jeeps with soldiers arrived outside the house. One officer placed the barrel of an M-16 machine gun to Wissam’s head and asked for his i.d.

“I’ll give you my i.d. when you take the gun from my head.”

The officer lowered the gun and Wissam presented his i.d. Before being taken away Wissam insisted on saying goodbye to his mother who lived in the house. At first the Shabak officers refused but Wissam insisted saying that they could shoot him if they liked but he was going to say goodbye to his mother. This was the start of Wissam’s first stint in administrative detention.

Between 1982 and 1991 Wissam was living and working underground, wanted by the Israelis as a member of the PFLP and editor of its newspaper. When he was finally captured in 1991 he was sentenced to five years imprisonment which was later reduced to three years. When the Shabak came for Wissam on that August morning in 1994, he had been out of prison for just one and half months.

In August 1994 the PLO were preparing to return to Ramallah as head of the Palestinian Authority and the Israeli army was preparing to pull out of a number of West Bank towns pursuant to the Oslo Accords. The PFLP was vocally opposed to Oslo because, in their view, it did not serve the best interests of the Palestinian people. Dissent to Oslo was not going to be tolerated and in August 1994 Israeli forces started rounding up opponents, including prominent members of the PFLP.

Wissam was taken from his home to the Shabak offices in Ramallah. A Shabak officer said to Wissam:

“You are too dangerous to be out of prison – you are still PFLP, why are you against Oslo?”

Wissam replied that he was entitled to his own opinion and it was none of the Shabak’s business. The officer responded:

“You’re free to have your opinions, and I’m free to put you in prison.”

The military commander for the West Bank issued Wissam with a six month administrative detention order – no charges, no recognizable trial. The military review committee confirmed the order. The only official reason given to Wissam for the order were the standard one:

“A threat to the security of the region.”

One month later, Arafat returned from exile to lead the Palestinian Authority from Ramallah and the Israeli army withdrew from the towns to other parts of the West Bank.

It was obvious to everybody rounded up that summer that this was a political maneuver to silence Palestinian opposition to Oslo. When he received the first six month administrative detention order, Wissam knew, due to the political situation, that the order would be renewed at the end of the first six month period. Wissam prepared himself mentally to spend the next two years in prison, although of course, with administrative detention orders he could have no way of knowing for sure how long his incarceration would last. During the next four years Wissam’s administrative detention order was renewed 17 times, sometimes for six months, sometimes less.

Wissam recalls being told by his lawyer in 1995 that the Shabak told him that Wissam and all the political prisoners could be released on condition that the PFLP gives up the armed struggle.

Wissam and the other detainees rejected this overture as they believed that the PFLP had every right to resist the occupation, with force if necessary, and through their lawyers told the Shabak that if they wanted to negotiate they should do so with the PFLP leadership in Damascus as the detainees had no authority to bind the movement. The Shabak used techniques like this to try and weaken the resolve of the detainees and get them to make concessions.

After two years in detention public pressure mounted in Europe and Israel itself for the release of Wissam and the other detainees, including the core “Group of 11” PFLP members of which Wissam was a part. Amnesty International UK campaigned on Wissam's behalf. This mounting pressure gave Wissam and the other detainees hope that they might soon be released.

One of the cruelest aspects of administrative detention is the uncertainty as to when the incarceration will end. In some cases detainees were told a day before the expiry of the order that it had been renewed for another six months – in other cases they were told a few hours before they hoped to be released. This process caused enormous stress and anguish amongst the detainees and their families leading to inmates setting fire to their beds and going on hunger strike in protest. The families of detainees would often wait outside the prison or at the nearest checkpoint on the expiry of the order not knowing for sure whether their loved ones would be released or not – the pain and disappointment cut very deep. Wissam would communicate with Rula and his mother through his lawyers and told them not to hope for an early release, however administrative detention became much harder to bare once he became a father.

As the date for expiry of each administrative detention order approached, Rula would buy a new set of clothes for Wissam to celebrate his hoped for release. When she heard that the order had been renewed she would put the new clothes in the wardrobe and repeat the process again and again, order after order, year after year.

Just before Christmas 1997, Wissam’s mother came to visit him just before the expiry of his 17th administrative detention order. She was at that time living in the US. The stress of not knowing when her son would be released was clearly affecting her health. Wissam asked a prison officer whether his detention order was going to be renewed but the officer did not know. It was a Thursday and Wissam remembers telling the officer that if he was going to be released it had to be on the following day, Friday, before the Sabbath. Wissam also asked the officer to check with the Shabek and see if he was to be released. The officer agreed to do so and went away. The following three to four hours Wissam describes as “hell, total hell”, not knowing whether he would be released the next day or not. At 9.30 pm on that Thursday night the prison officer returned and informed Wissam that he was to be released the next day, 2 January 1998, after four years in detention. Wissam believes that he was released at the start of 1998 due to the mounting pressure in Europe and Israel, and the increasing difficulty the Israeli authorities faced in trying to justify detention without charge or trial for over four years.

On hearing the news that Wissam was to be released the whole section of the prison started singing and shouting. Wissam was the first of the administrative detainees held since 1994 to be released. This gave the other detainees hope that they too might be released soon. This was a very difficult time as the joy of being released was mixed with the sadness of leaving the other detainees behind. After four years together living in very close proximity with each other, they had all forged very close bonds.

Wissam’s mother asked him to call her the moment he was released – she was very nervous after so many hopes in the past had been dashed. Whenever Wissam’s detention orders were about to expire his mother would put on her best traditional clothes which were Wissam’s favourite. Wissam’s mother waited for him at the family home in Ramallah as she was too nervous to go to the checkpoint. When he arrived home his mother was almost paralyzed with emotion – she was very red in the face and could not speak for a long time.

Rula did not know that Wissam was going to be released and was studying and working in Bethlehem at the time. At 10.00 p.m. on the Friday she received a telephone call from Wissam. She got a colleague to cover for her and drove that night to be with Wissam before returning to work in Bethlehem four hours later. That weekend they both met up in Ramallah and Rula recalls that:

‘they tried every restaurant and café in Ramallah!”

After 17 consecutive renewals of the detention order Rula had not been expecting Wissam’s release. All of the other political prisoners detained with Wissam were released by May 1998. Wissam was never charged or tried with an offence relating to his administrative detention.

After his release, Wissam and Rula married and had two daughters, Anmar and Dara.

In March 2002 the Israeli army invaded Ramallah. Wissam and Rula took their children to Rula’s mother’s place across town as their house was close to Arafat’s compound which the Israeli’s had laid siege to. Two days into the invasion the Israelis started rounding people up – Wissam’s i.d. was checked but he was not taken into custody and so assumed that he is not wanted. Three days later Wissam was picked up along with approximately 15,000 others who were rounded up at this time. The soldiers picked Wissam up from his mother-in-law’s house whilst he was still in his pyjamas and took him blindfolded to a temporary detention centre in the middle of Ramallah.

One of the Shabak officers said to Wissam -

“this is just for a short time, five minutes, so that I can sleep tonight”.

At the detention centre another Shabak officer typed Wissam’s name into a computer and when his details came up said:

“Oh my god, they shouldn’t have picked you up in your pyjamas, they should have put a bullet in your head.”

Wissam was initially given a six month administrative detention order which was followed by four months and then three months. He was released on 1 May 2003 after nearly 13 months in detention. He was never charged or tried with any offence.

Wissam found his second stint in administrative detention much harder than the first as he now had two daughters, Anmar and Dara. When Wissam was taken away his eldest daughter was three and the youngest was just one. Although the family house was surrounded by tanks, Rula took the children home after Wissam was taken away to give them a sense of familiarity.

The eldest daughter, Anmar, visited Wissam twice whilst he was in detention. Rula was prohibited from visiting her husband. Wissam recalls that one of the visits was a highly traumatic experience for both father and daughter. The day that Anmar came to visit Wissam was meant to be in court. He told the prison officer that he did not want to go to court as his daughter was coming to visit him. On the day of the visit Wissam was informed that the judge had said that he must come to court but not to worry as it would only take 15 minutes and he would be back in plenty of time for the arrival of Anmar at 12.00 pm. Wissam went to court and waited there from 12.00 pm to 6.00 pm. Meanwhile Anmar was waiting in the visitors room, which was small and surrounded by wire mesh, for six hours. She saw other visitors come and go and started to believe that her father was asleep and did not want to see her. When Wissam did finally arrive his daughter was very tense and in tears. She had been up since 4.00 am in order to catch the Red Cross bus from Jerusalem to the detention centre. Father and daughter were permitted to spend 30 minutes with each other separated by wire mesh. Wissam asked the soldier if he could touch his daughter through the mesh and was told no. Wissam shouted at the soldier who eventually relented and allowed them to kiss each other through the wire. This, says Wissam, was the hardest moment he experienced throughout his years of detention, to see his daughter in this terrible state.

Just as Wissam was about to lodge a petition to the Supreme Court challenging his detention, the Shabak told his lawyer that if he didn’t lodge the petition they would release him on 1 May, 2003.

The effects of Wissam’s detention on his children are still felt today, three and a half years later. When Wissam first arrived home his youngest girl, Dara would call him by the name “Papa Prison” and refused to get in to the car with him alone – it took about a month for her to accept that he was her father. Dara still has difficulty sleeping all through the night which started from this time and remained in nappies far longer than would normally be expected.

The eldest daughter, Anmar, was always very close to Wissam. When he was released from administrative detention in May 2003 she would never leave his side for fear that he would disappear again. Anmar is still afraid of soldiers and particularly afraid of checkpoints where she will say something like – “will they take Daddy?”. Rula says that Anmar still remembers every detail of the day the Israeli army took her father away in his pyjamas.

Rula found Wissam’s detention difficult, particularly she says, because of the effect it had on the girls.

“You would try to compensate – give them more love, more time, more toys – but nothing can compensate for the absence of their father.”

The girls would sleep with Rula whilst their father was in detention as they did not like to sleep alone in their own bedrooms. At kindergarten Dara was asked by the teacher what her father did for a living – she responded:

“I don’t have a father, he’s in prison.”

Rula says that at that point Dara’s teacher began to cry:

“There is just no compensation – it is very hard to be both a mother and a father. You can’t be a father as well, it’s not the same.”

Rula recalls how hard it was to be without her husband and how she always had to put on a brave face for the children when inside the pressure on her was enormous. She describes this time as an “ongoing nightmare”. Throughout the West Bank the population was in constant fear of arrest and detention. Whenever fresh arrests were made the phone would ring constantly with friends checking to see if a loved one had been taken away and placed in administrative detention.

During these tense times Rula was terrified that she too might get arrested and then who would look after the children? She avoided going through checkpoints which meant that she could not leave Ramallah to go to work at near by Birzeit University. She was lucky that the university was able to give her some field work which she could conduct from within Ramallah. Even today, Rula and Wissam are cautious about traveling together with the children in case they are both arrested.

Wissam remembers that about a month into his second detention it was Anmar’s birthday. Wissam gathered together all the inmates in his section and they divided up their cigarettes and apples and shared them together to celebrate Anmar’s birthday. All the detainees sang happy birthday to Anmar from the prison. One of the prison guards questioned what they were doing and the response was:

“We are like life – not like you. We sing under these circumstances.”

When asked whether he fears being taken into administrative detention again by the Israelis, Wissam responds:

"This is always a possibility. Whenever there is trouble the Israelis always round up anybody who has been in administrative detention before".

(Interviewed on 7 February, 2007 in Ramallah)

Blog 28

The American Colony Hotel

Noon on Sunday we jump into a Service and head down the road to Qalandia checkpoint on route to Jerusalem. Past a burning tire and a group of young Palestinian boys collecting rocks to throw at the heavily armed and fortified watch towers we hop out of the bus for the routine x-ray and checks. To pass the time we’re taking bets on how long it will be before Greitja picks a fight with a soldier – that probably depends on how long it takes Greitja to find a soldier.

Once scanned and checked we re-board the bus and head for the American Colony Hotel for a lecture/book launch – “The Ethnic Cleansing of Palestine” by Professon Ilan Pappe, an Israeli academic. A big crowd, a grand old stone hotel, an interesting and thought provoking lecture – just why does the world turn a blind eye to the eviction of one million Palestinians and the destruction of about 600 villages in 1948 and the slow but steady annexation that is occurring today? Palestinians would love to know the answer to this question.

(You can listen to a similar lecture given by Pappe at http://electronicintifada.net/v2/article6503.shtml)

After the lecture we grab a late lunch and then walk around outside the old city walls, past the Mount of Olives and a huge cemetery where Oskar Schindler is buried. We then pop back into the old city through a gate to see what is happening around the Temple Mount. The place is full of soldiers to ensure that Palestinians are kept well clear whilst the excavation work is going on. Finally Greitja gets her opportunity to cross-examine a soldier – we ask him about the work and he mentions that he would like to see the al-Aqsa Mosque demolished – Smita and I leave Greitja to it – poor bugger’s going to need more than an M-16.

Back home in Ramalla for a quiet Sunday evening broken only by the sound of helicopter gunships and heavy gunfire at around 9.00 pm.

Blog 27

Wadi Qelt

The Friday walkers meet again in Minara Square at 7.00 am. We wander over to the coffee cart for a shot of the thick, sweet brew. The little coffee cart still bares the marks of the IDF’s visit to town on 4 January (see Blogs 9 and 10) in the form of three bullet holes – the damage is superficial and the coffee is still addictive.

This week there are 10 of us and we manage to just squish into one Service – we’re headed for the Wadi Qelt and Jericho.

Half an hour later the Service pulls off the main highway that leads to the Dead Sea and drops us off at three ruined Arab houses in the middle of some pretty arid country. We walk to the top of the nearest hill and see far down in the valley below, the Wadi Qelt. This is one of the main wadi’s in the West Bank which runs from Jerusalem to Jericho. Whether it has rained or not, this Wadi contains water and the strip of land either side is green, lush and dotted with Date Palms. The view at the top of the hill is so spectacular we decide to stop and have our second cup of coffee for the morning.

After a short break we wander down the hill and into a side wadi which will lead us, eventually, into Wadi Qelt. Along the way we pass goat herds and Arab boys; donkeys and Bedouin. The side wadi is stony and dry as it twists and turns down towards the valley floor. We pass through a tunnel of rock and then into a larger side wadi which is traversed by a ruined aquaduct, which some say is Roman. Under these ruins we come across a Bedouin family, father, mother, two small children and a couple of donkeys. They’re out on a family day trip. We say our “mahabas” and move on through the ruins and continue our descent.

Eventually we hear the sound of running water and come out amongst some Date Palms by the banks of a clear stream. To the left and up the hill is a waterfall and rock pool, to the right is an old stone Arab house surrounded by palms, linen drying in the warm air, little children and chickens. The whole scene looks like something out of a nineteenth century etching. We go left to the rock pool, brew up some tea, go for a wade and eat some brunch.

At the rock pool, the stream divides in two; one part runs down the valley floor whilst the other part is channeled into an irrigation channel about a meter deep and one and half meters wide. The irrigation channel runs parallel to the valley floor, but higher. After brunch we follow the irrigation channel which will take us all the way to Jericho near the Dead Sea. We expect the trip to take us about six hours.

Along the way the lush valley floor provides stark contrast to the rocky arid hills where nothing seems to grow. We see a couple of Herons, a number of Eagles and plenty of goats. Every now and then caves dot the steep sides of the gorge either side of the Wadi. This land induces a strange sensation – it is harsh and arid but hypnotically appealing.

After about four or five hours, large wooden crosses start to appear on the hill tops and embedded into the side of the gorge – we are approaching the monastery of St George, a Greek Orthodox affair. The first sight of the monastery is from the top of a hill looking down into an incredibly deep gorge. Clinging to the side of the gorge, about half way up is the monastery with its blue domed church. Various other buildings dot the gorge, along with a stone bridge spanning the two sides and a little terraced orchard on the far side. Further down the gorge are a number of caves that are clearly lived in, probably inhabited by contemplative monks hermiting. The odd donkey and rider crosses the stone bridge from time to time and large black clad monks with flowing beards are sprinkled photogenically around the place. The whole scene looks like something out of The Lord of the Rings.

Not too far from the monastery the Wadi widens out and enters Jericho, the oldest town in the world according to some. Somebody receives a phone call that there are bloody clashes between Palestinians and the IDF at the Qalandia checkpoint and possibly Ramallah, so we decide to stay in Jericho for dinner. The clashes are over excavation work that is being carried out in Jerusalem on the ramp that leads up from Tzahal Square to the al-Aqsa Mosque on the Temple Mount. The Israelis say the work is being done to stabilize a dangerous structure and will be replaced with a new ramp. The Palestinians say the work is undermining the Mosque and is another attempt by the Israelis to find ancient artifacts from the first and second Temple period in order to undermine muslim claims to the site which is home to both the al-Aqsa Mosque and the Dome of the Rock. We eat dinner outside as the temperature is very mild in Jericho, even at night and only 40 km from Ramallah.

After dinner we squeeze back into a Service for the trip back to Ramallah. We have to take a long and winding back road as Palestinians can’t use the main highway when traveling in the direction of Jerusalem – only settlers and Israelis are permitted to use this road in that direction.

The Wadi Qelt is a memorable and truly great walk. Probably the best thing about the day though was the total absence of soldiers, shooting, explosions, the Wall, checkpoints and sadness.

Blog 26

For whom the bell tolls

No man is an island,
Entire of itself.
Each is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manner of thine own
Or of thine friend’s were.
Each man’s death diminishes me,
For I am involved in mankind.
Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee.

(John Donne)

Blog 25

Three days on

Three days on Ziad and I pop in to see how Rula and Wissam are. When we arrive Wissam is being interviewed by a T.V. crew – he still looks extremely stressed. Rula looks really tired, but worse, she also looks overwhelmingly sad.

In the three days since the Israeli raid the upstairs part of the house looks back to normal – downstairs still looks like a war zone.

I ask Rula how their plans are going to study for their PhD’s in Sydney – “not anymore” she says, “the Shabak (Israeli security) will never allow us to leave the Occupied Territories now – it would be the eighth wonder of the world for it to happen.” Rula explains that the Shabak will never believe that they didn’t know that the man who moved into the flat below the day before the raid was a wanted member of Hamas.

I ask after their two little girls. “They’re still on a high,” says Rula, “in a week or so the problems will start, once they try and get back to normal. This is the second time the eldest one has suffered something big, and she’s not even eight.”

On the way out Rula fixes me with her tired and incredibly sad eyes – “Gerard, your report better be good.”

Blog 24

Harsh realities

Yesterday afternoon Rula waited for me in her car outside the office. I jump in and she drives us the short distance back to her place so that I can interview her and her husband, Wissam, about administrative detention for the report I am working on.

We sit in their living room and over herbal tea Wissam tells me how he was taken into detention in 1994 and held without charge or trial for four years and for a further 13 months in 2002.

In 1994 members of the PFLP and other critics of the Oslo Accords were rounded up and placed in administrative detention so as to silence opposition and make the "peace process" look presentable.

During our conversation their two small girls and a little friend wander in and out to see what we are all up to.

Rula tells me of the trauma suffered by the girls at seeing their father dragged off in his pyjamas by the Israeli army and not knowing whether they would ever see him again. The eldest girl, who is now about 8 years old, gets extremely scared whenever they approach an army checkpoint, an unavoidable situation unless she never leaves Ramallah. The youngest girl, who is about 5, no longer sleeps properly at night. They both cling to their father.

My final question to Wissam is whether he fears being taken into administrative detention again by the Israelis:

"This is always a possibility. Whenever there is trouble the Israelis always round up anybody who has been in administrative detention before".

Rula adds that they are no longer as politically active as they once were and I sense that perhaps their upheavals are behind them as they focus more on family life.We say our goodbyes and Rula gives me a lift the short distance back to my apartment. I spend the rest of the evening incorporating my notes from the interview into the report.
I wake up at around 1.00 am to the sound of explosions, gunfire and stun grenades - it is close and goes on sporadically for what seems like a long time. This is not particularly unusual for the West Bank and I thought little of it other than noting the time and the use of stun grenades suggested that the IDF were in town. I roll over and go back to sleep.

I'm now in the office working on my report. It is 10.00 a.m. The phone rings, it's Rula:

"Gerard, remember how you asked us whether we feared the Israelis coming back? Well they came back last night in the early hours. They used stun grenades and shot up the children's bedroom whilst we all waited outside in the cold. They smashed up our house and four other houses. I thought you would want to know for your report. Come by and have a look.”

At lunchtime I go and see Wissam and Rula again, less than 24 hours since I last visited them in their home. The first thing you notice as you approach the house is the number of spent bullet casings lying around the place. The house is Wissam's old family house - a large two story building which looks more like an apartment building. Wissam, Rula and the children live on the top floor and they rent out space on the ground floor.

Once over the bullet casings you see that almost all the windows have either been smashed or have bullet holes in them. The ground floor window frames have all been blown in and the metal shutters are blackened and twisted where four rockets were fired into the basement.

I'm back again in the living room - the same room where I sat yesterday interviewing Wissam and Rula is now a mess. The room is full of men smoking and comforting Wissam who looks clearly shocked. His hand is wrapped in a bloody bandage. I speak with Rula who shows me around the house and tells me what happened.

At approximately 1.00 am this morning a number of sound bombs were thrown into Wassim and Rula’s house waking them and their children up in a state of terror. A voice in Arabic called from a loudspeaker telling them to come out of the house with their hands in the air. Outside Rula saw approximately 25 to 30 military vehicles and a large number of soldiers.

Once outside the family was asked about the whereabouts of the downstairs tenant who had only moved in the day before – they didn’t know where he was. Wissam was then ordered to strip naked and put on a white jump suit. He was then ordered to smash the windows of the down stairs apartment, enter and check to see if anybody was inside. It is a contravention of international law to use civilians as human shields in this fashion. Whilst breaking into the flat Wissam cut his hand badly.

Once Wissam had checked to see that the flat was empty the Israelis sent in a robot with a mounted camera. After the robot came back out again, the army fired four small missiles into the basement, then entered and fired their guns, even though nobody was present. The army then proceeded upstairs and smashed up Wissam’s and Rula’s place. They entered the girls bedroom and fired their machine guns into the beds and the wardrobe, smashing the mirrors. Rula picked up a small pair of pink trousers from the floor and showed me the four bullet holes in the legs. The soldiers then proceeded into the playroom where the girls’ toys are kept and proceeded to destroy the room and shoot up the soft toys. Most of the windows upstairs were smashed and were shot from the inside out – this was gratuitous destruction. When it was all over the girls picked up the empty bullet casings from their bedroom floor - they stopped counting after 50.

The soldiers then went into the bathroom and shot the water pipes so that the entire house flooded and all the carpets and belongings thrown on the floor were damaged. Wissam and Rula’s bedroom was completely destroyed, furniture overturned and all their belongings strewn across the floor. There was less damage in the living room, the furniture had all been moved around and a number of bullet holes could be seen in the wall. For some reason best known to the soldiers a lute which one of the girls is learning to play, was smashed. Next to the living room is an office with a number of bookshelves. Three out of the four bookshelves had been overturned and the floor was covered with the books.The real damage was to be found in the ground floor apartment. The furniture was piled up in the centre of the rooms in pieces. There were scorch marks and shrapnel damage to all the walls where the rockets had exploded. The walls were riddled with bullet holes.

From the time they were woken up by the sound bombs at 1.00 am the family was made to stand outside in the cold weather until 6.00 am. The two little girls were guarded the entire time by 10 heavily armed soldiers –

“as if they were a threat to the State of Israel”

says Rula. Throughout the tour Rula is a picture of strength. Her house has been destroyed, her husband is injured and clearly suffering from shock and her small children, who are now staying with a cousin, will have been further traumatized by the Occupation. From what I saw and what Rula showed me it appeared that the force used was excessive and gratuitous.

The soldiers eventually found the tenant from down stairs hiding in the garden and they took him away. Rula points out that they continued to destroy the house after the man was arrested.

From what I could gather the man the Israelis arrested was a Hamas member they had been after for five years. What he was wanted for nobody knew. Wissam and Rula had first met him one week earlier when he inquired about the flat and then he moved in the day before the raid. The raid had nothing to do with Wissam or Rula, it just so happened that a wanted man had moved into the flat below the day before.

As I left Rula’s eyes began to fill with tears – she and Wissam have spent a combined 17 years detained by the Israelis; her house has been destroyed and her two little girls have been seriously traumatized. She pats me on the back and says it will be fine.

Blog 23

"Not even seven thousand years of joy can justify seven days of repression."
Hefez (Persian Poet)

Blog 22

Humus, aftershave and administrative detention

One of Addameer’s directors regularly comes into the office to work and eat humus with us. He’s around 67 years old. I first met him at the American Colony Hotel in Jerusalem when I first arrived from the airport. He drove me from the hotel to Ramallah on my first day in the Occupied Territories.

The other day at lunch there was another round of story telling and a lot of laughter. Somebody translated the story for me which related to mother’s day or Valentine’s day last year. The director had completely forgotten about it until somebody from the office reminded him late in the day just before he was going home to his wife. He dashed out and got her what he thought was a bottle of perfume but which in fact turned out to be aftershave – we could only speculate what his wife thought about this.

In 2004 the director, a well known human rights, social and political activist, was detained at Qalandia checkpoint outside Jerusalem. He was taken into custody and interrogated.

His interrogation focused on his work; who works in the organization; who funds the organization; does the organization provide financial support to detainees and their families; and is he a member of the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine?

The military commander for the Occupied Territories issued him with a 6 month administrative detention order for “posing a threat to security of the region”. No further details were provided.

At the review hearing before a military court, the judge claimed that the secret evidence against the director included his participation in activities clearly threatening the security of the territory, and activities that were not limited to his work in a human rights organization. Neither the director or his lawyer were permitted to know what this secret evidence was.

The director appealed this decision to the military appeals court. The appeal was dismissed on the grounds that the secret evidence covered activities stretching back over a long period of time. The arbitrary nature of administrative detention is apparent from the fact that the director had already been interrogated by the Israeli intelligence service 12 months before and released after only a few hours – strange if he was such a threat to security.

It is not uncommon for Palestinians to be detained for months and even years without charge, for no more than being a human rights activist or being an active participant in political and social life in the Occupied Territories.

Since 1967 over 700,000 Palestinians have been detained, including all the males who work in this office.

Blog 21

The Dead Sea

An hour’s drive from Ramallah and at 400 meters below sea level is the Dead Sea - the lowest point on earth. The Sea, which looks like the Mediterranean is 65 km long and 18 km wide. The hills of Jordan are clearly visible on the other side. The hills on the Palestinian/Israeli side are tinged pink and dotted with caves – a popular hangout for hermits and holy men for millennia. The surrounding country is rocky and arid with the occasional spectacular oasis of date palms. Whereas it may be snowing in Ramallah, you can get away with wearing a t-shirt at the Dead Sea, only 40 km or so away.

The Sea is 20 times more salty than everything; only 11 species of bacteria live in its waters and it tastes disgusting. In winter the water temperature is a very nice 24c ish. It is an interesting experience to float in the Sea as long as you don’t get any water in your eyes or have cuts on your body. Although you may think you have no cuts on your body floating in the Sea is a great way of finding out for sure.

Propulsion is tricky. If you try swimming on your front your legs stick out of the water forcing you into an uncomfortable banana shape. Probably the best way of getting about is on your back, but it is possible just to sit and think about it.

Due to the amount of water extracted upstream from the Jordan River, the Dead Sea has shrunk by about 25 km in recent times.

Although about half of the Sea is in the Occupied Territories, many Palestinians can not visit the area due to restrictions placed on their travel. Similarly, many Palestinians live in view of the Mediterranean but will probably never swim in its waters.

Blog 20

An evening in Ramallah

It is 6.30 pm on a wet, cold and windy night in Ramallah. From my apartment I can hear the call to prayer from at least five mosques. Their calls are all completely different, but somehow manage to work harmoniously with each other to create an evocative, mournful, strangely uplifting and haunting sound that echoes off the stone buildings and surrounding hills.

Greitja, the Dutch lawyer living upstairs bangs on my door and wants to know if I’m going to the gym – why not. As we walk the ten minutes up the hill to the “first private gym in Palestine” sporadic machine gun fire comes from nearby Minara Square. We pay it little attention as this seems to happen most nights and the lack of intensity indicates that this is not a military incursion or anything to be particularly concerned about. Greitja continues on telling me that there is a party tonight to celebrate the fact that somebody she knows has managed to avoid going to jail, no small achievement – did I want to go? Along the way we pass women and children, men coming home from work and people shopping. No one pays the slightest attention to the gun fire or shows any concern – at this time of the evening the most likely explanation is that somebody is letting off steam. It is the gunfire at 2.00 am that you wonder about, particularly the single pistol shots.

Back home after the gym the news reports talk optimistically of negotiations between Hamas and Fatah to negotiate their 10th ceasefire in just over a week (http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/6324677.stm). The next story reports that there have been kidnappings in Gaza and Ramallah between the two groups and the final story is that the Israeli army has entered a number of West Bank towns to make arrests. The last story is unusual as the IDF usually comes to town between midnight and dawn – they’re very early tonight. Last weekend the IDF even snooped around our place in the early hours, shining torches through windows and wandering around our terrace. Some peace activists from Israel were staying over but it is impossible to know whether the two are related.

After the gym Greitja wants to watch a DVD but none of the pirate copies she has purchased in Ramallah work on her player or my laptop – that possibly explains why they were so cheap. I think I’ll just read a book and absorb the sounds of the night.

Blog 19

Masada

The fortress of Masada sits atop an island of rock 450 meters above the shores of the Dead Sea. The flat top of this island is 650 meters long and 300 meters wide. The fortress was built by King Herod in around 30 BC and consisted of luxurious palaces, storerooms, cisterns and thick walls to withstand a siege.

In 6 BC the Romans annexed Judea to the Empire just before Herod died in 4 BC. Tired of Roman occupation, the Jews revolted in 66 AD in what became known as the Great Revolt. In 70 AD the Romans destroyed Jerusalem and the last of the rebels fled to Masada under the command of Eleazar Ben Yair.

In 74 AD the Roman Tenth Legion (8,000 troops) under Flavius Silva laid siege to the fortress. The stone foundations of the Roman camps and fortifications are still visible in the plain below. In order to capture Masada, the Romans (with a little help from a lot of slaves) built a ramp of rock and earth from the plain all the way up to the fortress walls. This ramp is still there today. Once completed the Romans pulled (with a little help) a huge wooden siege tower up the ramp to break down the walls.

The night before the Romans broke into Masada, Ben Yair gave a speech to the 960 men, women and children who represented the last resistance against the Roman occupation. He convinced the rebels that it was better to die than to live in shame and humiliation as Roman slaves:

“Since we long ago resolved never to be servants to the Romans, nor to any other than to God Himself, Who alone is the true and just Lord of mankind, the time is now come that obliges us to make that resolution true in practice...We were the very first that revolted, and we are the last to fight against them; and I cannot but esteem it as a favor that God has granted us, that it is still in our power to die bravely, and in a state of freedom."

(Elazar ben Yair)

The rebels apparently agreed with him:

“Then, having chosen by lot ten of their number to dispatch the rest, they laid themselves down each beside his prostrate wife and children, and, flinging their arms around them, offered their throats in readiness for the executants of the melancholy office. These, having unswervingly slaughtered all, ordained the same rule of the lot for one another, that he on whom it fell should slay first the nine and then himself last of all; …They had died in the belief that they had left not a soul of them alive to fall into Roman hands; The Romans advanced to the assault … seeing none of the enemy but on all sides an awful solitude, and flames within and silence, they were at a loss to conjecture what had happened. Here encountering the mass of slain, instead of exulting as over enemies, they admired the nobility of their resolve and the contempt of death display by so many in carrying it, unwavering, into execution.”

(Josephus Flavius, The Wars of the Jews, VII, 395-406.)

When the Romans broke through the walls the following morning they found two women and five children alive. The fall of Masada was the final act in the Roman conquest of Judea.

(http://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/jsource/Archaeology/Masada1.html)

Blog 18

Another side of Palestine

Every Friday morning a group of Palestinian walkers meet in Minara Square, in the centre of Ramallah, at 7.00 am sharp, 5.00 am in summer. All are welcome.

Last Friday there were about 17 Palestinians and 3 internationals – Martin, an American who works for USAID and who has lived and worked in the Middle East all his life; Lisa, a German working on her doctoral thesis on female suicide bombers, and myself. After introductions and a brief discussion, one Palestinian dropped out. For one reason or another he doesn’t possess a permit and so is unable to safely stray too far from the outskirts of Ramallah without facing the risk of imprisonment should he encounter the IDF.

The group piled into two Services and took off to a little hill top village about twenty minutes out of town. From there we made our way down through the terraces of olive trees to the stoney wadi below (dry river bed). Wadis remain dry for most of the year, but when it does rain a flood of water rapidly sweeps down from the hills drowning any unsuspecting creature in its path, including a number of people every year. In the morning mist the countryside looks like Tuscany except it is dryer, stonier and minarets dot the hillsides. Along the way our guides point out various wild flowers and herbs which the locals pick and fill their backpacks for cooking and tea making later on. Wild herbs of all sorts seem to be everywhere. The fruit trees are all beginning to come into blossom and red poppies line the paths.

In the valley below there is an old man riding a donkey, leading another. On the opposite hillside you can make out a herd of goats and some small shepherd boys searching for food for their charges. Up in the clear sky hawks hover and plunge and then hover again as the sun climbs and the temperature rises on a pleasant mild day.

Several hours into the walk we arrive in a small village and are invited onto a large terrace in front of somebody’s house. Sweet tea and strong coffee are served (both, not one or the other). The village leader comes and sits with us speaking of the history of the village. This is, of course, in Arabic, but one of the Palestinians translates for me until he can’t stand the interruptions from all the others correcting his translation which appears, from what the others are saying, to be remarkably far from the mark – a pity, because I quite liked the story he was telling.

We say our thanks and move on, visiting a ruined fortified house on a nearby hill top and then down to more wadis and up through more olive groves until we reach another village, and more sweet tea and strong coffee.

Lunch is taken in a green pasture by another wadi. Tea is brewed, taken with humus, bread, olives, fruit, humus, sliced meats, salad, chocolate cake and humus. After lunch one of the Palestinian women starts to sing, accompanied by the call to prayer from a distant minaret on a surrounding hill. The singing is beautiful, but like most Palestinian songs, is extremely mournful and is probably best enjoyed with a packet of anti-depressants.

After lunch, we climb up out of the valley and cross a settlers’ road to the grumbles of the Palestinians and then into the next village for more sweet tea and coffee. The final activity for the day is to climb a nearby forest covered round top hill for more beautiful but painful songs. We are surrounded by what seems to be all the children from the village, some on donkeys others with ingeniously made slingshots which they use against the trees, and god knows what else, soldiers probably.

Finally, it is down the hill at 3.00 pm where we pile exhausted into two more Services for the journey back to Ramallah. Next Friday the group may walk from Ramallah to the Jordan valley and Jericho, a descent of 2 km – I hope so, it is supposed to be spectacular and passes a number of old monasteries built into the cliff sides.

Palestine is an extraordinarily beautiful land and definitely a land of contrasts. It is an intense experience.

Blog 17

An improbable headline

Last Wednesday Alla in the office brought a newspaper headline to my attention. We agreed that the headline was thought provoking:

“Suicide Bomber Strikes Again.”

I think there must be more to this story.

Blog 16

Nablus

A cold grey windy day is a good day to visit the Hawara checkpoint that restricts access to and from the West Bank town of Nablus. It is a cold drab miserable installation and the weather compliments the mood. Of all the places in the West Bank, resistance to the Occupation is probably strongest in the towns of Nablus and Jenin. Restrictions are tighter and military incursions more frequent in these areas.

Checkpoints are always unpredictable and fickle, depending on the mood of the army at the particular time, on that particular day. The checkpoint at Nablus consists of large high mesh fences which serve to segregate and channel the pedestrian traffic – those entering Nablus have free access, those trying to get out, must pass through turnstyles, searches, questions, long queues and delays – frustration and humiliation – common tools of the Occupation. Whilst waiting in line a Palestinian man walks up and down serving coffee from a large silver pot which he pours into plastic cups tucked into his thick winter shirt. His clientele aren’t going anywhere in a hurry and the only impediment to the success of his business was the complete absence of any toilettes!

There is a watchtower by the side of the road draped in camouflage netting and you can just detect shadows moving around behind the tinted glass windows. The two lane highway at the checkpoint is divided by large concrete barriers. Everywhere are soldiers with M-16 machine guns pointed in all directions whilst army jeeps come and go. Now and then a Palestinian will be taken from the crowd and placed by the side of the road, his hands usually fastened behind his back with plastic ties. Usually it is because he has the wrong permit, or is perhaps “wanted” – but as is pointed out, most people are “wanted” in the Occupied Territories, otherwise how else could 700,000 Palestinians have been imprisoned since 1967?

The only fully enclosed area in the shed giving protection from the bitter wind blowing down the valley is a small cubicle where women can be strip searched – strip searches, I am told, are even more humiliating for Arab women, although I’m not sure how this could be measured. Assuming Palestinians have a pass that permits them to leave Nablus, this is how they must get in and out of town, no exceptions.

From time to time you look up and see an ambulance waiting in line to pass through the checkpoint – lights flashing. Some time passes, perhaps ten minutes, you look up again, the ambulance hasn’t moved, lights still flashing. It is not uncommon for Palestinians to die in ambulances like that one, waiting in queues at checkpoints. Ambulances are given priority, but it’s all relative. To pass the time you wonder what drama is taking place behind the dark windows of this ambulance and whether you will read in tomorrow’s newspaper that somebody died in an ambulance on Saturday at the Nablus checkpoint. It is not uncommon for women to give birth at checkpoints either, and sometimes the mother or child, or both, die from complications. I look up again, the ambulance has gone, it has been replaced with another one – on it goes, this queue doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. There appears to be no urgency among the soldiers, this is the way it goes. Two days ago a 16 year old boy was shot in the leg by the IDF trying to clime a fence at the Qalandria checkpoint, on the outskirts of Ramallah. An ambulance was not called for two hours – the boy died from blood loss before it had arrived.

A professional photographer who doubles as a bodyguard for President Abbas was displaying photographs on the fence at the Nablus checkpoint to protest the Occupation which turns 40 this year. (http://www.palgallery.com/) This was the reason for being there. The photographs showed typical scenes – old men being questioned by young men with guns; a child crying; boys throwing stones; barbed wire; tear gas, smoke bombs and anguish. Some soldiers came up to see what was going on, cameras clicked, soldiers grew angry. Arguments broke out between Israeli protestors and the soldiers – “What are you doing here? Why are you protesting? We are doing this for you, we are protecting you, you should be grateful” said the young soldier to the old Israeli woman. Her older friend took another photograph whilst her younger friend held a microphone closer to catch all that was said. The soldiers left but returned five minutes later with a superior officer – some Palestinians in the group were called over and taken away and put in the back of a jeep – apparently there was some irregularity with the number plates of the car they had been driving. With administrative detention they could be jailed for 6 months, maybe more, without charge or trial, a popular tool to discourage active discent, whether it be political, peaceful or violent – still, maybe there was an irregularity with the number plates, after all there is a flourishing black market trade in stolen cars between Israel and the West Bank, so I’m told.

Once back through the checkpoint it is into a taxi for the hour long drive back to Ramallah via two more checkpoints, more I.D. checks, more questions, more guns, more delays, more frustration. On approach to checkpoints there is always a quiet collective groan amongst the Palestinians. After a month or two in the Occupied Territories, you find yourself groaning too – it becomes oppressive. At the final checkpoint the I.D.s of the Palestinians in the taxi caused some amusement amongst the soldiers as they hand them around, one to the other, whilst their machine guns remain pointed into our vehicle, fingers on triggers - I hope the safety catches are on – apparently they were amused by how similar the photographs were on three of the I.D.s - it must get boring standing at a checkpoint all day.

Meanwhile the eight passengers in the taxi sit patiently in silence, each thinking our own thoughts.