What's Right isn't Always what's Legal (Ask Nelson Mandela)

A week or so ago I got a chance to be shown around Jenin, Tul Karem, and East Baq'ra.

East and West Baq'ra are separated by 25 foot cement wall. In fact that's not precisely accurate. Six houses holding 54 people from East Baq'ra are walled into West Baq'ra. The Israel government has kindly built a small checkpoint which is used exclusively (and may be used exclusively) by these six families who daily cross back into East Baq'ra for their kids to go to school, to visit neighbors, and generally be in their community. "Their houses are like hotels now, they only sleep there" our tour guide told us. If you follow the wall attentively you will see a house cut in half at its border and another where the huge security light fixed to the top of the wall shines straight into someone's bedroom. (Good luck going to sleep with that shining on you). The split house belongs to a man who's son and daughter-in-law up until a few years ago were his neighbors. A 300 foot walk is now a 150 mile trip one way to see his family.(He has to drive to Jerusalem, get around the wall and drive back) He is not permitted to spend the night so the total trip is 300 miles. And yet when Baq'ra's central market was destroyed in 2003 in order to build the wall, the city caught a lucky break. The wall was being built on the official green line. They won the fight that many many others have lost.

You see, originally Israel had built the wall so as to cut into the green line, into East Baq'ra, annexing five wells including the 2^nd biggest in the West bank. This well provides 60,000 people with water daily and would have been a monumental loss to thousands of Palestinians in the West Bank if Israel had succeeded in annexing it. Already Israel’s national water company Mekorot distributes water in a highly discriminatory way, giving Israel and its settlements 83%[1] of the water available from the West Bank aquifers, leaving just 17% for the Palestinian inhabitants. Much of that water rightfully belongs to Palestinians and yet they are forced to buy it back from the company that has essentially commandeered it from them. Thankfully in this case the sustained pressure and advocacy of the Palestinian Farmer Union in alliance with some steadfast international advocates (including an older lady who once told off a soldier for not allowing her to go teach the Palestinian kids that needed her on the other side of the checkpoint) bore the rare fruit of an Israeli High Court Decision which was implemented! (Although, just for kicks it seems, the night before the court announced its decision the army cut power lines for East Baq'ra…)

So, horray, the "security fence" (see "Apartheid Wall") was moved to its legal place. And still standing in front of a half demolished house and in the midst of the ruins of a once-thriving local market, seeing the almost comically hopeful geraniums lining the gray wall and hearing of communities ripped apart, I find it hard to celebrate.

I'm an advocate for international law. Part of my talking points on the Wall include the statement that if the wall was entirely built on the Green Line there wouldn't be an issue. But I'm not really sure that's true anymore. It turns out what's legal isn't necessarily what's right.

There's actually nothing right about this wall. There are so many ways of getting through it if one is determined that the security argument seems laughable. There have been so many attempts and successes and using the construction of the wall to annex water resources, agricultural resources and normalization of settlements that it seems almost intentionally bullheaded if one does not name these as the primary aim of the government in building this wall. Besides that is the ever-telling question of "Who profits from this?" I think perhaps my true and primary enemy in this world is the growing "security industry" which may as well be called "We will support every kind of exploitation and human rights violation as long as we can make a profit industry"

I think "love your enemies" in this case means that I need to do everything in my power to break that industry and if the CEO ends up in jail, or broke, or psychologically broken from guilt it will be my Christian duty to visit him/her, to help him/her out, to listen to him/her in love.

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[1] The Palestinian Hydrology Group – Water for Life. WaSH Monitoring Programm 2007/2008.

Dancin' in the streets

Thirty Palestinians and thirty internationals wind through the streets of Hebron chanting "1,2,3,4 Occupation no more!" Many carry red cards, a creative wink to the World Cup, and periodically turn and hold them up to the Israeli soldiers who, armed to the teeth and pointing a camera right back at the protesters who point cameras at them, are right on our heels creating a wall of green and AK47s at our rear. We are protesting the closure of ShuHada street, the main avenue in Hebron before settlers and soldiers moved in and blocked it off to Palestinians. We are also protesting the presence of settlers, we are protesting the occupation, we are protesting violence, hate, racism and taking away the dignity of a human life. As we get to a section in the Old City where settlers have taken over the top floor (as they have all along ShuHada street) the Palestinians tell us to watch out, the settlers often throw things from their windows (as is evidenced by the trash caught on the grates that stretch across the street between the 1^st and 2^nd floors of the buildings). In the past settlers have urinated or thrown bleach down onto protesters. This week they contend themselves with spraying water down on us. At first I almost think the settler kids must have decided these weekly protests are fun and want to play along and have a water fight. After all it's a hot day and if I wasn't holding a camera I might want to run into the stream of water. But no, this is Hebron and that water is sending a clear message. It is not a blessing but a symbol of contempt, disrespect and hatred. But then the Palestinian boys who have been following our procession, who unlike any international there fully understand what it means to grow up under daily oppression, disdain and violence, jump into the shower and, grinning, start jumping around, dancing, and celebrating life. These kids are not naïve like me, believing this fresh water was meant to be playful and fun. They know the intent; they look at us in the eyes (We will teach you how to survive here), they look at the soldiers in the eyes (We will show you we are not afraid, we will not give up), and they rejoice. The water meant as a curse is turned to a blessing in the most beautiful act of nonviolent resistance I have yet to see.

Later, I am waiting in the street with my friend John. The soldiers have come down from their rooftops to accompany the settlers through the Old City on their weekly heritage tours (another new development in Hebron where settlers walk around pointing out Jewish heritage spots in Hebron, meant to cement the ideology that gives them legitimacy in pushing the Palestinians out of their homes and places of business). We intend to follow the tour and see what it's like but somehow end up getting caught up in playing with the kids instead. A young boy of about 12 is particularly thrilled that I can set a basketball passably enough to have a 2 person volleyball game in the middle of the narrow Hebron streets. I convince him to let the other kids join and soon we have a circle of kids and me bumping and setting a basketball back and forth (note: bumping with a basketball hurts). It's good we're having fun because the soldiers at the end of the street aren't letting many Palestinians through as the settlers are approaching. At one point four soldiers come towards us (for reasons unknown) and spread out on both sides of us. As they pass through the center we respectfully stop throwing the ball (I personally don't want to be around when a soldier accidentally gets hit with a basketball) but then resume when they have taken their seemingly random stations on either side of us. This too is resistance. We can all tell. With the soldiers all around there is the feeling, the pressure, to end all games, to abandon ship and go play elsewhere. But this is the kids' street. "Yalla!" we say to each other, "Let's go", lets keep playing.

There are so many, so many other moments and stories I want to impart. This weekend for the first time I had two separate conversations with soldiers in Hebron of over 5 minutes each, one was almost 20 minutes long. I also had the chance to go to En Karim and Jenin where incredible violence and incredible resistance have taken place. There is one specific moment I need to share with you.

In En Karim our tour guide showed us the ubiquitous Apartheid Wall, which, after concerted international and Palestinian effort had been moved to the Green Line in this area from where it had originally been built (annexing the 2^nd largest well in the West Bank) but which nevertheless cut a Palestinian community in two and a Palestinian home literally in two as well. For about 100 meters of the wall we were looking at there were bright red geranium planted squarely against the wall. The contrast between the huge grey monstrosity and the small bright green and red plants were striking. He said "Look what Israel plants, and look what we plant" indicating first the wall, and then the flowers. "To the Americans in this group I have one question: do you know what your taxes are being used for?"

The Palestinian kids in Hebron resist by dancing, by playing. Despite their seeming powerlessness, they resist. What about us living freely in the most powerful democracy in the world? How can we resist?

In Their Own Words

I have met some fascinating people in the last few days. Here are snippets of the conversations I've had with them, or quotes I wrote down.

Johara is a West Banker who married a Jerusalemite (a Palestinian with Jerusalem residency) who was driving to work. She got stopped at the checkpoint, presented her American lisence, but was told as a Palestinian she had no right to drive in her own country. "This lisence is valid" she told them, to which he said:

"You can't drive. You shouldn't even be here"

"What should I do, divorce my husband?" Johara asked

"Go back to America!" was the reply. (Unlike Helen, this soldier was not a key media figure. Also being anti-Arab or plain old racist is hardly as harsh an accusation as being anti-semitic)



"Kill as many Arabs as possible and talk as much as posssible about peace." The formula of political strategist Reuven Adler used to lead Sharon and Olmert to power and repeated in Livni's successful election campaign of 2009



"We're a fascist state. It gets worst every day"- Maya, a 20 year old Israeli who was released from 4 months in prison this April after having refused, along with 9 others, to go into the army for the simple reason that they did not want to participate in the occupation.



"Anyone who throws a stone, break their arm or leg" - Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin talking about Palestinians during the first intifada



"Maximum land, minimum Palestinians"- The theory behind the zoning for the Jerusalem municipality according to Maya



"Rule of law is not enforced in Israel when it comes to Palestinians" -Maya after explaining that of the 36% of land tax taken from Palestinian residents of Jerusalem, only 7.27% of the tax is allocated to East Jerusalem for roads, repairs, trash cans, etc.



"I wake up in the morning and look to see if there's a bulldozer outside. If there isn't it's a good day, I feed the kids, I clean the house and I go on." -Palestinian mother quoted by Maya. There are 22,000 houses in East Jerusalem that are built "illegally" which is to say without the building permits Israel refuses to give. Of those 6,000 already have demolition orders. There are about 100 demolitions a year and no one knows if their house will be demolished in a day or twenty years. They live in constant apprehension. (In 1967 the Israeli government drew circles around the main Palestinian cities and created zoning for those areas. Since then population has grown but no rezoning has been done, and hence no more building permits can be given out. Interestingly enough there seems to be no problem in creating zoning almost instantly when a settlement is being built.)



"Economic activism is the way to go... I ask you, as an Israeli, boycott. Because there's no other way for this to end."- Maya

4 layers of security later, I'm in Jerusalem!

As I walked off the plane there was already a contingent from Ben Gurion airport security waiting to ask specific people to step aside to be questioned. I walked the long route to passport check feeling like the familiarity of the place, the sudden switch to Hebrew everywhere and the feeling of coming home were all somewhat surreal. Maybe I was paranoid because I've heard a few stories recently of expats who are outspoken about the occupation being sent back but I have to admit my prayer as I landed in Tel Aviv yesterday morning at 4:30am was simply "Lord, please just let me get through". In the end it was amazing how easily it all worked out. A surely woman asked me the purpose of my visit, where I would be and how long and gave me a 3 month visa, my bag took 2 minutes to come, and I took a sherut (public taxi) straight to Mt. Zion where I'm staying for the first two nights. (When I say straight, I mean, of course, going through a checkpoint and stopping at 8 different locations including a nearby settlement to drop the other passengers off) Then, with 3 hours of sleep, I joined my friend Ben for a short jog, had some breakfast, took a much-needed shower, and slept for most of the rest of the day.

So, Hallelujah, I'm here!

Now, what should I do? Seeing my friend Aline yesterday was a good first choice. As always here, though, the mundane becomes the politically charged very rapidly. Aline needed to get new shoes for her cousin's wedding. So we went to the new Mamilla strip-mall development next to Jaffa gate. It's a strip mall in the sense that there's commercial stores in the family of starbucks, Express, etc but it's also beautiful old Jerusalem stone facade, has art exhibits and a historic old Church right off to the side of it. This area was just starting to be build when I left Jerusalem three years ago. I commented as we walked in that the buildings the stores were in were really beautiful. Aline stopped and told me "Yeah of course, you know this used to be Palestinian houses, right?" Nope, I didn't know. Turns out that when Palestinians fled their homes there in 1948 the Israeli government took ownership of them and since then convinced the historic church to sign off on the development project (there's a big problem with churches selling off land they really shouldn't here. It's apparently linked to a lot of corrupt leadership but sometimes also, as in this case, carelessness in reading the fine print) and thus the Mamilla strip mall came to be. I looked around and asked "What about the right of return?" and also "How can you shop here?" To the former there is really not much one can say. When a peace deal is signed I'm sure places like Mamilla will have to be compensated for, but I doubt very much the families who lived in the houses where those shops now operate will every be able to come home. To the latter Aline, knowing I wasn't accusing but knew that it must be hard to go there knowing the history, replied "I know, it's terrible. But I live here and even if I didn't go here but to Malha (the main mall in Jerusalem) it's the same thing; it was built on what used to be a Palestinian village too."

Aline said one thing that really bothered her was that now with this area built up all the tourists went straight from Jaffa gate here (Thinking, like me, "What lovely stone buildings! What a great place to get some coffee!") without having any idea when they walk into the swim suit store they are treading on someone's dispossessed house. But this also means they bypass Damascus Gate and the Muslim quarter of the old city a lot more, thereby robbing it of a primary economic resource. So who's wrong? The church leaders for selling the land? The developers for developing the area? The tourists for being ignorant of what they are unintentionally supporting or the history they are walking into? The locals for shopping there even when they do know the history? The government who dispossessed the families of their land to begin with? Probably the question of who's wrong and to what degree isn't really a good question at all. But it's this kind of situation that for me shows some of the complexity here, and also the way in which injustices build up and become trickier to dislodge the longer they are let sit.

I'm keeping a journal of "Occupation Observations" because I've noticed I hear and see a lot of things I have trouble retelling later with any helpful details. I don't know what I will be doing much of the rest of my time here, I have a lot of ideas but mostly I'm just focusing on seeing friends and keeping my eyes and ears open. It's unbelievable the things you can observe when you're being attentive.

C'est quoi ce souk?

A few days ago I went to La Bastille, a historical monument commemorating the French Revolution and (despite the undeniable brutality of chopped heads and such) the movement from a tyranical form of government to one that professed equality for all and the triumph of the lower class over the upper. Ok, so, I'm oversimplifying. The point is that I went there three days ago and found a North African suk, it appeared, which turned out to be a sleep-in (think sit-in but a week long with overnights) for just immigration reform. I talked to one of the guys and told him I was in solidarity with him and had been working on similar issues in the US. He told me to make sure to tell Mexicans (yes, all Mexicans) that they (North African immigrants of France) were in solidarity with them, that their struggles were one. I agreed to pass the message along (just as I agree to tell Obama X, Y, and Z when I'm asked to do so by Palestinian friends or Burundian friends) bought a ridiculously expensive pin to support the cause, and went on to do touristy things. The next day I came back for a rally my friend told me about. It was a rally aimed at condemning the Israeli action vis a vis the Flotila bringing aid to Gaza as well as a general call on Sarkozy, the Foreign Minister and Obama to stop supporting Israel's flagrant violation of human rights and international law. I expected a few hundred people, maybe a thousand, given that this was a thrown together rally. There must have been at least 100,000 people. I'm bad at estimating but i was trying to compare to what I saw at the immigration rally in March and it was incredible the support. There were the human rights advocates, immigrant groups, the workers unions, the communist party, the Islamic groups, the general public, it seemed everyone was there. A Jewish woman who ownes a bookstore that specializes in resistance writings (and who's store was ransacked and several books burned by radical Jewish groups in the past) was speaking passionately about the history of the conflict and the need for decisive action.

All of that movement and engagement was relatively hopeful, exciting even. That night I dreamed schitwzophrenically, as I sometimes do, visions of leading a succesful peace process, Hollywood-esque scenes of love, checklists of things to do, utter nonsense. I woke up in a boat on the Marne (this is normal, it's where I was staying with a friend) to the sound of torrential rain outside our round little windows. I had breakfast and then Caroline, the friend I'm staying with shared an email from our friend Hannah, currently working with Ecumenical Accompaniment program telling her about Emily, a 21 year old American who has been in Palestine for a while, learning about the situation, who recently got wounded at a protest. It seems like, from the witnesses and reports that EAPPI members are gathering that she was targeted by an IDF soldier with a tear gas gun. Targeted or not she got shot directly in the face, lost an eye, broke some facial bones and was disfigured. Hannah saw it as confirmation that internationals no longer are priviledged, or safe rather. I was just particularly sad when I saw her blog and saw how much art she does. Later, as I was thinking about it more, I was angry to think the only reason this would make US news was because she's American, and even then how much will it change in terms of our policy?

I don't want to be a debby downer. I want to tell hopeful stories, funny stories. I want to share the story my French grandfather recently told me about hosing down a comanding officer while part of the American fire brigade and getting fired for it. I want to write that I love Paris and I love the language, food, and people I'm surrounded by here. All of those things are true. It's also true that on Saturday I'm hopefully going to see friends I haven't seen in far too long, and walk streets that I have missed as if they were people themselves. So why focus on protests and wounds?
Maybe I'm sharing all of this because I'm not really helping anything right now and so talking about what I hear and see happening around me is the closest thing to advocacy I have at the moment. But also, I think, I need to express why when I will be doing something, it will be in a way that acknoweldges how intense this problem is. Because Emily is not the only person who has lost an eye or been disfigured. Rachel Corrie is not the only victim of a government who flaunts international law and occupies its neighbors. They are the pretty American girls who, tragically, have gotten equal treatement to their Palestinian brothers and sisters.

As I make my way towards the Middle East, the question I want to keep at the forefront of my thoughts is "What does love look like in this situation?" What does it mean to love Palestinians? Israelias?To love every member of Hammas? Of the IDF? What does it mean to love settlers? What does love require? I'm going to be thinking about that, but I have a hunch the answer will rarely be to do nothing, and it may not even look like the fuzzy affectionate version of love we associate with kisses and affirmation. We shall see. For now, prayers for Emily and her family, others like her that have suffered, and (if you have an extra moment) that my trip would go, if not smoothly, than at least successfully get me to where I'm going.

Peace and joy, friends.

Ignorance is bliss...

The rough thing about being somewhat cut off from my regular online news updates is that I'm relatively unaware of the happenings of the world beyond what I happen to see on TV at peoples' houses.

The rougher part about being at a family members' house where I can check my online news sources is finding out that the Israel army has shot 19 humanitarian workers and arrested hundreds others for trying to deliver humanitarian aid to the Gazans who have been under siege for over a year. The fact that this act is illegal under international law is little comfort given that Obama's response has been unbelievably lame. The US Campaign has made a handy fact sheet about the flotilla fiasco (to avoid using other words beginning in f) which is helpful for understanding as well as advocacy: http://endtheoccupation.org/downloads/gazafreedomflotilla.pdf CODEPINK also has an email to Obama you can send calling for condemnation of this act: http://endtheoccupation.org/downloads/gazafreedomflotilla.pdf

What upsets me and shocks me most about all this is less that Israel would do this (because what is the death of 19 humanitarian workers if one is willing to kill hundreds of innocent children during Operation Cast Lead or daily dispossess people of their land?) and more that Obama's reaction has been so unbelievably inappropriate. More than ever I am convinced of the need for US citizens, who are in large part financing and supporting these abuses, to stand up and unambiguously say "Israel, we love you, but just because you have a history of suffering does not make it ok for you to inflict suffering on others. The rules of human rights and international law apply to you too, and we will not keep footing the bill for the oppression of others."

So, there's that.

Also I'm now in Nantes, in Western France staying with my second cousin and his lovely family. It's great to get back to French speaking, French eating, and general Frenchiness. I've had interesting opportunities to discuss cultural differences and perceptions here as well as catching up on the political feelings and realities this side of the ocean. I disillusioned a young man at the tram station today of the belief that all American girls were fast and lose (no worries, he didnt learn by experience, he out and out asked me if it was the case) and I also learned that under our dear Sarkozy dental and eye care are no longer covered in French healthcare. Seems we're taking a lesson from the US. Poor choice.

If you're the praying type today would be a good day to send a prayer out for the families of those killed on the flotillas going to Gaza. While you're at it you could also pray for immigrant families in Arizona as my updates have not been very hopeful in the immigration-reform world either. It's probably also a good day to sign a few petitions. All of which means its also probably a day for chocolate and meditation.

Take care of yourselves and much love.