Sometimes my thoughts are so simple that I think there may actually be some truth to them. Last night I went up to the roof of our house to try to make a phone call, and I stood for a couple minutes feeling the nice breeze, watching the stars and the moon, seeing the cars and lights on the road. Of course, I know the lights line only the Israeli-built bypass roads and the perimeters of the settlements, but in the split second before the politics entered my mind, I felt peaceful. And then sad. Wondering why we can’t all get along, why we can’t all agree to value justice and freedom and let the rest take care of itself.
We had gotten a call about a half hour earlier from a friend in Marda, who told us that the army had entered the village and was randomly throwing sound bombs. After the call we talked briefly in the house: do we go or not? This happens several times a week, we can’t always respond everytime the army enters a village. But what if they’re targeting somebody? What if there’s something we can do? We called an Israeli friend and asked him to call the army to check on it. Our phone rang again. Now the army had taken a 15-year-old boy from his home and left the village. Another house discussion. This also happens quite often, and what can we really do at this point anyway? Last time they took a 12-year-old boy from Marda, drove him around for a few hours, and brought him back. The family was happy to have IWPS in the village, as the mother was understandably freaking out. But did we do anything? What’s the measure of effectiveness? Tonight, they’re likely to drive the 15-year-old around, beat him up a little, and bring him back. We could go meet the family, let them know we’re working on it, that if he’s not back in the morning we’ll get a lawyer on it right away. Maybe a few phone calls now can alleviate some of the beating he might get later. We ended up calling the family and deciding not to go. Another 20 minutes passed, and another phone call: They haven’t brought the boy back, but now the army is back with bulldozers and they’re cutting down trees. We called a driver, and a few of us got dressed and went to spend the night.
When does it end? I think at times like these. The daily offenses, the measure of what becomes acceptable, or at least accepted. Yesterday we were driving on the road to Qalqilya, and I noticed a street sign for a settlement. In Hebrew and English was the name of the settlement. In Arabic the name had been crossed out and written instead, in Hebrew, was “Death to Arabs.” What struck me was not the blatant racism, but the fact that I see it so often and usually don’t even think twice about it. It may not be acceptable, but it’s certainly accepted. I think about it in other contexts, and I can’t imagine all this racist graffiti going unmentioned in the newspapers, uninvestigated by human rights groups, unnoticed by a society. It’s called hate speech in the US, incitement to violence, something I would associate with the Klan. But here it’s accepted, here it’s expected.
By the time our IWPS members arrived in Marda last night, the army had left. The tree-cutting operation was quick, as random tree-cutting at night tends to be (unless whole areas of land are being destroyed for construction of the Wall, which is not the case – yet – in Marda). One can only imagine that the army’s justification for cutting the trees, if they had felt inspired to give one, would have been that trees provide cover for boys throwing stones. The army’s arguments are becoming more and more circular these days.
IWPS: Why are you in this village?
Soldier: A boy threw a stone at us.
IWPS: If you weren’t here, he couldn’t throw a stone at you.
Soldier: We’re protecting our citizens.
IWPS: Your citizens shouldn’t be occupying other people’s land.
Soldier: Israel doesn’t recognize this as other people’s land. etc.
Everything is circular. As my colleague Kate has pointed out, their presence justifies their presence. Remove them from the situation and things would improve 100-fold. Many of the soldiers know this. These are the ones who use a different argument: “I’m just following orders, my boss told me to do this, don’t blame me, blame my government…”
I think about the stone-throwing. It’s probably true that kids in Marda occasionally throw stones towards the settler road that has been built next to their village, through their land. But has it really been happening any more in the past couple months than ever before? I doubt it. I think political motives are behind the targeting of Marda. It’s a village stuck between the settlement of Ariel and the road that was built to connect Ariel to Israel and bisect the West Bank into north and south. Nobody knows if the Wall will be built above or below Marda, if they’ll be in or out. Colleagues and I think they’re warning Marda (‘resistance is futile’), testing Marda (how much will they take, what will be their response?), and provoking Marda (if they can get the Israeli or international public to believe there’s a danger coming from the area, they’ll be able to justify the Wall much more easily).
But that’s neither here nor there. The real issue to me is how stone-throwing can be seen to justify sound bombs, tear gas, shooting, uprooting of trees, arrest, and torture. It’s one more reminder to me that the oppressed are always held to a higher standard than the oppressor, because they’ve already been dehumanized and thus have to prove they’re perfect in order to regain human status in the oppressor’s eyes. And in world opinion.
I’m tired of the politics. I have little patience for them these days. Instead, I find myself thinking my simple thoughts: Why can’t we all get along? Why can’t the settlers and soldiers just leave, and let these societies begin to heal? Why the hell haven’t we found a way to stop this crazy thing we call war?
