One Year Ago

January 25, 2007

One Year Ago

One year ago today, I was walking around Gaza City in the midst of the excitement of the first Palestinian parliamentary elections in 10 years. Flags of all colors and political parties were waving on roofs of houses, electric wires at polling places, hoods of cars, and backs of donkeys. People were frustrated by the fact that their presidential elections the prior year had brought no tangible results since the Israeli government refused to negotiate with Abu Mazen (Mahmoud Abbas), but this frustration did not translate into a total disillusionment of the political process at large. In fact, voter turnout was about 75% even despite all the Israeli restrictions on movement, and on the streets the turnout seemed even higher. Every child of every age would tell me who she or he wanted to vote for, generally following their parents’ beliefs but not always. In Dheisheh refugee camp, the Fatah office was around the corner from the Hamas office, which was right next to the PFLP (leftist communist party) office, and everyone seemed to get along just fine.

We had traveled down to the Rafah border crossing with Egypt as the election results started to come in. We walked along the block of houses that had been demolished in the previous few years, including the house Rachel Corrie was murdered in front of as she tried to protect it from demolition. We visited a relative of a friend in the Palestinian police, who told us initial results showed Fatah ahead. They were probably looking at local results. By the end of the night we all knew Hamas had won a huge parliamentary victory, and people were somewhat stunned, with some worried and others hopeful that this might bring necessary change. Only Hamas is seen to stand up for our rights, some said, only Hamas can take care of our internal affairs and improve our economy, and only Hamas can truly negotiate a solution with Israel.

We all know what happened after that. Israel and the West (led by the United States) refused to give the government half a chance to function, and Hamas does not have enough cohesion or support to function despite boycotts and sanctions applied by the world, not to mention Israel’s theft of millions of dollars of Palestinian tax money. In the past year, Israel has repeatedly bombed Gaza, including the power grid that supplies all the water for the region. Gaza is now facing not only a political crisis, but a humanitarian crisis the likes of which have never before been seen there.

One year ago, Palestinian government workers (public officials, social service workers, teachers and others) were making a total of 150 million US dollars each month. Most have not been paid in more than 10 months now, and those who have been paid have only received small symbolic amounts every few months or so. Last summer, at about the 5 month mark, people were incredibly frustrated, angry, and depressed. Now it seems people have gotten used to it. They have already adjusted to the newest manifestation of occupation: no salaries for their work.

One year ago, the Palestinian people elected 132 legislators. Today 41 of them sit in Israeli prisons, the vast majority arrested since their election last year and charged with being members of illegal organizations. Most are Hamas, but according to the Israeli military orders that govern the West Bank and Gaza, it is actually illegal to be a member of ANY political party, including Hamas, Fatah, PFLP, and others. How anyone can use the words “Palestinian” and “authority” together is beyond me.

One year ago, more than 630 Palestinian and 1200 Lebanese people were alive who have since been killed directly by the Israeli military, not to mention countless others dying as a result of ongoing policies of war and occupation.

One year ago, Dunya and I began the Re-Plugged program of Birthright Unplugged, taking Palestinian children from refugee camps to Jerusalem, the sea, and the villages their grandparents were expelled from and fled in 1948. Last week we completed our third Re-Plugged trip with 25 children from Balata refugee camp in Nablus. The trip continues to be beautiful, the reasons for it tragic.

As we were crossing through Huwara checkpoint last week, returning the children to their homes, one child asked me which villages we’ll visit on our next trip from Balata. I told her we do one trip from each camp and that in the summer we’ll be working with children from Jenin. She said, “Inshallah [God-willing] you’ll return to Balata and do another trip from here in the future.”

“Inshallah,” I replied, “we’ll be able to take every child from Palestine on a similar trip.”

“Inshallah,” said another child, “there will be the right of return.”

I looked at him and smiled though I wanted to cry, and quietly said “inshallah.” Of course that’s the reason we do this program, of course that is what we are trying to communicate to the world, and that is usually the way I describe the program to others. But somehow in this moment, crossing through the checkpoint, I was just not thinking on the macro level. But 10-year-old Mansour was. He smiled at me knowingly and continued walking through the turnstyles and fences towards the taxi that would take him back to the camp. I wonder if and when he will leave Nablus again.

One year ago we were in the midst of the 58^th year of Israeli occupation of Palestine. Now we are in the 59^th. I truly hope that when 10-year-old Mansour has a 10-year-old of his own, that he will have no reason to remember last week’s trip with us. This looks no more likely this year than last. I wonder what I might say one year from now.

Back in Palestine

I’ve been back in Palestine for two weeks now, though it seems much longer. We’ve already finished one Unplugged trip, I’ve visited many friends, and now we’re preparing for our Re-Plugged trip. We’ll be taking 20 girls and boys from Balata refugee camp in Nablus to visit Jerusalem, the sea, and the villages their grandparents were expelled from in 1948.

The trip starts the day after a new Israeli law is supposed to take effect. Many of you know that there is already a system of apartheid in place for many of the daily functions in the West Bank (my South African friends insist that the situation here is way beyond apartheid and worse than apartheid ever was, but there are still definite similarities). Israeli citizens and people with Jerusalem ID have yellow license plates, and Palestinians in the West Bank and Gaza have green license plates. The new law states that even within the West Bank, Palestinian people with West Bank ID will not be allowed in any yellow-plated vehicles. Their relatives from Jerusalem will not be able to drive them around, even in their own villages. In response, a number of Israeli and international people are organizing “freedom rides” this Friday, where they will use yellow-plated cars to drive around as many Palestinian people as possible on their way to the weekly demonstration against the wall in Bil’in village. Even the UN, which generally does nothing more here than produce reports and maps, has stated that they will not comply with the new law. It remains to be seen whether it will be enforced, and whether it will affect us or not as we try to travel with the children.

It’s the work with children here that gives me inspiration. And I’ve been lucky enough to experience a few amazing examples of it in the past week. On Friday I went to the opening of an exhibit at the Freedom Theatre in Jenin refugee camp. The Freedom Theatre was originally opened by Arna Mer Khamis (the film “Arna’s Children” is about this and what happened to the children as they grew older). Arna’s son Juliano, who made the film, has re-opened the theatre and it serves as a cultural and artistic center for the camp. The exhibit is art about Palestine and Lebanon by the children and by older Palestinian and international artists. The place was packed as the program began, with children sitting on top of each other and in the aisles to make room for all the guests who had come. We were Palestinian, Israeli, and international, people from the camp and people from Ramallah and other cities. Juliano’s first thanks were to the Al Aqsa Martyr’s Brigade, Islamic Jihad, Hamas, Fatah, and other militant and political groups for their support of the theatre. In the atmosphere of tension between Fatah and Hamas, exaggerated by the media but nonetheless very present, it was quite fascinating to see a person with Jewish Israeli and Palestinian heritage standing on the stage welcoming fighters from different factions and Israelis to the same location. Zakaria Zubeidi, head of Jenin’s Al Aqsa Martyr’s Brigade and one of “Arna’s children”, came out of hiding for the day to shake each person’s hand, stand on stage with Juliano, and give a speech. Young girls read poetry, a Palestinian musical group from Haifa performed, people with “security” written on their shirts danced and clapped and laughed. The Brazilian ambassador came and was recognized. It was a good time, and different than any crowd I’ve experienced at any other event.

The next day I attended a screening of 3-5 minute films made by children from Dheisheh and Aida refugee camps in Bethlehem. A group from the US had spent one week with them in a digital storytelling workshop, and the result were these incredible films that the children produced by themselves – they wrote the script and chose photos and music to go with it. Many of the films were about friends and loved ones killed or imprisoned by the Israeli army, or about their villages that they long to return to, or even about their own injuries. One boy, Miras, made a film about being shot just last month in an incident that made international press. He was playing with cousins on his porch and Israeli army snipers opened fire on them. Miras was shot in the stomach. I had read about it when it happened but hadn’t read about his recovery, so it was great to see him there, and to see him already reflecting about it and able to express himself through this medium.

I’ll try to write again after our Re-Plugged trip. I realize I’ve written about a few specific events here without any general analysis. This is partly because the situation does not seem appreciably different than when I was last here – or I should probably say that things are getting worse at a pace that Palestinian people are used to, rather than at the rapid pace they were declining last summer. It’s partly because I’ve been caught up in the day to day with little time to reflect. It’s partly because I haven’t been reading the news and hear only bits and pieces of stories about Fatah and Hamas forming a unity government, Condoleezza Rice’s visit and Palestinian protests against it, Bush bombing Somalia, etc.

So this is just a glimpse of what I’ve been up to. Next time I hope to include a bit more of what I’ve been thinking, once I figure it out myself.