Alastair Mitchell

30th November 2007.

Bethlehem.

When I was back in the UK recently, and also sometimes on the phone or in emails, several people have said something like - Really sorry not to know this, but what actually is happening in Palestine? So, to help fill in the details for those of you who feel you don't know, I've attempted to sum up an entire nation's politics and history into a few bullet points. It should go without saying that there's more to it than this, but here goes...


· After World War I, because the Ottoman Empire collapsed (which had ruled over much of the Middle East), the British and French marked out and took control of many of the Middle Eastern states we now know of, such as Palestine, Lebanon, Iraq, etc.

· At the same time however, Britain issued a statement (The Balfour Declaration, 1917) saying that Palestine would be given over to Jews, as a homeland for them. At this point, Jews made up 6% of the population.

· In 1947, tired of increasing disorder in Palestine as a result of tension between the indigenous population and soaring numbers of Jewish settlers, Britain handed over control to the UN. Palestine was divided, more or less half and half into ‘Israel' and ‘Palestine'.

· Interestingly, some Orthodox Jews* don't recognise the state of Israel. They claim the land is still Palestine because in the Torah it is said that God will give the ‘Land of Israel' to the Jews after the return of the Messiah.

· The UN created Israel on the understanding that none of the indigenous population would be forced to leave.

· However, within a year Israel had carried out widespread ethnic cleansing** of Arabs on the half it was originally given and invaded farther into Palestine, now reducing it to 22% of its original size.

· These two acts have been condemned as illegal according to international law by every nation in the world, except Israel.

· As a result of this ethnic cleansing, many Palestinians were pushed out to neighbouring Lebanon and Jordan, to within the West Bank and Gaza Strip as 'internal refugees' as well as all around the globe.

· This situation more or less remained until the summer of 1967, when Israel militarily occupied the remaining 22% of Palestine (The West Bank and Gaza Strip) during the Six Days War, where it has remained the occupying power ever since.

· Since 1967, there has been growing unrest within these Occupied Territories. A national resistance has emerged in the form of both violent acts against Israel by Palestinian militias*** and in a political movement for national independence.


So there we have it! I hope that helps clear things up a little, though I suspect you may have more questions now than before I started. Do let me know...


* http://www.nkusa.org
** A detailed account of this can be found in The Ethnic Cleansing of Palestine, by Israeli historian Ilan Pappe, or in various youtube clips under his name, such as http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=XxxMppPxXCw
*** Since the start of the 2nd Intifada in September 2000, 704 Israeli civilians have been killed by Palestinian militias and around 3000 Palestinian civilians have been killed by the Israeli military. Source: B’Tselem - www.btselem.org

29th November 2007.

Bethlehem.

The wait is over. At 2am last night, the Israeli army arrested the brother of the girls I have been writing about.
After having slept in various locations over the last few weeks in order to avoid capture, he had stayed with a cousin last night. On only the second night at this new location, the army arrived complete with a large chunk of meat for the dog they had presumably been warned about, and took him. It looks like they were tipped off, what is harder to know is by whom.
I say the wait is over, but it is not. When the eldest brother was taken about three years ago, it was a year and a half before the family even heard what the Israelis had decided to charge him with, so the beginning of a new, longer, period of waiting has now begun.
At least he is safe. There were growing concerns that the longer he evaded capture, the more trigger-happy the soldiers would be if they came across him unexpectedly, but this is hardly a comforting thought. It is well known that spending time in Israeli jails is not pleasant, so the mental challenges for all concerned have now stepped up a notch. They have all been through this before, but what remains to be seen is whether this will help or hinder them in the weeks, months or possibly years ahead.

Don’t hold your breath for the good news from Bethlehem this Christmas.

25th November 2007.

Bethlehem.

Today a few friends and I took a tour round some of the towns and villages of the northern West Bank. After taking a service-taxi from Bethlehem to Ramallah, and enjoying a fresh juice at the best (and possibly only) place in Palestine to offer freshly squeezed and pressed fruit juices such as pear and ginger, or lemon, mint, and sugar cane, we met with our driver for the day. Around Palestine you often find people pressing fruits, but this shop offers very interesting and sometimes amazing combinations.
Our first stop was at the village of Bill’in, where we visited a man called Abu Waheed - a man who has seen change on his land that is quite extraordinary.



As we sat in the warm morning sun, overlooking his olive trees and drinking the sweet tea he made for us, he explained that he owns 50 square kilometres of land. Unfortunately, when the Israelis built the separation barrier they cut his land in two, and now he has 12sqkm around his home, with the remaining 38sqkm on the other side of the barrier. Notice the electric fence along the top of the above photograph. The following photograph shows the view looking back to his house from the fence.






To reach the rest of his land, he has to apply for a permit in advance, and cross the barrier at a specific time. Of course, no one can farm land in this way, and so the effect of all this is that now he has 12sqkm instead of 50.
For the last few years, every Friday and Saturday there have been demonstrations in the village, protesting this blatant injustice, and recently the case was finally taken to the courts and the village won against Israel. Abu Waheed didn’t seem encouraged by this however, The only winners from that case are the lawyers, he said, they took home a prize of $43,000. But the barrier is still here. What hope is there? It’s been done now.
As we surveyed his lands, he talked of how the Israeli army had uprooted some of his olive trees – the ones that got broken, he said, were left to rot whilst the ones that came up with the roots intact were taken away by the army to sell to the Israeli settlers. The sight of 100-year-old olive trees in settlements built in the last few years is indeed a strange one, but never before had I realised their origins. It takes many years before an olive tree bears fruit, and the wilful destruction of them can be seen only as an attempt to undermine the ability of men like Abu Waheed to continue living and working on the land on which they have done so for generations.
Periodically throughout our conversation, Abu Waheed’s granddaughter would appear from the house, but too shy of a group of strangers we didn’t manage to get anything more than a smile out of her.




We left Bill’in, and travelled first Eastward back to Ramallah then North towards Qalqilya. When we stopped in Ramallah to fill up the van with fuel, we were warned that the Bir Zeit checkpoint might be closed because yesterday the Israeli army went into Bir Zeit, a normally quiet university town in order to arrest someone. When someone threw a stone at one of their vehicles, they stopped and asked someone nearby who had thrown the stone. Not wishing to instantly become an informer in the eyes of his community, or not having seen who threw the stone, the man who was in his 40s said he didn’t know. So the Israeli soldiers beat the man to death.
From Bir Zeit, our driver then took the road through the Israeli settlement of Ariel. The settlement is protected by a checkpoint at the entrance.




Within the West Bank, to be driving past goat-herders one minute, and LA style boulevards the next is very odd indeed.



When we arrived in Qalqilya, we were told the checkpoint might also be closed, due to the shooting there of an Israeli soldier yesterday. Qalqilya is a town that has been very affected by the building of the separation barrier, because it completely encircles the town, leaving only one entry and exit point. Therefore, we were dependent on the checkpoint being open and after the soldiers discussed it for a few minutes they decided to let us pass on foot, but not to take the car. So we parked up and then got taxis to the centre of the town. Considering the extent to which the town is isolated, I had expected a very low standard of living, and in parts there was clearly poverty but the central area was surprisingly good. We all had a very good chicken kebab for lunch, before meeting with a friend of our driver. He took us to his new pharmacy and proudly showed us around. I congratulated him on starting his new business, then asked how things had gone since opening two months ago. When asked to divulge reality, instead of show-off his pride and joy, his face dropped. “You know, with the situation here, it’s very difficult. No-one can come here to buy the things they want. It is very quiet.”
After kindly providing us with Arabic coffee, he then took us in a local service-taxi and showed us some of the sights of Qalqilya. It says it all that these were the electric fence, the Wall and the sites of some houses that had been demolished by the Israeli army.
As we left, I felt bad for him. It’s one thing going to see a place like that, but imagine living there. Generously, you show around the very few people who actually come to the town, then an hour later you are back in your shop again - if you are one of the lucky ones to have work.
As we drove back home, I thought back to Abu Waheed in his olive groves. In Arabic, waheed has two meanings – it means alone and unique. As I imagined Abu Waheed sitting there going over his life once again for visiting foreigners, recalling the changes he had witnessed, and wondering what the future will hold, I couldn’t help but think that he, like so many others around here, must feel a lot more alone than unique.

24th November 2007.

Bethlehem.

It seems I chose well. As some of you know, when planning to come to the Middle East I had considered going back to Beirut.
Who would have thought, at least until the moment that Rafik Hariri was killed in a massive car bomb on the streets of Beirut’s Central District in February 2005, that less than three years later I would be able to say that from the West Bank, Lebanon is now a place too dangerous for comfort.
Until that fateful assassination, Lebanon was a country that inspired optimism for those interested in the future of the Middle East. It had been brought to its knees during the civil war of 1975-1990, much as Baghdad now has been, and it had got back on its feet to become one of the playgrounds of the Middle East. Its French colonial streets seemed to chime perfectly with its Western, Europe-bound outlook.
However, Lebanon now seems to be looking back rather than forward. The bad old days may be just around the corner, and it is within the context of a much less stable Middle East that it is sliding into a new period of conflict. Will the Middle East be able to resist collapsing completely if it experiences disorder of this level all the way from the Mediterranean to the Gulf? Will Israel be able to stay out of it? How will the Palestinians react?
There are many questions, and many more unknowns. To paraphrase the inimitable Donald Rumsfeld, the only known known is that things are looking bad, and against this backdrop the Annapolis summit appears a joke. Unfortunately, it’s one that I think could end up being not all that funny.

22nd November 2007.

Bethlehem.

Following the last night at the house of which I previously wrote, in order to try to protect his family from further humiliation and fear, the father asked that some of our friends stay with his family, in the belief that in the presence of foreigners the Israeli army will behave more properly. Because I cross checkpoints so regularly, and am reliant on Israeli immigration officials to allow me into Palestine, I am unable to go for fear of being blacklisted. But some others friends that aren’t as hindered as I, have happily gone to sleep at the house for the last three nights, and a strange thing has happened.
Despite promising to come every night with increasingly unpleasant soldiers, the Israelis have not been back. There is no way of knowing why this is, but it is possible that it is either coincidence, or that the phone is tapped and the army knew they were there. Either way, it is a short-term reprieve but I am very concerned for what will happen when the family is left alone again.

19th November 2007.

Bethlehem.

I enjoyed writing some nice things yesterday, as recently by blog has been a little depressing – due to the experiences of the family that has recently come under Israeli attention. Unfortunately, I write tonight with further bad news.
The army returned to the house of the girls in question last night, after we got back from Jericho. As before, they arrived in the middle of the night dressed completely in black, with their faces painted black.
While we were in Jericho, one of the girls had said to me that ‘you always think that you get used to this, but at the time when it happens, you don’t. Last night I was shaking.’
I don’t blame them. Last night the soldiers returned, and when the family still did not produce the younger brother, they started getting tougher. ‘Ok, in that case, when we find him, we’ll bring his head to you’ they said. Then, when one of the girls started to cry, the officer said looking her in the eye, that ‘this girl will cry each day and every night from now on’.
The army left saying that tomorrow they will return with their ‘worst’ soldiers. I dread to think what is going through the minds of this family right now.
When I think of a young girl, inside her home, crying in fear of what the army of a so-called civilised nation will do to her and her family, I am reminded of Anne Frank.

The irony of that comparison is as shocking as it is acute.

18th November 2007.

Jericho.

Today we have come for a day out to Jericho with the students from the Bethlehem branch of the conservatory.  At 260 metres below sea level, it is close to the lowest point on earth and is therefore consistently hotter than up in the hills where Bethlehem and Jerusalem are situated.  It is well known for its orange and banana trees, and at this time of year it provides an opportunity to enjoy the summer sun once again – during the real summer, it is better to stay in the hills as temperatures here reach uncomfortable levels.  As well as being the lowest city on earth, it is also the oldest continually inhabited.
The drive between Bethlehem and Jericho is quite spectacular as the landscape changes from mountainous to flat desert, and the civilisation changes from urban to Bedouin tent dwellers.  In Bethlehem you are never far away from the past, but going down towards Jericho is like stepping back into it.

16th November 2007.

Bethlehem.

I suspect that it is only a matter of time, for when the Israelis are after you, they inevitably get you. Of course, this is not what I’ve said to the girls whose younger brother is now on ‘the list’, but they know it as well as anyone.
The army went again to their house last night, for just one hour this time. Again, the younger brother wasn’t there and the army left empty handed; however, they left behind notices to all the males in the family to go to the Israeli intelligence on Sunday for questioning.
I am wondering what is worse – having a family member taken from you for an indefinite period of time on no charge, or knowing one will be taken anytime soon. The wait must be agonising.
But these people are incredible – after one hour of sleep following this second night of being visited by the Israeli army they got up and went to university. And when calling here later on to let us know the latest, they apologise – I’m sorry, I didn’t practise. I've heard many excuses in my time, but how do you respond to that?

15th November 2007.

Bethlehem.

The smiles of last week’s concert have gone. Last night the Israeli army revisited the house of the two girls I mentioned in a previous entry, and stayed for three hours – between 2 o’clock and 5 o’clock. As I slept easily, a few streets away the family were subjected to a search of their property along with questioning. The army was looking for the youngest brother – the one who has not (yet) been detained for reasons of ‘security’, or ‘terrorism’.
A few weeks ago, the army took in one of the friends of this younger brother. As a result of this, and knowing the Israeli army’s habit of extracting the names of friends from people, the younger brother had been sleeping elsewhere, in a fear that turned out to be justified.
How are these people expected to sleep? I can understand why the girls in the house will find it difficult, in the days ahead at least – what I can’t understand is how the men and women of the Israeli army can.

8th November 2007.

Bethlehem.

I wrote recently of the increasing delays at the Bethlehem checkpoint and this got to its worst on Tuesday. When I arrived, there were a group of approximately 20 people waiting by the usually deserted outer gate to the checkpoint complex. The red light above the turnstile shows that it is locked.



I don’t know how long they had been waiting, but because people tend to arrive at this entrance only once every few minutes it must have been a while. After I got there, they kept the gate locked for another 30 minutes before letting us into the main building where we were held for a further 20 minutes before being allowed through.
I have no idea why this delay occurred, but since Tuesday the passage through the checkpoint has been back to normal with a time of around 5 minutes from start to finish. The increasing delays of the last week have afforded me the chance to take some photos of the checkpoint complex, in order to give you an idea of the permanence of these structures, and there affect on daily life.

When you arrive, you are directed down some caged corridors by signs - this area of the checkpoint is usually deserted.









These corridors lead to the main building.







Inside, you reach a turnstile with a light above, showing whether it is open. This time, you can see it is green. Apologies for the bad focus – taking photos at checkpoints is an excellent way to attract unwanted attention from soldiers, so I don’t always have time to get the perfect shot. The walkways you can see at the top of the photo are where armed Israeli soldiers walk around, looking down and occasionally shouting down on those trying to cross.





Looking through this turnstile, you can see the beginning of an area very similar to airport security, with an x-ray machine for bags, and a metal detector for humans. The difference between airport security is that here the staff are all behind glass in sealed rooms, and bleat instructions to people over loudspeakers.





On passing through the x-ray and metal detector area you then go to one of the booths to have your passport or identity card checked. There are twelve booths at the Bethlehem checkpoint that I have counted, but only very occasionally is more than one open at a time. It can be reminiscent of a budget supermarket at rush hour when there is a long line of people queuing at the one and only open checkout. Again, the walkways above can be seen at the top of the photo.





Once passing this final area, you are through the checkpoint and are free to leave the building. You may be able to imagine the daily grind of having to pass through here everyday – I am lucky in that I only need to cross three or four times a week.