5th December
Hebron.
Of all the places I’ve visited around the West Bank so far, this is the strangest. Hebron, or Al Khalil in Arabic, is an ancient city, on whose narrow streets traders have been doing business for generations. During the build up to the creation of Israel in 1947, when tensions were rising between the locals and immigrant Jews, it was here in 1929 that there was an Arab revolt, resulting in the murder of 67 Jews. Following this massacre, the British removed all Jews from the town but since the 1967 occupation of the West Bank Israeli settlers have been returning. Nowadays, there is an Arab population of 166,000 with around 700 Jewish settlers stationed in the middle of the town, with another 12,000 in surrounding settlements. The settlers that live in the centre of Hebron are not only outnumbered by locals, they are also outnumbered by Israeli soldiers - for each settler, there are four Israeli soldiers.
Settler children taunt local children, from the safety of a military checkpoint tower.
The confrontational nature of these settlers that live provocatively in the centre of this town is demonstrated by the memorial plaque near the grave of American-born Israeli Baruch Goldstein who in 1994 murdered 29 Palestinians as they prayed in the Ibrahimi Mosque. The plaque reads “To the holy Baruch Goldstein, who gave his life for the Jewish people, the Torah and the nation of Israel.”
What makes this city such an unusual place is where the settlers have chosen to position themselves. In most places throughout the West Bank, one can see Israeli settlements on hilltops and these are normally totally isolated, insular places. But in Hebron, the settlers have moved in above the shops on the main street, and to protect themselves from stones, bricks and other general rubbish being thrown down on them, the locals have erected a wire-mesh protective ceiling to the street.
Once the protective wire was put up, realising there rocks were not reaching their targets, the settlers began throwing down less pleasant substances that would fall through the wire, such as oil and flour as well as human urine. In addition, they have blocked the sewers so their waste emerges through the manholes on the street below, rather than draining away. The pile of ‘dark matter’ resting near the middle of the street in the above picture is a result if this.
They also use more direct action to drive away the locals. We spoke with one man, who was holding out with one of the few shops remaining in business in the area, who showed us where the settlers had actually welded shut his door while he was out.
So now, unable to enter his home he rents a flat along the street. This added expense on top of falling tourist numbers, both from abroad as well as from within Palestine means his survival time here is surely limited.
One characteristic of the people of Hebron is that they want to talk. Everywhere we went, everyone we spoke with desperately wanted to tell us what was happening. The people here know that no one outside of their town realises what is going on - Tell the world what is happening here, bring them to see. Sometimes people would launch into 10 or 15 minute long monologues – it is obvious they miss talking; it’s obvious that people don’t come here from outside anymore.
But above all of the many stories we heard of intimidation, violence and provocation from the settlers towards that local people, the thing that is most striking is the sense of decay. This is a town that is dying. As the call to prayer resonates around the deserted streets, there is no one to hear it. As the shop owner waits for customers, there is no one to buy from him.
These people are watching helplessly as their lives, and the lives of their children are slowly, deliberately, and consciously drained from them in front of their eyes. They know what is happening, even if no one else does.
