Settlers try to break us
As we walk away down the craggy biblical landscape, she turns around to wag her finger at him and say “Remember… it is no defense to say you were only following orders.” The soldier looks perplexed and puts his hands out, letting his gun hang down from its strap. He looks like he’s struggling to find an appropriate reply - the insult of her words, echoing the Eichmann’s trial in Jerusalem, hitting him hard.
The soldier, an Officer, is guarding a military outpost adjacent to Susiya settlement. The woman, a representative of Ta’ayush, an Israeli anti-occupation group, is visiting the Palestinian villagers in the area with activists from Palestine Solidarity Project (PSP). On Monday, soldiers from this outpost accompanied seven young armed settlers to the home of an elderly couple where they watched as the settlers pushed, taunted and beat the old man and woman with sticks.
This happened four days ago but the officer on guard says that it is impossible. “It could not have happened. If I find out about any of my soldiers are doing a thing like that, I will beat his ass. I will break his bones.” Nevertheless, Haj Khalil’s legs are now sore and swollen from the beating, one of the bones in his calf fractured. His wife buries her head in her hands as he talks, punctuating his sentences with nods and sighs of despair.
“It is very important for us to have internationals here. They must be here always. Otherwise they will come again,” says Haj Khalil. Ta’ayush, PSP and Christian Peacemaker Teams in Hebron are planning to collaborate on creating a permanent international presence in the area. The villagers, dotted about on the barren slopes of the Susiya valley, with solar cell panels and home-made TV antennas breaking off from the otherwise traditionally Bedouin homesteads made up of tents, goat pens and snarling watchdogs, all regularly fall victim to settler aggression and military complicity.
Furthermore, the villagers have been unable to tend to or even visit their olive groves for several years. The trees surround an Israeli military base, one grove right next to a field used by the soldiers for shooting practice. Among the trees, lie discarded result charts, shot-through pieces of paper showing how soldiers learn how to “zero in” on their targets. The military wish the entire area from Susiya settlement to the large town of Yatta to be evacuated of all Palestinian civilian populations, to make it what Israel calls a “free fire zone.” This process has been frozen due to stern non-violent resistance on the part of the Palestinians living in the area, but is legally difficult to challenge since Israeli courts generally do not meddle with what they regard as being ‘professional assessments’ by military experts on issues of security.
The settlers from Susiya, established in the mid-80s around the same time that many Palestinian families were forced to move from their cave homes nearby to make way for Israeli archeological excavations, did not approach the villagers today. The settlers stood by the soldiers, their white clothing breaking off from drab military wear and red earth. Their little girls wore long skirts and colorful ribbons in their hair, playing with a pet dog as they skipped back to the settlement. Haj Khalil, leaning on his walking-stick, shook his head in silence.
The villagers of Susiya all have their own stories to tell about the fathers and brothers of these little settler girls. Most of them have bruises or scars to support their accounts of hooded men setting their tents on fire in the middle of the night, cracking their skulls open with the butts of their rifles or slashing their arms with a knife. All of them have learned that the official Israeli military policy stating that soldiers should protect both Palestinians and Israeli settlers is a sham – that while the Israeli military may sit and bond over a glass of wine with the settlers, they come to Susiya only to watch the oppression unfurl.
Devoid of protection from both the legal and military institutions of Israeli society, the Bedouin of Susiya are left to fend for themselves, and therefore invoke the support of Palestinian, international and Israeli solidarity initiatives. The villagers remain determined to continue living as they have always done, and each new breath, each stone overturned, each drop of goat’s milk bears witness to the steadfastness of their resistance.
The soldier, an Officer, is guarding a military outpost adjacent to Susiya settlement. The woman, a representative of Ta’ayush, an Israeli anti-occupation group, is visiting the Palestinian villagers in the area with activists from Palestine Solidarity Project (PSP). On Monday, soldiers from this outpost accompanied seven young armed settlers to the home of an elderly couple where they watched as the settlers pushed, taunted and beat the old man and woman with sticks.
This happened four days ago but the officer on guard says that it is impossible. “It could not have happened. If I find out about any of my soldiers are doing a thing like that, I will beat his ass. I will break his bones.” Nevertheless, Haj Khalil’s legs are now sore and swollen from the beating, one of the bones in his calf fractured. His wife buries her head in her hands as he talks, punctuating his sentences with nods and sighs of despair.
“It is very important for us to have internationals here. They must be here always. Otherwise they will come again,” says Haj Khalil. Ta’ayush, PSP and Christian Peacemaker Teams in Hebron are planning to collaborate on creating a permanent international presence in the area. The villagers, dotted about on the barren slopes of the Susiya valley, with solar cell panels and home-made TV antennas breaking off from the otherwise traditionally Bedouin homesteads made up of tents, goat pens and snarling watchdogs, all regularly fall victim to settler aggression and military complicity.
Furthermore, the villagers have been unable to tend to or even visit their olive groves for several years. The trees surround an Israeli military base, one grove right next to a field used by the soldiers for shooting practice. Among the trees, lie discarded result charts, shot-through pieces of paper showing how soldiers learn how to “zero in” on their targets. The military wish the entire area from Susiya settlement to the large town of Yatta to be evacuated of all Palestinian civilian populations, to make it what Israel calls a “free fire zone.” This process has been frozen due to stern non-violent resistance on the part of the Palestinians living in the area, but is legally difficult to challenge since Israeli courts generally do not meddle with what they regard as being ‘professional assessments’ by military experts on issues of security.
The settlers from Susiya, established in the mid-80s around the same time that many Palestinian families were forced to move from their cave homes nearby to make way for Israeli archeological excavations, did not approach the villagers today. The settlers stood by the soldiers, their white clothing breaking off from drab military wear and red earth. Their little girls wore long skirts and colorful ribbons in their hair, playing with a pet dog as they skipped back to the settlement. Haj Khalil, leaning on his walking-stick, shook his head in silence.
The villagers of Susiya all have their own stories to tell about the fathers and brothers of these little settler girls. Most of them have bruises or scars to support their accounts of hooded men setting their tents on fire in the middle of the night, cracking their skulls open with the butts of their rifles or slashing their arms with a knife. All of them have learned that the official Israeli military policy stating that soldiers should protect both Palestinians and Israeli settlers is a sham – that while the Israeli military may sit and bond over a glass of wine with the settlers, they come to Susiya only to watch the oppression unfurl.
Devoid of protection from both the legal and military institutions of Israeli society, the Bedouin of Susiya are left to fend for themselves, and therefore invoke the support of Palestinian, international and Israeli solidarity initiatives. The villagers remain determined to continue living as they have always done, and each new breath, each stone overturned, each drop of goat’s milk bears witness to the steadfastness of their resistance.
posted by lina at 5:59 AM
1 Comments:
Hej Lina,äntligen hör man något från dig! Hur har du det och hur länge stannar du kvar?? Jag har det bra, läser pol mag i Lund och bor kvar i Malmö, så snälla, snälla hör av dig när du kommer tillbaka...ta väl hand om dig...puss och kram Dinka
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