More Of The Same
East Jerusalem
Sunday, February 02, 2003
"Man is governed by the spirit. In the desert he is worth as much as his gods."
From Letter to a Hostage by Saint-Exupéry
An ugly steel mesh cage sits on the pavement close to the Damascus Gate. The turnstile at each end extends from pavement to roof and consists of crude metal spikes projecting from a vertical rod. By depressing a foot-pedal, a security guard inside the cage frees the revolving mechanism and controls the flow of people.
The cage is the entrance to the Ministry of the Interior and every Palestinian living in East Jerusalem is required to pass through its portals to receive or renew his or her Identification Document - a procedure, which can involve a week of queuing. No faxed or postal applications are accepted and age permits no exception - eighty year olds are required to stand in line along with everyone else.
East Jerusalem is a far cry from leafy Wimbledon in July; the weather is scorching in summer and can be bitter in winter and, to add to their woes, police and security guards harass the applicants. However, because the Israeli authorities make no attempt at concealment, the daily scramble to enter the cage affords a rare, and surprising, opportunity for the public to witness one example of the endless humiliation Palestinians are forced to endure. The sight of them being herded through the turnstiles is confirmation that Israelis have grown to respect only what resembles them, in effect nobody but themselves. On one occasion I asked an Israeli soldier, standing nearby, if he was ashamed at what was taking place. He was genuinely surprised at the question. “Ashamed?” he said. “Why? These people should not be here [i.e. in this country].” Now, where have we heard that before?
With the exception of East Jerusalem, the segregation of Israelis and Palestinians is so comprehensive that the majority of Israeli citizens are unaware of the harshness of Palestinian lives in the Occupied Territories - the West Bank, Gaza and East Jerusalem. Very few have a reason to go to Gaza and, in the West Bank, with their Israeli number-plates, they drive on roads denied to Palestinians – roads, which bypass Palestinian communities and are devoid of the checkpoint horrors so familiar to Palestinians. If they had more contact and were aware of what is actually going on, then maybe – just maybe - they would object.
On January 30 I happened to be in Hebron when patrolling army jeeps announced a curfew, and tanks rolled into the city. Palestinians have become accustomed to curfews, and if there is no military activity in their immediate vicinity, are inclined to ignore them. My student friends, two boys and a girl, and I had an excellent vantage point in both directions, so we stayed where we were and finished our chat. They are nearing the end of their studies at Hebron University. Repeated Israeli sorties into the city, University closures, curfews, shootings, beatings and disappearances have succeeded in making them - and their colleagues - feisty, angry and militant, examples of how counter-productive Israeli army tactics are. Collective punishment - quite apart from its illegality under international law - does not work. It radicalises the population.
In fact January 30 now turns out to have been the first day in operation Hot Winter, which is due to last for a month. Day one, the day I was in Hebron, began in familiar wanton fashion - the destruction of the central vegetable market by army bulldozers, the University closed and students held for questioning. Thirty days of that, and a death or two, should prime the population nicely for a spot of retaliation.
In earlier reports I have mentioned high levels of malnutrition amongst young Palestinian children. Equally worrying is the dramatic level of diabetes amongst the adult population. It is a problem that I had become aware of anecdotally, but doctors in two hospitals recently confirmed it as fact. Incidents of diabetes are rocketing and, in the doctors' view, the cause is undoubtedly stress - the stress of life under occupation.
The elections on January 28 confirmed the Israeli public's desire for a continuation of existing policies. The occupation of the West Bank, Gaza and East Jerusalem will go on and, with the world’s eyes averted by probable war in Iraq, Palestinian lives may, if anything, become harder, the Israeli economy will splutter and falter, and Sharon will scour the world for more immigrants to expand the number of West Bank settlements. All of this for a Zionist concept that has no relevance to the world of today and is unsustainable without US funding and the support of Jewish groups around the world.
What is unclear, to me at least, is whether it is Israel, who is the driving force behind Zionism today, or whether it is the Jews in the US. Is it American Zionists – Jewish and Christian - who dream of controlling the Iraqi oilfields and of dispersing Palestinians across the Middle East? Or is it the Israelis? Perhaps it does not matter.
What undoubtedly does matter is the link between these two groups and that, because the US holds the Israeli purse strings, the US has the power to call the shots. That is why it is so important that the American public be informed about the nature of the Israeli occupation. Armed with the facts, surely they won't allow such injustice to continue.
Whenever I visit the American Colony Hotel, an ageing Palestinian ‘roué’ of considerable charm can be found occupying the corner seat of the elegant downstairs bar. His lived-in face and well-padded frame indicate a style of life unfamiliar to most Palestinians in the West Bank and, although he does not say very much, he has that knack - possessed by some - of extracting words from others. Last night I asked if he was angry about what had happened to his country. He turned his head slowly towards me, took a sip from his glass of whiskey, sighed and said, "Angry, angry with whom? With the British? With the Jews? Anger, what does it do Nick? You do not understand. We have time. We do not forget. It will change when God is ready. One day my children, maybe my grandchildren, they will…….." He left the sentence hanging, then cupped his left hand, raised it to his chin, pursed his lips and blew.