Subject: Update #6: Four dead in 24 hours; and on being shot
Dear friends,
It is through a fog of extreme grief and exhaustion--and with my left hand--that I write to you.
I am certain that no number of words can portray the past three days accurately; nor would I wish upon anyone the absolute hell that the holy land has become.
However, I ask you to listen. I know that bad news fills the press; that Palestine feels impossibly distant; that at some moments it simply seems that the only option is to look away. While riding the bus today, I considered how I could ask you to care enough to read this update that I sincerely wish I were not about to write.
What I want to say is that Rachel Corrie died seven years ago last Tuesday (the 16th). I was asked to deliver a speech on behalf of the ISM for a memorial attended by her parents. Rachel and I have a number of similarities, including being native to the Pacific Northwest and being students at Evergreen.
Three days after the speech, I was shot with a rubber bullet fired from four meters away. The bullet lodged in my arm, fracturing my wrist.
The following day, soldiers opened live fire on a crowd containing an ISM activist from Eugene, Oregon. Two boys from the crowd were killed. Within 24 hours, two more youth were shot dead.
Perhaps the names Mohammad, Ussayed and Saleh sound too distant to really care about. If so, read--because seven years after Rachel's death, young adults from the Pacific Northwest still care enough to enter the line of Israeli fire.
What Happened in An Nabi Saleh
The village of An Nabi Saleh is one of the smallest in the West Bank. The illegal Halamish settlement has stolen over half of their farmland since 1977, in addition to two springs. An Nabi Saleh began holding weekly demonstrations a few months ago, attempting to peacefully march to one of the stolen springs.
Each week, soldiers surround the village more completely before the march begins. Last Friday they had completely surrounded the route of the march. We cut across a field instead, ending up back on course by a road. As soldiers stood blocking the road from one direction and jeeps from the other, we decided to cross the road and walk down the hillside towards the spring. As I stood on the roadside in a group of 10-15 containing two teenage girls, a British ISM activist, two medics with First Aid vests and an older man, three army jeeps drove up and started hurling tear gas canisters at us. From about four meters away, flying canisters are far more frightening than anything they will emit. Some rest on the ground, then are propelled high into the air unpredictably.
We whirled around, trying to watch the soldiers, gas can trajectories and each other. Apparently rubber bullets were also being fired because in a startling blast of pain... well you can check out the x-rays
In short, this type of thing happens to Palestinian demonstrators all the time. They don't have the luxury of a larger audience. If there's one thing I could say about the experience, it's that delaying ambulances/cars evacuating injured people seems cruel until you're the injured person. Then it's an entirely new level of insidious. The few minutes we waited for them to wave us down the obstructed road allowed for some of my clearest reflections on the incarnations of pure evil. This type of action is standard for Israeli military, and was used the following day in the fatal shootings of Mohammad and Ussayed.
And then the next day...
The village of Iraq Burin has lost access to much of its farmland to the nearby settlement (sound familiar?) Villagers typically gather on Saturdays, although they are prevented by the military from accessing their land. Robin and I spent last Saturday in the village, and the amount of tear gas used to disperse people who had gathered in the street was absurd. See our report about it here: http://palsolidarity.org/2010/03/11821.
In the place of tear gas, soldiers fired live ammunition at demonstrators this week.
Ussayed Qaddous, 19, and Mohammad Qaddous, 16 were killed.
The military claims that live ammunition was not fired, despite x-rays showing a live bullet in Ussayed's skull.
And the day after that...
ISM activists were at the Qaddous' funeral when they received the call that two more boys had been killed. Not much is known about the deaths of Mohammad and Saleh, both teenagers. They were headed to farm their land near the village of Awarta (close to Iraq Burin). According to some, they were killed by settlers. Others say the military. Media have reported at various times that they attacked (a) soldier(s) with either pitchforks or syringes, or that they had a bomb. I myself am not sure what to believe, but any logical person would be less inclined to believe a story about being attacked when the alleged attackers were armed with one of three very different and not easily confused weapons.
Based on my experiences here, I find it very easy to believe that soldiers or settlers killed them in cold blood. Regardless, Mohammad and Saleh are also gone.
Making sense of it
American media portray the Middle East in a very specific manner. The names sound foreign, and we expect this region of the world to be violent. Surely Palestinian youth are militant. Surely I am biased.
Maybe four fresh Palestinian graves isn't keeping you up at night. A few months ago, the news probably wouldn't have me bawling silently on the balcony at 2 am. What changed?
Playing peek-a-boo with little Sarah Gawi, the afternoon sun behind her angelic frizzy hair and lemony yellow popsicle juice smearing her beaming face.
Banyas and Samaa screaming and leaping into Robin's arms as we strode up the path for another homestay.
Spending infinite afternoons marching and demonstrating with teenage boys, laughing as they practiced 'where are you from?' again and again.
Climbing into a battered and decorated van two weeks ago in Iraq Burin, leaving the demonstration to heartfelt thanks for "sharing our suffering today".
If you were here, you would also see that Sarah shouldn't have to spend afternoons watching settlers come and go from her family's home. You would also remember that Banyas will someday face M-16s as he marches against the occupation that is bleeding his culture dry. You would also love those teenage boys, and go to the hospital when they are shot, and remember with their tormented mothers' faces that no culture willingly risks these things except in cases of grave injustice.
You would cry at 2 am when they are needlessly shot by soldiers. You would march through the fields of wildflowers in An Nabi Saleh. You would take a bullet in the arm, if the situation happened to arise. I know you would.
Shukran.
"This has to stop. I think it is a good idea for us all to drop everything and devote our lives to making this stop. I don't think it's an extremist thing to do anymore. I still really want to dance around to Pat Benatar and have boyfriends and make comics for my coworkers. But I also want this to stop." -- Rachel Corrie
In memory of:
Rachel Corrie, 23
Mohammad Qaddous, 16
Ussayed Qaddous, 19
Mohammad Faysal, 19
Saleh Qawariq, 16
palsolidarity.org
bdsmovement.net
I have attached the speech I delivered for Rachel's parents, as well as two excellent pieces written by a friend and fellow activist, Robin.
No comments:
Post a Comment