Who are settlers?

Date: Sat, 6 February 2010
Subject: Update #3: Who are settlers? And some words on the first week.

Here's a continuation of yesterday's update about Sheikh Jarrah.

Some background on settlers

Settlers are Israelis who inhabit "settlements” -- illegal developments in the West Bank. The location of settlements is strategic, claiming access to the aquifer, separating Palestinian villages from each other, creeping onto Palestinian farmland, and effectively surrounding certain areas in a choke hold.

While Palestinians suffer severe water shortages in hot summer months, settlers enjoy swimming pools and green lawns. Travel to settlements occurs on Israeli-only bypass roads, which don't feature the same obstacle course of roadblocks, "flying checkpoints" and closures that Palestinians face. "Buffer zones" extend 50-75m on either side of the road, swallowing up large swaths of farmland.

Settler violence is a daily reality for Palestinians. Children are harassed while walking to school, farmers face violence when trying to reach their fields, and random acts of violence are routine. The Palestinian Ministry of Agriculture estimates that “a productive olive tree is uprooted [by the Israeli military and settlers] every minute in the occupied Palestinian territories”, totaling over 1 million trees to date. Settlers are largely responsible for the destruction of olive trees; both symbolically significant and a major source of income for Palestinians.

In my opinion, settlers are the single most frightening thing about being in the West Bank. Unlike the Israeli Occupation Forces (IOF), settlers aren't obliged to take orders or adhere to legal constraints on violence. They're typically extreme in Zionist and racist opinions, typically armed, and always defended by the IOF. Settlers rarely face legal repercussions for violence. For perhaps the most extreme example of this, read about the Cave of the Patriarchs massacre: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cave_of_the_Patriarchs_massacre.

For more information about settlements, see http://www.palestinemonitor.org/spip/spip.php?article7

Settlers in Sheikh Jarrah

Sheikh Jarrah has been targeted for confiscation by Israel because, along with the neighborhood of Silwan, it would effectively complete Israeli control of East Jerusalem. East Jerusalem, "Al-Quds,” has always been envisioned as the capital of a sovereign Palestinian state, so its complete takeover demonstrates the systematic denial of a Palestinian future. For a map of settlements in East Jerusalem, see: http://www.fmep.org/maps/jerusalem/is_v19_6_map_expansion_plans.jpg/image_view_fullscreen
Sheikh Jarrah is number 11.

I arrived in Sheikh Jarrah about an hour after a violent and frightening confrontation that left the neighborhood on edge. A settler, after throwing stones at the tents from the settler-occupied Gawi house, entered the street with a loaded M-16 and grabbed a Palestinian boy. In the following moments, the man waved his weapon wildly at the gathering crowd and cocked the trigger, pointing it at Palestinian residents and internationals. The settler and Nasser Gawi, owner of the Gawi house, were both expelled from Sheikh Jarrah for 15 days.
For the ISM report and pictures, see http://palsolidarity.org/2010/02/11104.
For footage, see http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_noYAfW7dm4

Shortly after I arrived, the setter (banned for 15 days) returned with a police escort to collect his belongings. It's important to note that in most countries, any person waving a loaded M-16 at a crowd would face significant legal prosecution. If the man had been Palestinian, he would almost certainly face life in prison. It is also likely that major news sources would cover the story, and that terrorism would be mentioned or implied.

The first 48 hours

The first night, I "slept" in the al-Kurd tent, positioned in the walkway outside of the occupied section of their house. This means sleeping in a small three-walled gazebo-type tent, literally in a walkway used by setters to go to and from and the house. The al-Kurd house is across the street from the occupied Gawi house. While the Gawi's house is occupied by several settler families, the al-Kurd seems to be a hang out for gang-type settler youth. They enjoy (and are encouraged) to continually harass the Palestinian women and cause trouble. Sleeping there feels incredibly vulnerable, especially because the boys are traipsing across the lawn in front of the tent all night long. So the first night, I had a hard time even closing my eyes. In the early hours of the morning I lay paralyzed in my sleeping bag as a settler man paused in front of the tent, staring inside for what felt like several long minutes. I'm not sure if he knew I was awake and staring back.

Day 2

The Gawi tent, directly on the street, is where we keep night watch. Hearing the early call to prayer, watching the sun rise and nursing a mug of tea, there is a deep sense of calm and peace. This fades as the police drive slowly by (which happens more than once an hour during the night), and settlers and Palestinians leave for work and school.

My first morning was pretty calm. The mother of the Gawi family and her adorable 2-year-old daughter show up mid-morning (Nasser Gawi, the father, was expelled for 15 days). Women from the neighborhood congregate in both tents to visit. A Turkish TV station shows up and interviews a few people. Settlers stand in the doorway of the Gawi home and stare at us creepily.

The afternoon was a different story. As the Palestinian women chat in the al-Kurd tent, the settler boys perpetually harass them. This includes constant filming, shouted threats and insults in both Hebrew and Arabic, and a series of crude and offensive gestures (there's a lot of cultural implications to all of this as well). In particular, they like to target the 85-year-old grandmother of the al-Kurd family. This escalates in a pretty routine way until everyone from both sides is in the street, shouting and pushing until the police show up and casually separate the sides.

This day it lasted all afternoon. There's a cycle: harassment from settler boys leads to shouting, which moves from the yard to the street. ISMers follow the conflict as observers, filming and taking pictures. Police show up (or quite likely were present and observing all along), and after a while stand in the middle, telling both sides to give up and go home. The most frustrating part, in my opinion, is that the complaints of the Palestinians are never effectively addressed. Without any consequences, this cycle of harassment will only escalate. Witnessing and documenting is stressful and exhausting. Every time we sat down, the shouting would inevitably start again.

That night was quiet. I spent about four hours on watch, catching a few hours of tormented sleep. Sometimes I feel like trying to sleep there is more stressful than being awake. I was really bothered by how vulnerable it feels to be wrapped up in blankets and mummy bags. For some reason, I really couldn't get over not having shoes on. I think tonight I'll just leave them on. Every time I was able to nod off, my brain would immediately concoct a story about settlers invading the tent, and I'd sit up panicked and trying to climb out of the blankets and put my shoes on. I swear this is more exhausting than just keeping awake.

Day 3

I was dozing in a chair in front of the tent. When I picked my head up, there was a crowd of suit-wearing police and some settler men talking in a circle outside of the Gawi house. I hadn't seen police in suits before, so this was an immediate red flag. They walked down the street, more police arriving every minute, and continued to talk in huddle at the end of the block. Nasser's brother had been keeping watch with us, and as soon as he saw the men, he began taking the tent apart. I was really confused (some of this is surely extreme exhaustion), and he asked us (I was with two other internationals) to take everything from the tent into the al-Kurd tent. Why would you pack up your own tent? I really didn't get it. After that everything happened really fast. Nasser's brother asked us to call the press. An al-Kurd woman stood in front of her house, tearing up as we walked back and forth with sleeping bags and chairs.

The suit-wearing police walked back to the tent. Several normal police cars showed up, and two police pick-ups. I started filming, and then it all happened. With huge grin, the lead suit cop guy walked to what remained of the tent (the skeleton, the bed frames, a few chairs) and started dismantling. Maybe a dozen other cops joined in. It all happened so fast, and so seemed so surreal. Nobody was saying much, though one of the older al-Kurd women kept murmuring "Shoe? Shoe?" (literally, "what?" but in this context, I think, "why?"). The entire thing only took a few minutes.

Since then:

That afternoon, a new tent was erected in a well-attended ceremony. See: http://palsolidarity.org/2010/02/11164. This was the twelfth time that the Gawi tent had been destroyed. The following morning, police returned at the same time to confiscate it again, but internationals were able to mobilize quick enough to move everything into the al-Kurd yard. It is hard to figure out what to do at this point, since the police vow to come every morning.

I've been back and forth between the neighborhood and our apartment in another city where we can sleep in real beds, enjoy warm showers and take a luxurious deep breath. The weather was pretty rough for a few days, with near-freezing temps at night, torrential downpours that lasted for hours, and massive wind that threatened to collapse the tents. It was reminiscent of camping in Washington.

Life at Sheikh Jarrah continues with astonishing dignity in light of the situation. I am amazed at the humor and grace of the Palestinians we share tea and campfires with. While I am stressed to the max about settler violence and "what's gonna happen to the tent tomorrow morning?” the Palestinians (both the Gawis and al-Kurds and their neighbors) face eviction, arrest and imprisonment, and a whole slew of other grim realities. The Gawi family has three children under the age of 6. Somehow, they arrive at the tent daily with smiles and composure. This is what Palestinian resistance looks like, and there's really no way to understand until you spend a few nights in Sheikh Jarrah.

As usual, forward, ask questions, and keep doing amazing work in your communities.

My best to everyone!