Route 443

Andres came to visit for the weekend. I took him to the airport early this morning from Tel Aviv and then took a sherut to Jerusalem. I left Ben Gurion airport at 5.30am. The driver took us on a road I had travelled on before: route 443. At that time, I sensed that something was up, but it had slipped out of my mind. At around 6am, we arrived at a checkpoint, and I saw dozens of Palestinians waiting on either side of the road. I also saw a smaller road, which had been cut off by route 443 and blocked. This time there was no denying that something was up. It was time to do some digging. I got back to Jerusalem and started asking questions. Here is what I found out.

Route 443 currently links Jerusalem and the Tel Aviv area (Modiin and the airport, for example). 40, 000 Israelis (and tourists on their way to the airport) use it daily as an alternative to the main road linking Jerusalem and Tel Aviv. Fifteen kilometres of route 443 is built inside the West Bank, including on private Palestinian land.

The problem: Palestinians are not allowed to use the road.

The road used to be a major traffic artery to Ramallah for Palestinians living southwest of the city. The High Court only allowed the Israeli authorities to build the new road if it served the local population. Now however, the local population, some 35, 000 people, are forced to travel on a different route, one that is much longer, windy and in disrepair.

For a while Palestinians and Israelis shared the road. But in the wake of the second intifada in 2000, and following several attacks on Israeli vehicles where people were killed, Palestinians were increasingly prohibited from using route 443. By 2002, a full prohibition was in force. Of course, those who committed the crimes should be punished, but is it fair to punish all the people living in the area?

An Israeli NGO, the Association for Civil Rights in Israel, petitioned the High Court on behalf of the six villages affected by the prohibition. To date, their efforts have been unsuccessful.

This is not the only case where a road is built in the West Bank by the Israeli authorities, which Palestinians are prohibited from using. Palestinians are forbidden to use, or are restricted in their use of more than 300 kilometres of roads in the West Bank; Israelis on the other hand, are free to use these same roads without restrictions. See the map here.

I support Israel punishing acts of violence and terror. I am okay with Israel imposing robust security measures to protect people's lives. But within reason. Israel has the duty to protect the lives of everyone living on its territory, including people living on territory it occupies. If the lives of Israelis is in danger by using this road, the Israeli authorities could have easily found an alternative route, within Israel's own territory, to provide safe passage. Instead, the Israeli authorities chose to disrupt the lives of Palestinians living near the road, restrict their movement and cut them off from important economic, social and cultural ties. It makes me furious.

How is it ok to punish entire villages for the acts of a few? And should the convenience of this road to Israelis really outweigh the basic needs of the local population to a decent livelihood?

46 days to go...

Unspoken heroes

Every Shabbat a group of Israeli and Palestinian doctors and nurses join forces to provide healthcare to Palestinians living in the occupied territories. They work as volunteers. I accompanied them on one of their mobile clinics to a rural village just outside Qalqilyah.

The Israeli organisation, Physicians for Human Rights-Israel, has 1150 members, over half of whom provide healthcare to people in need. They have an active program in Israel as well, assisting Jews, Arabs, migrants and asylum seekers, who are unable to access adequate health care. The Palestinian organisation, Palestinian Medical Relief Society (PMRS), is the largest primary health care provider in the West Bank and Gaza, and has a network of over 40, 000 volunteers.

The Israeli doctors and nurses only treat patients for illnesses that cannot be treated in the occupied Palestinian territories. In this way, their humanitarian efforts do not undermine the Palestinian health care system. This is the kind of aid I like. They want to help people in need, without undermining their ability to help themselves, and without preventing them from developing their own healthcare system. Alongside their humanitarian work, they push for changes to government policies and practices that undermine access to healthcare.

On my mini-bus were two Jewish Israeli nurses, one originally from Egypt and the other one born in Palestine before the creation of the State of Israel, who had studied nursing at the American University in Beirut, Lebanon. The nurses spoke Arabic and acted as translators for the doctors. The two doctors were also Jewish Israelis, one orthopedic surgeon originally from Brazil, and an endocronologist originally from the United Kingdom. I watched each doctor consult forty patients each throughout the day.

These people are the unspoken heroes of this conflict. Every weekend, they choose to push aside politics and ideology to help people in need. Simple acts that change lives, and in some cases, save lives. What greater gift could you give to someone else?

Initiatives like these are the building blocks for peace. I hope they continue to grow and flourish.

47 days to go...

Torn in Tel Aviv

Here is another thing I love about Israel: Tel Aviv. This city is awesome. It has the chaos of the Middle East and the uber trendiness of New York all wrapped into one. The people are cool, laid back and having fun. But by evening time, I feel a heaviness in my heart. How can I let myself have so much fun, when this is a story of catastrophe for another people. When other people no longer have the right to be here.

Is it possible to be at peace with the story of the creation of the State of Israel? And perhaps more importantly, do I need to be okay with the past to find shalom in the present?

48 days to go...

Can we be friends?

Before this year, I had never met a Palestinian. To be honest, I was scared of them. The first Palestinian I met was in Geneva in March 2009 (neutral territory). I did not dare tell him that I was Jewish. I was careful about every word I said. Then I came to the region, made contact with Palestinians, and decided it was time for me to visit them, to learn more about their story.

My first visit was to the southern Hebron hills in the West Bank. The night before my trip I hardly slept. I kept having dreams that I was taken hostage, tortured and killed. I kept checking and double checking with my hosts whether it was safe for me to come.

When I finally started meeting people and making friends, my walls started to come down. My fear started to melt away. My prejudice started to fade. I felt more comfortable to be myself. I stopped hiding who I am.

There is one Palestinian woman in particular who has become a good friend of mine. We both turned to each other during a time of need, totally unrelated to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. She wanted advice on how to deal with a relationship with a man who has children from a previous marriage, and I needed help on dealing with a personal crisis about what to do with my job future. Typical women's stuff, no?

Our friendship is not all rosy. We still have work to do to build trust. We both have our own misconceptions about the other, our own biases and prejudices to work on. But, we like each other as people, and we are determined not to let our hatred win over our hearts.

I love this process. It is incredibly spiritual. It is about getting to know the other, realising that they are the same as you, even though they look different. This woman symbolises the enemy of my people, and I, the enemy of her people. And yet, we both refuse to let that reality prevent us from breaking down the wall.

I am fully aware that just because I can make friends with a Palestinian or two, does not mean that the problems disappear, or even that we can solve them. It also does not mean that we can all hold hands and be friends. But, if there is a solution to be found, can we really find it without trying to understand the other?

49 days to go...

Freedom

The theme of freedom kept surfacing in my travels today.

I started the day in Ramallah, the administrative capital of the Palestinian Authority, ten kilometres north of Jerusalem. Today is the five-year anniversary of Yasser Arafat's death. There were numerous parades and rallies in the street to commemorate him. For many years he was considered a terrorist. But for the Palestinian people, he was the leader of their freedom struggle.

In the afternoon, I attended a workshop in East Jerusalem about whether the European Union is helping or harming the Palestinian cause. The two Palestinians at the table kept repeating that unless the Palestinian people gain their freedom, in other words, establish an independent State and end the Israeli occupation, then nothing that anybody does will help them. "Without freedom, nothing matters," remarked one of the Palestinians.

My night ended with the Matrix, which for those of you who do not know, was the film with Keanu Reeves, about human beings freeing themselves from the control of machines. Will you take the red or the blue pill?

Freedom is the foundation for a more meaningful existence. On a personal level, I have flourished when I was free to make my own choices. On a spiritual level, I have found a path that encourages openness and diversity. Freedom is a central theme in the Jewish religion. My favourite Jewish festival is Pesach, which celebrates the exodus of the Jews from slavery in Egypt. Today, after endless struggles and countless catastrophes, Jews have freedom.

But I wonder: can there be peace for the Jews without freedom for the Palestinians?

50 days to go...

Why do I do this?

Today I accompanied an Israeli human rights activist to a meeting with a group of eighteen-year old Jewish Aussies and South Africans who are here on a one-year program to learn about Israel. They asked some important questions. I have reproduced the questions below, to tell you how I would answer them.

1. Are you only here to defend Palestinians human rights? Why do you ignore human rights violations from the other side?

I am concerned for all human beings. I am concerned about human rights violations wherever they take place. But I choose to work on issues where I think I can make a difference and where I feel responsible. As a white South African, I felt responsible for the policies and practices of the white South African government during the apartheid era, but I was too young to act. As an Australian, I feel responsible for the situation of indigenous people, and I acted. As a Jew, I feel responsible for what Jews are doing in the occupied Palestinian territories, and I want to act.

2. There is already so much criticism about Israel outside the country. Why are you trying to create so many more problems for Israel? Are you not damaging Israel more than helping it? Are there not more productive things to do to make Israel a better place?

I do not want Israel, or any country for the matter, to develop into a society where citizens and their elected leaders are not accountable for their acts. The rule of law is a basic building block for any democratic country. I think it is essential that laws exist and are applied to everyone. The Israeli government harms Israel, its citizens and the Palestinians under its control, when it violates the rule of law. Is that the kind of country we are dreaming for? Does that help the Jewish people?

3. Are you a Zionist? How do you justify causing so much pain to fellow Jews by saying things against us?

I do not know what it means today to be a Zionist. Zionism was a movement that started in the late 19th century to establish a homeland for the Jewish people in the land of Israel. The Zionists succeeded. Israel exists. Do we really need to keep defining ourselves this way?

I do not consider myself as being against the Jewish people. I do not consider myself against any people. But I think it is important to ask questions. And I think it is important to speak out when someone does the wrong thing. I think it is even more important when it comes to the policies and practices of a State. Is not this the essence of justice?

51 days to go...

The power of film

Three years ago, one of the organisations I work with, B’Tselem, started using video cameras as a tool for their human rights work in the Palestinian territories. After years of hearing and witnessing acts of violence by Israeli soldiers and settlers against Palestinians, they decided it was time to get evidence on camera.

B’Tselem has distributed more than 150 cameras to Palestinian families living in places where tensions are high, for example, near Israeli settlements.

The footage is chilling. In one particularly serious incident, four masked settlers with clubs were filmed attacking three members of the Nawai’ah family, who were grazing their flock on private Palestinian land south of the Israeli settlement of Susiya, near Hebron.



As a result of the video, a criminal investigation was opened and a case was filed in the Israeli High Court. The case was subsequently closed on grounds that the offenders were unknown. Nevertheless, there are many other instances where footage has been used to open military and police investigations that may have not otherwise been possible. Today, the Israeli authorities regularly request copies of videos from B’Tselem to assist their investigations. The films have become an important step towards greater accountability of Israeli settlers in the West Bank.

The distribution of video cameras to Palestinians has also had an important impact on their lives. First and foremost, the presence of video cameras acts as an important deterrent to violence: people are less likely to commit crimes when cameras are around. Second, it has become an important non-violent tool for Palestinians. Third, it has played an important role in empowering women and children, who are the main beneficiaries of the project. And finally, it has harnessed creativity and interest in filmmaking.

I think this is a groundbreaking initiative. For the first time, we can see with our own eyes what is happening on the ground. Let’s face it, we have all become so distrustful about what people say and write about what is happening in the region. It seems almost impossible to separate the facts from the politics, and the politics from the emotions. With these films, we are given firsthand evidence. And if this helps to lessen the violence, well then all the better!

So what do you think? How do you react to this kind of raw footage?

52 days to go…

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