The Keys to Peace - Palestine
The Keys to Peace - Palestine
Story & photos by Andy Rain
“These keys are the only thing that I own from my land,” says Ali Abu Zena, 66, a Palestinian who lives with his wife, six daughters and two sons in Beach Camp, Gaza. “I remember the day well in December 1947, when we were forced from our home. Israeli’s were raping our women, it was a dark day in my life”.
Violence erupted after the British plan to partition Palestine, was approved by the United Nations. Hundreds of thousands of Palestinians fled their homes, Ali’s family amongst them. I lived in a tent for 22 years until we received building materials to build a home. Beach Camp is a sprawling concrete enclave housing tens of thousands of Palestinians refugees. Some 3.5 million are still living in other camps throughout the region.
“ I keep these keys so that I will never forget my home, and when I die they will be handed to my son, and he will pass them to his. I never imagined I would be a refugee for over 50 years”.
Since the recent ‘Intifada’ began late September hope of a peaceful settlement between Israeli’s and Palestinians has been overshadowed by a spate of bloody battles between Palestinians and IDF (Israeli Defense Force) troops, that has seen hundreds of people loose their lives, most of these Palestinians. A vicious cycle of revenge killings continues, reiterating that the situation on the ground is a world away from the political niceties of the ongoing negotiations between the Israeli government and the Palestinian Authority.
The fear of all out war between the two sides has increased the need to find a solution to the two sticking points that remain an obstacle to peace – the status of Jerusalem, and the right of return for a few million Palestinian refugees. Both of which remain as contentious and potentially explosive as ever.
“We want peace”, says Ali Abu Zena, “but we want a peace that is just, not a false peace. It must be a peace that enables us to live as we did in 1947. We will never agree until we have the right to return. Without our own country, we cannot agree to any settlement”. The recent violence has incensed nationalistic passions on both sides, subsequently Israeli troops have cracked down in Gaza and the West Bank, shutting off Palestinian towns with increased roadblocks and military checkpoints. The vast majority of Palestinians are restricted from traveling burdening their lives further.
“One day there is gas, the next there is none”, remarks Jafar Filin, 36, a PA employee. From day to day we don’t know what is happening. This is the most difficult thing. I would like to visit my sisters in Ramallah, but I cannot travel to the West Bank”.
The suffocation of Gaza’s commerce is evident in the city’s lack of produce and the general squalor on the streets. North across the Erez checkpoint, in Israel, communities have had the opportunity to grow. This is clear to see while driving the Ramallah by-pass from Jerusalem toward the West Bank town of Nablus. New four-lane super highways glide through a rocky arid landscape, exclusively for Israeli settlers – Palestinians are rarely permitted through IDF checkpoints.
Huge amounts of hard currency have been invested to construct roads for the few thousand settlers who live out in the middle of nowhere. There is ample opportunity for Palestinian snipers to take out whatever passing vehicle they choose. IDF troops patrol the roads, so too do M16 toting settlers. The military wave me by, the settlers, however are a more menacing bunch. The eye me suspiciously and ask me why I’m here. This seems pretty obvious to me considering my rental car has the letters TV taped across the front, sides and back.
I come to a point in the road where the asphalt is still being laid. Israeli road builders go about their work; Uzi machine guns hang over their shoulders. “We live in constant fear”, says Evita Masouz, 36, Israeli mother of 8 children form the nearby settlement of Psagot. “We never know what will happen” A 3 meter barbed wire fence surrounds Psagot, sand bags are piled high for fear of sniper fire. “We have everything we need here, a community center, day care for the kids, shops and a school. Its is hard on my children to live through this, but they understand that we need to be here for us to have our own country”.
In Nablus further north a few thousand Palestinians congregate to pay their last respects to Fathma Jalal, 24, a Ministry of Health employee, shot while sitting in her car by Israeli troops. Such cold blooded killings from both sides is encouraging a tit for tat war on the ground, which is further more being fueled by a media war.
The Israeli public is overwhelmingly behind the government crackdown in Gaza and the West Bank. Very few are willing to compromise on the issue of Jerusalem. Palestinians on the other hand express frustration and disappointment at their own government. Yet it is fully recognised that only President Arafat, who has dedicated his whole life to the Palestinian cause, is capable of working with the Israeli’s. More radical movements of Hamas and Fatah, would not even recognise Israel’s right to exist. This would most certainly be catastrophic.
From an international viewpoint the conflict is a highly edited one. Armchair viewers around are the globe are televised news events, but often networks run old footage, moreover, the incidents we don’t see, are as important as the news we do. All this makes for a distorted and somewhat clouded picture of the truth.
Palestinian children are becoming martyrs to their peoples cause. Kids from notably poor backgrounds with little education are swept up in the political turmoil that threatens to engulf the region. With little to do each day, they direct there anger toward the Israeli troops that man the checkpoints.
By hurling rocks at Israeli soldiers they believe they are contributing to their peoples cause. By keeping their struggle in the media spotlight, this is true, but one can only think that their time would be put to better use by being in school. The IDF troops are no more disciplined. In response to stones they return fire with rubber coated bullets, which often prove fatal if hit in the head, and entice their young opponents further by honking their sirens further.
In the southern West Bank town of Hebron one bright mid morning I find myself caught in the middle of a similar stone throwing clash. In their state of fury approximately 30 Palestinian kids turn on me and begin throwing large rocks toward the half open door I stand behind.
I run into a nearby Palestinian clinic to hide out for a while. Palestinian doctors feed me fanta and salted biscuits, “not to worry, we’ll get you out”, they tell me reasuringly. I wish I could agree with them, but I can see from within the clinic that the kids are waiting for me to step out into the morning light. I make a dash for my rental car parked right outside, and am lucky to reach it unhurt as rocks are hurled toward me. My windshield takes a number of blows and smashes instantly, as I drive away. My attackers are no older than ten years of age but have more anger than grown men, this spells for a dangerous future, I thought as I drove safely toward Jerusalem.
The following Friday morning flag bearing Palestinians arrive after morning prayers with sling shots, to do battle with IDF troops. Fridays are considered a day of rage, when all ages come to vent their anger against the Israeli occupiers. Tear gas, stun grenades and rubber bullets are dispersed into the crowds. Numerous Palestinians are hit. Palestinian medical teams are on hand to drag off the wounded.
As long as there is no peace, the will go on”, says Jafar Filin. The tension on the ground seems to reiterate that. Nevertheless, both Israeli’s and Palestinians need peace, neither can prosper without it. But there are deep-rooted suspicions on both sides and expectations of a final solution are not high. As the recent escalation of violence suggests, peace may not rest in the hands of the peacemakers. For ordinary Israeli’s and Palestinians alike, they will continue to harbour hope as the have done for decades. For many such hope may be in vein, but in this region of the world, how can one possibly live without it.
Ali Abu Zena and his family have lived with such hope their entire lives. “ I believe one day we will return home” he says. “Maybe not myself, because I am old, but my son or his son. One day one of my family will be home”.
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