the international

solidarity movement

July 09, 2002 - Ambulance Report

about ism
freedom summer 2002
registration
contribute to ism
previous campaigns
ism in the news
journals and reports
contact us
links


 

On walls in Nablus there's a shaheed poster -- a poster commemorating a martyr killed by the Israeli army -- showing a middle-aged man standing in front of an ambulance. We're told he was the head of the ambulance service in Jenin. During the reoccupation of Jenin by the Israeli army, when a convoy of ambulances went to pick up people who had been wounded or killed, the Israeli army energy-bombed the ambulances. An energy bomb is an incendiary device which vaporizes everything around it with fire. After the bomb, there was nothing left of his body. Palestinians, trying to explain it, point to the ashes of a cigarette.

Palestinian ambulances, ambulance drivers and EMTs are under constant attack by the Israeli army -- in spite of international law which says that people have a human right to health care, and that health care workers must be allowed to provide it.

Because of their protected status, ambulances are the only vehicles technically allowed on the roads during curfew. Especially under curfew, ambulances have become essential to every aspect of health care. People can't leave their homes to buy medicine, and they can't travel to the hospital for urgent outpatient care like dialysis. People who care for elderly or ill family members can't get to them. People who are discharged from the hospital after an illness can't get home. So ambulances have become the conduit for all health care, and they are constantly out on the road trying to make sure Palestinians survive. This is in addition to the continued need for emergency service, which is exacerbated by semi-daily shootings of Palestinian civilians by the Israeli army. (See Nablus reports on the army's random shootings of Palestinians during lifting/re-imposition of curfew.)

But every minute that a Palestinian ambulance is on the road or attending to a patient is dangerous. Although the Israeli army is forced to allow ambulances on the roads, soldiers take every opportunity to impede them, and to ensure that health care workers know they are unsafe. Every roving tank that crosses an ambulance's path stops the ambulance. At every checkpoint (which is not just one blockade on a road, but two, with the army controlling the space between), ambulances are stopped and may be delayed for hours, and then may be stopped and delayed again 100ft later at the other side of the checkpoint.

When internationals are present, stopping an ambulance means checking the ID of everyone on board, including patients; searching the ambulance; searching the EMTs and possibly the patients; and waiting. The ambulance can't move until the army says it can. Often, the soldiers just stand there, delaying it.

When internationals are not present, stopping an ambulance may mean doing all of the above, possibly strip-searching the EMTs, possibly beating them, possibly damaging the ambulance, and randomly delaying for hours.

These criminal violations by the Israeli army of the right to health care are only part of the incredible stress endured by EMTs. Many EMTs are young volunteers, in their early 20s, who have been living full-time at the ambulance depots for months, sleeping on mattresses on the floor between long shifts. Especially under curfew, there's little else to do -- no other work, no school, no place to decompress. So, in addition to spirit-crushing 24-hour curfew and the daily threat of violence directed at their bodies both as Palestinians and EMTs, they face the stress of being medics in a war zone, having no place to go "home for a break", no time for vacation, no forseeable end to their tour of duty, witnessing daily military violence visited on their own community and land, and daily having to fight to get basic treatment to members of their community who need it.

To me, as an American Jew trying to understand how Palestinians are surviving this intense psychological and physical battering, it looks like amazing spirit of resistance combined with zombified carrying-on-with-life. But the truth is, I have no idea how they're doing it. We have the same questions about how Jews, queers and others survived in WWII concentration camps. How much deliberate crushing can a people take and still be alive? People survived the concentration camps, but not everyone came out whole. Although for some Jews that experience reinforced the need to fight oppression, others have clearly lost their sense of justice, turning to violence and conquest. Will Palestinians be like those survivors in 50 years, using past suffering to justify evil acts? I hope not -- they aren't yet.

REPORTS FROM 2 AMBULANCE RUNS, NABLUS

1

Ambulance is called for an older man having chest pains, at the top of a hill:

As we come up the hill, we see that the army has taken over (double-occupied) an apartment building and closed off the road with razor wire. There's no other way up the hill. The army does not let ambulances through road closures. The EMTs acknowledge that there's no way to get to the patient, but there's still a danger that the army will notice us. If they do, they'll stop us, search us (or worse) and delay us indefinitely. The driver quietly rolls the ambulance back down the hill until we're out of the line of sight, and breathes a huge sigh of relief.

2

Ambulance is called for a Palestinian man caught by the Israeli army on the street during curfew, with reported trauma, possibly beaten:

We turn the corner onto the street where the ambulance call came from, and are suddenly face-to-face with a tank. One soldier is hanging out of the top of it pointing an M-16 at us, and two are on the ground. We can't see the injured man, but the EMTs assume the army is hiding him behind the tank.

The soldier motions for us all to get out of the ambulance. I just met this tank 15 minutes ago riding in a different ambulance, so I've already shown them my ID and told them I'm a human rights monitor. They ignore me, and tell the two Palestinian EMTs to lift their shirts, supposedly looking for strapped-on explosives or weapons. (On other occasions, soldiers have strip-searched EMTs.) They take the EMTs identification cards, which they hold onto as a sort of threat -- a Palestinian can't go anywhere without an ID card. Then they tell us to step away from the ambulance, and they start to search it. It's a totally meaningless search -- they open the glove compartment, pull things out, and rifle the medicines. They tell the driver to start the engine, in case there's an ignition bomb. If there actually were any explosives in the ambulance, their search wouldn't have found them -- it was just another half-assed, transparent method of delaying emergency health care and harassing EMTs.

5 minutes have passed since we arrived on the scene. Now that the soldiers have moved us to the side, the EMTs see the patient's legs sticking out from behind the tank, about 25 ft away from us. They ask if they can go to him. The soldiers say no, that he's faking his injuries. They call me over, and closer to the patient, to ask me why I'm not doing human rights work in Israel. Now I can see the patient, propped up against a wall, holding his throat and struggling to breathe. They ask again if they can treat the patient, and the soldiers say no, he's fine and he's under arrest. I ask one soldier outside the tank if he's a doctor, and he says no. The other says he's an EMT. I ask if he'd be willing to sign a paper saying the patient is fine, and point out that 10 minutes have passed. The patient starts to throw up. Now the soldiers say I can approach the patient, but the EMTs can't. I tell them I'm not qualified, and after another minute they give in and let the EMTs come to the patient.

The EMTs come over and check out the patient, and tell the soldiers he needs oxygen. The oxygen hook-up is in the ambulance, so they ask the soldiers if they can bring the patient over. The soldiers say no, the patient is under arrest, and the EMTs have to bring the oxygen out of the ambulance. The EMTs say they can't, and the soldiers just shrug their shoulders.

The EMTs ask permission to walk over to the ambulance to get supplies.
The soldiers say okay, and we bring out their supply box. They put a shunt in the patient's arm and prepare an IV. Just then the soldier in the tank gets a call on his headphones, and calls to the other soldiers.
They get in the tank, hand me the EMTs' and patient's ID cards, and leave.