This
week we have heard of the two Palestinian attacks on Israelis
resulting in the deaths of ten people. However, the 43 deaths
of Palestinians over the past three weeks have not been considered
newsworthy. Away from the gunfire, a psychological warfare is
being waged. Where the occupation imposes curfews, roadblocks
and checkpoints deny Palestinians their basic human needs such
as the distribution of food and medical supplies, and education,
contravening International Law under the Geneva Convention.
I have
returned from Deir Ibzya, a small village near Ramallah consisting
of 1500 people. Deir Ibzya is easy to fall in love with. Set in
the mountains, surrounded by rolling hills, which on a clear day
you can see the light bouncing off the sea all the way in Tel
Aviv. It is hard to imagine that only two weeks ago, this village
had the physical presence of tanks, APC's and soldiers looming
over the hills, suffocating Deir Ibzya's economy and threatening
its people. The infrastructure of Deir Ibzya's economy relies
on its quick and easy access to Ramallah. However, what used to
be a 15-minute drive to Ramallah is now, thanks to the checkpoints
and roadblocks, a 4 hour journey. The imposition of the curfew
renders mobility between Deir Ibzya and Ramallah impossible. This
has many harsh effects on the livelihood of Deir Ibzya, as people
can't get to work, thus they have no money. Food is even more
difficult to distribute, thus it costs more money. The repercussions
of immobility know no end, from the small details of not obtaining
any chicken feed, resulting the death of the trade of meat and
eggs, as well as contributing to the lack of food. To the diminishing
hope of the inhabitants under the occupation, whose morale sinks
lower and lower, as they live under the constant fear of attack
starvation and imprisonment in their own homes.
Blackouts
are common, either due to the electricity supply being cut off,
or the generators being so old, yet the village is unable to replace
them. Israeli aircraft add to the terror, as F16's become a regular
occurrence, and the sound of gunshots in other towns carry over
the hills. To heighten the isolation of this small village are
the illegal settlements that surround Deir Ibzya on two adjacent
sides. In my time there I was involved in a summer camp, catering
for anything up to 150-250 children. The summer camp was arranged
by a local man named Deeb Kamal, and provided English lessons,
Art classes, Sports, Dancing and singing sessions.
I had
the good fortune of taking the art class, which consisted of 25-30
kids between the ages of 11-15. It was the most rewarding experience
of my whole life. I wanted the kids to create some images of how
they felt about Palestine, if possible to explore their feelings
in a context of hope and not suffering. On the first day, I set
the project 'What I love about Palestine'. I managed to communicate
this idea without the help of a translator; it took a lot of gesticulating
and physical demonstrations before anyone knew what to do. However,
once these kids understood the project nothing could stop them.
They were bursting at the seams with creative energy. I got beautiful
images of mountains, trees, rivers and seas with fishes, and candles
inscribed with the word 'peace'. It’s hard to imagine that
just two weeks before this, they were not even allowed to leave
the house. Deeb Kamal, the director of the camp claimed that before
this was set up you would rarely catch any of these village children
smiling.
It is
clear to me that these kids had a desperate need for expression,
as once they understood the project they we're so self - directed.
They produced some amazingly colourful images of what they idealised
about Palestine, although there were a few images of refugee camps
with people carrying shahids (those killed by Israelis). I didn't
quite know what to say about these. Another project that was given
to this class was to create an image of how they idealize themselves
in the future. These kids have dreams just like the rest of us-
I saw images of dentists, doctors and art teachers- to name a
few. It is so clear to me that all these kids need is a chance.
The situation they are finding themselves in is abysmal. They
are being deprived of their basic needs. Their education is constantly
undermined by the occupation. This is particularly evident when
the IDF broke into a school to vandalize it. The small village
is further isolated by surrounding illegal settlements. During
my stay in Deir Ibzya there was another blackout, which coincided
with the helicopters settling over Ramallah and the sound of firing.
The next day, I discovered that occurrences like that were part
of these peoples every day lives. They were so accustomed to the
sound of attack they didn't seem to notice or be surprised by
them anymore.
Although
the tanks have left the hills of Deir Ibzya, occasionally soldiers
still pass through the village, fuelling people's sense of feeling
unsafe within their own homes. Under the occupation people are
unable to live their lives. The most they can do is sit at home
and panic. When they chance on watching the news, it is they who
are being portrayed as the persecutors, further isolating them
from the rest of the world.
This
is why an international presence, such as the ISM, has such significant
implications, as it denies the IDF the chance to persecute whilst
the world isn't watching. It also helps to boost the morale of
the Palestinian people, many of whom believe the world is against
them. It seems that there is a difference between knocking people
down and keeping them down. The Israelis have succeeded in breaking
Palestinian morale, now what they are striving to achieve using
psychological warfare is leaving them with no hope. In the many
interviews I had taken, when asked 'What hope do you have for
the future?', the answer is always negative. Even when the physical
presence of the soldiers is not there, Palestinian people are
forced to live under its shadow.
