From the House of Allah to the House of a Palestinian Martyr
It's been awful, mobility is not a possibility and our daily trips are to the shaheed's home and back.... I wrote this yesterday but I have had no access to the Internet as all cafes are closed....
It is September 30, 2000 and this is the first day of a 3-day strike announced yesterday. (all stores, universities, schools, shops, cafes, bakeries are closed--public activity is officially stopped). In reality it is the second day under house arrest and outdoors the ground is burning with anxiety, anger, frustration, tragedy, confusion, and manipulation.
On Friday morning radio broadcasters filled the airwaves with passionate calls to "Come protect al-Haram al-Sharif (aka the Temple Mount). Faisal Husseini sent the same message the night before. But on Friday morning neither Husseini nor the radio broadcasters were present. Instead Israeli soldiers and police filled Jerusalem, they fortified the Old City and stood on its walls, guns aimed at the flow of Palestinian civilians.
Inside the Haram, the Imam gave his khutba with a shrilling fervor. "They have no right to the Haram...They claim the presence of a skeleton only to destroy the Aqsa... They're enslaving us, they're stripping us of our dignity...May Allah grant peace to all of His martyrs, may Allah permit the release of all of our brothers in prison, may Allah make us stronger by uniting the Arab world."
With the adrenaline to defend Jerusalem flowing through the worshippers' blood, prayer began. And as they greeted the angel on their left shoulder, shots rang out from the Western Wall. Israeli soldiers began spraying bullets like rain -- not rubber bullets, but dum-dum bullets (bullets that explode once inside the tissue); Live ammunition intended to kill.
The women and children began to scream and rushed to leave the area of prayer. Bullets poured on them as well--older women fell and couldn't get up, others just stood and cried, children shrieked in fear and panic -- everyone wanted to get out. One Hebronite woman commented that, "It looked like the Day of Judgement."
In the Haram, men were under much greater danger. Israeli soldiers were taking aim only above the waist, with the intent to kill. Injuries came in shoulders, necks, chests and wrists. The men tried to escape from Lion's Gate but the soldiers were there waiting -- swinging their clubs left and right without taking aim. As if dealing with animals and not Palestinians, not people. Lion's Gate is the closest route to the Maqassed Hospital. It is the fastest way to treat the wounded but Israeli soldiers sealed it off in order to check ID cards. So men lay sprawled on top of other men's shoulders, blood gushing out and their mouths hung open. But those who did reach the Maqassed Hospital only walked into a "Sea of Blood"
Palestinians with O-negative blood waited to donate their blood. Family members searched for their relatives. In a Ramallah hospital, one man lay dead waiting to be identified. His picture flashed across television screens, his description through radio
broadcasts; 48 hours later his family identified him, he is from the Al-Shweiki family.
Another broadcast: the number of martyrs is up to 5, Haythem al-Skafi, Hebron; Osama Geda, Jerusalem (shot while trying to donate blood), Bilal Anafani, Abu-Dis.....
Bilal is Rabiha's son, nicknamed Tum-Tum, 26-year old convenient store worker, husband of 3 years, and on the day of his murder his black-eyed, yellow curly-haired daughter turned one year old.
In Abu-Dis, Bilal is legendary for his activity during the Intifada, people fondly recall how he was such a little sheytan (devil). Women hated him because he'd throw rocks from behind their homes and any home from which a stone came was immediately destroyed by the Israeli military. Once, he was shot above his left lung and left thigh and lived. To kill him, Israeli soldiers decided to throw him into a water well. As he hung over the well, his mother came running and screaming and she was able to save him. They say that he was buried with the bullet still embedded in his chest.
After the Intifada, he became more religious and joined the Islamic Movement. He attends every Friday prayer and yesterday before leaving home he asked his wife for ma'lubay (literally "turned upside down", an Arabic meal of chicken and rice). After prayer he joined the other young men who threw stones and in one fatal moment a screeching bullet went through his head above his right eyebrow. He died before he ever got to the Maqassed Hospital.
His friends smuggled his body home, otherwise, Israeli Forces would take it to Tel Aviv for an "autopsy" (as if they didn't know why he died). When his body was brought home his wife was waiting next to the ready ma'lubay, but instead of serving it to Bilal, she and his mother were rushed to the hospital. Both were injected with tranquilizers to calm them down.
Meanwhile, men gathered in front of his home and chanted "Allah-u-Akbar"--women wailed hysterically. Without thinking, Bilal's body was wrapped in a Palestinian flag and set onto a stretcher (traditionally, Muslim corpses are bathed and wrapped in white cloth, but martyrs are different. They are buried in their still hot and flowing blood).
All of Abu-Dis's men gathered and began marching towards the cemetery. Palestinian flags flew above their heads as they chanted fiercely:
"La illaha illa Allah, wal shaheed habib Allah"
(There is no God but Allah and the martyr is dear to Allah)
"Bil roh, bil dem, nifdeek ya Aqsa"
(With soul, with blood, we will redeem you, oh Aqsa)
"Ya shaheed, irtah, irtah, wa ihna inwasel al keefah"
(Oh martyr, rest, rest and we will continue the battle)
At the cemetery, Bilal was lowered into the grave, his face now a bluish-yellow and adorned with a gaping hole above his right eyebrow. Once lowered, the men read a verse from the Qur'an known to all Palestinians:
"Do not think that those who died because of Allah are truly dead--nay, they live still. Their souls are high and present with Allah."
After his burial many men gathered to pay Bilal their respects through a megaphone but as Ahmed Qrei (Abu-'Ala), notorious for his criminal behavior and Head of the Legislative Council in the PA, grabbed the megaphone, all the men turned around and left him alone and unheard.
The men continued marching towards the Abu-Dis/Jerusalem crossing (Ras Kubsa) but Israeli soldiers stopped them with tear gas. So the young men picked up their stones again and the Israeli soldiers began spraying them with live ammunition again...
From the House of Allah to the House of a Palesitinian Martyr
Inside homes, everyone is recalling their own tragedies -- their cousin, nephew, niece, Uncle, son, brother, either imprisoned, killed, wounded... In our house everyone is talking about Nasser, shot through the back of his head as he studied on his rooftop in 1997. They remembered how his head had expanded to the size of a pot during his 3-day colma. They remembered how the sky had turned dark and cried with them endlessly. They remembered how wasteful his martyrdom had been:
"It's not like it used to be during the Intifada -- it's disorganized, boys are just rushing to sacrifice themselves... this always happens when the negotiators need something... this is a good investment for the negotiators in DC so they could say, see it's the Israelis who don't want peace...in the end the politicians are the only ones who win."
And lo and behold, at 10 pm Faisal Husseini is on our television screen angry and lamenting "See it's the Israelis who don't want peace."
This morning all of the Occupied Territories are on fire, Bethlehem, Hebron, Jenin, Abu Dis, Ramallah, Al-Bireh.....the clashes continue between Palestinian civilians and Israeli soldiers. Seven more Palestinians have died and now the total number is up to 12, injured over 300.
And I can't help but think, "How is this equal suffering when the army comes to us and we don't go to them? When it's an Israeli soldier adorned with a gun longer than his arms, live ammunition, combat boots, a helmet and a shield against an angry and vengeful boy in his school/work clothes scraping to find a stone large enough to make an impact?"
"How is it equal suffering when Israeli citizens in Yaffa, Tel Aviv, Kibbutz Moran, kibbutz Shfayim... are still going about their lives as usual, interrupting it briefly to listen to how 'Arafat has given all the Palestinians weapons and ordered them to run into the streets'?
No one is rushing to hurt them, no one is spraying tear gas at their doorsteps to make them prisoners in their own homes...this is not "equal" suffering; this is not a situation that requires a peace process. Where is the UN to order adherence to international laws now? Where is the War Crime Tribunal to charge heads of state with the ruthless murder of civilians?
Where is Clinton to bawl, "Barak you have gone too far" -- he is too busy telling Arafat that he needs to be more willing to compromise. How can he compromise anything more than his own people?
Bilal has a 23-year old brother who has been in Israeli prison for the past 6 years. To this date his family does not know what his "crime" is. Tomorrow Khalil will be released from prison and the night before Bilal's murder he was cleaning the house to make room for his brother's big and joyous welcoming party. Today the space is being used for Bilal's going-away instead.
I was told not to wear black, "We are not going to mourn, we are going to congratulate his family. Their son has died honourably and into Allah's embrace." So I wore olive green instead--the color of our rich heritage, and I walked into a storm of colors all intending to congratulate but betrayed instead by their hot and forceful tears.
His mother sat in front of a small figurine of the Dome of the Rock surrounded by three of his sisters. At first she sat motionless but soon she began to cry like a moaning cat -- an agonizing, incomprehensible wail... her daughter sat in front of her rocking in place and crying, "Imagine where he is right now, imagine where he is right now, imagine..."
His 20-year old wife was led into the room. She must have been drugged because her stare was blank and her mouth formed a protruding and immobile pout. Her sister-in-law sat her down on a chair where she sat unaware, zombie-like, numb and deaf to the physical world....women swarmed to kiss her cheek and she continued to stare at nothing and nowhere.
His sister walked about the room with his daughter in her arms. As she walked towards the door his daughter let out a painful scream -- a picture of her father printed on a poster dedicated to all martyrs hung on the door and she kept slapping it, repeatedly calling out "Baba".
Women read verses from the Qur'an, others cried, others talked of their own loved ones and I imagined the other 11 homes that looked just like this one.
***since I wrote this, 24 more Palestinians have become martyrs and a total of 10 boys have been shot through their eyes.