Riceviamo dalla dottoressa Paola Canarutto e pubblichiamo.
1) La ‘logica’ dell’IDF: chi è ucciso da Israele è per definizione un terrorista, e i terroristi meritano per definizione la morte: http://www.btselem.org/english/firearms/20061102_Who_is_a_Terrorist.asp
2) Alla base delle azioni di Israele c’è il puro e semplice razzismo del potere coloniale europeo, nel XIX e XX secolo. Per la pulizia etnica, ora Israele può utilizzare di essere l’unico potere che controlla i confini, l’anagrafe, i visti, le carte di identità e i passaporti dei palestinesi
La Giordania ha con Israele un trattato di pace, ma non può utilizzarlo per chiedere a Israele i permessi di unificazione famigliare, quando un coniuge è giordano e l’altro è palestinese: Israele ha 120.000 domande di unificazione famigliare, a cui non risponde
E Israele proclama al mondo che deve difendersi dagli abitanti di Gaza – che sono in larga maggioranza coloro che furono cacciati dal territorio che nel ’48 divenne Israele ed i discendenti di questi – onde si costituisse lo stato degli ebrei: http://www.kibush.co.il/show_file.asp?num=17207
3) Picchiare manifestanti palestinesi disarmati, vicino a Betlemme, che protestano perchè il Muro impedisce – anche durante la raccolta delle olive! – di raggiungere i propri campi: http://www.palsolidarity.org/main/2006/11/03/khadr-olive-action/
4) I palestinesi non hanno il permesso di andare al Mar Morto. Da una mail di Dorothy Naor
The … report is somewhat lighter in nature, but nevertheless involves a soldier attempting to stop a Palestinian from just enjoying a small bit of life. The soldier in this piece sounds like a decent sort, but his being a soldier in the IOF–an occupation army–is itself indecent. And the fact that the Palestinian succeeded in having his evening at the beach was because he outwitted the soldier, not because the soldier gave in.
Please, badger your representatives and diplomats to pressure Israel to get out of Gaza, and to stay out, and to give the Palestinians freedom. Israel since the so-called pullout or disengagement (a disingenuous term) has controlled all of Gazas air, sea, and land exits. And indeed, as our young correspondent pleads, where is the world in all of this? Does no one care?
Date: Sun, 05 Nov 2006 11:08:31 -0500
Subject: [hannahreports] just a day at the beach
The following is a report from a friend of mine who is currently in
Palestine. She’s written many that I’ve wanted to forward – about her human
rights work, her interviews with Palestinian kids who have been detained and
tortured, and more. They’re all incredibly moving, but for some reason I
particularly love this report. I won’t forward others but if you want to be
on her e-mail list, you can write to email@example.com. She’s coming back
to the US in a couple weeks, so you probably won’t get too many more e-mails
from her even if you do sign up.
I hope you’re all doing well, and I hope you’re all outraged/inspired by the
continuous repression/resistance taking place in Palestine, Mexico, and
The other night I drove with a friend up to the coast of the Dead Sea,
thinking how incredible it was that we hadn’t been stopped in our
tracks within fifteen minutes. My friend hadn’t seen the Dead Sea in
six years, although access to the beach is within the borders of the
West Bank and is a quick drive from his house. He had tried to bring
his niece three years before, but was turned back by Israeli soldiers.
Usually there is a checkpoint on the road from Ramallah to the beach,
and Israel maintains all control over the Dead Sea, as it controls
access to all water supplies in Palestine. But my friend had heard a
rumor that the soldiers were now leaving after 5:00 at night, so we
decided to just drive until we reached a checkpoint. I wondered what
kind of "security reasons" made it necessary to block Palestinians’
access to the Beach during the day, when they may want to bring their
kids for an outing, but leave it wide open at night.
We finally hit a checkpoint after half an hour of driving, and came
face to face with three soldiers who were wondering how the hell we
had made it that far- they could see straight away that our car had
the green Palestinian license plates and not the yellow Israeli
plates. I asked my friend if we should turn around, and avoid
questions, but he was feeling a bit impulsive that night, and would
not be turned back that easily.
The soldier approached our car and asked abruptly, "What are you doing
"Hi," my friend said cheerfully, in perfect English. "We’re just
taking a little evening trip to the beach. Nice night for hit, huh?"
He looked back confused.
"Um, can I see your passports?"
I handed him my passport, which seemed to satisfy him momentarily. He
then looked to my friend.
"Oh, did you want to see mine as well?" he asked.
The soldier nodded and smiled.
My friend went into his pocket and pulled out his green Palestinian ID.
The soldier’s smile vanished.
"I’m sorry", he said, "but I can’t let you pass."
"That’s ridiculous," my friend said, trying to sound as ignorant as
possible. "This is her first time to the area, and I really want to
show her the sea. Why don’t you just let us pass?"
This was clearly a foreign experience for that particular soldier- a
Palestinian who was speaking perfect English (and a little German) to
him, driving in a nice car with an American girl, on their way to an
evening at the beach. The nice car, the English, and the American girl
were most likely the source of his moral ambiguity.
"Well…you can wait here, and give her the car," he said. "Then she
can go to the beach and come back for you".
"What kind of fun would that be?" I asked.
"I’m really not sure miss," he responded.
We again tried to reason with him, told him that we only wanted to go
to the beach for an hour, that he could keep our IDs to make sure that
we’d come back.
"I just can’t. I don’t have that authority," he explained. "I’m sorry."
This was the first time that either of us had heard a soldier utter
the phrase "I’m sorry" and seem genuinely regretful of the position he
"Oh course you have the authority. You’re the one standing here with a
gun on your arm and your hand on the hood of our car," my friend
"I’m sorry," he said again. "My conscience just won’t allow you to pass."
"Your conscience?" I asked. "It will hurt your conscience more to let
us pass then to hold two friends back, for no explicable reason, from
spending a few hours at the beach?"
"Look, I wish I could, but I just can’t," he said. "I only have 14
weeks left of my service, and I just need to get it done. I wish I
could help you."
All I could think was, why can’t you? When did you get to the point
where you won’t risk anything for what you know is right?
I’ve heard many stories from friends here who have taken the
opportunity, even if just for a moment, to question the absurdity of
this occupation. It’s always a small gesture, nothing that would get
any media attention. Maybe they’ll try and drive through a checkpoint
on the lane reserved for Israeli settlers, knowing full well that they
will be stopped. They just want the opportunity to make a soldier
explain exactly why it’s okay for a settler to drive freely in the
West Bank, but not Palestinians. They want to make them say it out
loud. Sometimes it makes no difference, but every once in a while you
can put a mirror up to someone’s face.
I wish I could report that the soldier lifted his hand from the hood
of the car and let us pass that night, but he didn’t. In the end we
somehow found our way to the sea. We drove out to a private
Israeli-only beach, ten minutes back down the road. The only access to
the water was through this restaurant, where they seemed to be having
a live comedy show and party. We were the only green plated car in the
My friend walked in confidently and asked where the entrance to the
beach was. The hostess sized us up, and hesitantly asked us for 40
shekels each. I started to put up a fight, marveling at the irony that
she was charging my friend money to visit the sea.
"It’s worth it," he said, and paid the woman.
We walked past the private tennis courts and the open bar, climbed
down the steps, and my friend put his feet in the water of the Dead
Sea for the first time in six years. For over an hour we sat in
silence, staring across the water at the lights of Jordan.
That feeling of peace lasted for the rest of the night, even as we
walked back into the parking lot and quietly slipped past the two
military jeeps that were predictably surrounding our car, nodding
goodbye to the soldiers inside.
I was speaking with one of my colleagues the other day about the
incessant call coming from the U.S. for "peace on both sides", or
"acceptance of Israel" from the Palestinians. The insistence that
Palestinians and Israelis just need to learn to get along and work
together for a solution to the conflict.
"It is not my job to create organizations that work for a ‘cooperative
solution’," he said. "There are many of organizations in Palestine
that do this, that try and find ways to bring peace between us and
Israelis, but this shouldn’t be our responsibility. As the oppressed
party, my only job should be to speak out against oppression and to
resist it. That is all. And it’s the job of the Israelis to stop
committing acts of oppression.
It’s that simple."
These are the words that flash though my mind as I huddle with friends
around the TV and, watching pictures of women lying in the middle of
the street in Gaza. Shot dead for holding up their part of that