Friday, April 13, 2007
Sunday, November 26, 2006
'I can't imagine anyone who considers himself a human being can do this'
'I can't imagine anyone who considers himself a human being can do this'On Friday a four-year-old Palestinian boy was shot dead by a soldier - the most recent child victim of the Israeli army. Chris McGreal investigates a shocking series of deaths Monday July 28, 2003The Guardian
Nine-year-old Abdul Rahman Jadallah's promise to the corpse of the shy little girl who lived up the street was, in all probability, kept for him by an Israeli bullet. The boy - Rahman to his family - barely knew Haneen Suliaman in life. But whenever there was a killing in the dense Palestinian towns of southern Gaza he would race to the morgue to join the throng around the mutilated victim. Then he would tag along with the surging, angry funerals of those felled by rarely seen soldiers hovering far above in helicopters or cocooned behind the thick concrete of their pillboxes. Haneen, who was eight years old, had been shot twice in the head by an Israeli soldier as she walked down the street in Khan Yunis refugee camp with her mother, Lila Abu Selmi.
Nine-year-old Abdul Rahman Jadallah's promise to the corpse of the shy little girl who lived up the street was, in all probability, kept for him by an Israeli bullet. The boy - Rahman to his family - barely knew Haneen Suliaman in life. But whenever there was a killing in the dense Palestinian towns of southern Gaza he would race to the morgue to join the throng around the mutilated victim. Then he would tag along with the surging, angry funerals of those felled by rarely seen soldiers hovering far above in helicopters or cocooned behind the thick concrete of their pillboxes. Haneen, who was eight years old, had been shot twice in the head by an Israeli soldier as she walked down the street in Khan Yunis refugee camp with her mother, Lila Abu Selmi.
'I can't imagine anyone who considers himself a human being can do this'On Friday a four-year-old Palestinian boy was shot dead by a soldier - the most recent child victim of the Israeli army. Chris McGreal investigates a shocking series of deaths Monday July 28, 2003The Guardian
Nine-year-old Abdul Rahman Jadallah's promise to the corpse of the shy little girl who lived up the street was, in all probability, kept for him by an Israeli bullet. The boy - Rahman to his family - barely knew Haneen Suliaman in life. But whenever there was a killing in the dense Palestinian towns of southern Gaza he would race to the morgue to join the throng around the mutilated victim. Then he would tag along with the surging, angry funerals of those felled by rarely seen soldiers hovering far above in helicopters or cocooned behind the thick concrete of their pillboxes. Haneen, who was eight years old, had been shot twice in the head by an Israeli soldier as she walked down the street in Khan Yunis refugee camp with her mother, Lila Abu Selmi.
Article continues
"Almost every day here the Israelis shoot at random, so when you hear it you get inside as quickly as possible," says Mrs Selmi. "Haneen went to the grocery store to buy some crisps. When the shooting started, I came out to find her. She was coming down the street and ran to me and hugged me, crying, 'Mother, mother'. Two bullets hit her in the head, one straight after the other. She was still in my arms and she died."
Later that day, the crowds pushed into the morgue at the local hospital to see the young girl on the slab, partly in homage, partly to vent their anger. Rahman pressed his way to the front so he could touch Haneen. Then he went home and told his mother, Haniya Abed Atallah, that he too wanted to die. "Rahman went to the morgue and kissed Haneen. He came home and told us he had promised the dead girl he would die too. I made him apologise to his father," Mrs Atallah says.
Weeks passed and another Israeli bullet shattered the life of another young Palestinian girl. Huda Darwish was sitting at her school desk when a cluster of shots ripped through the top of a tree outside her classroom and buried themselves in the wall. But one ricocheted off the window frame, smashed through the glass and lodged in the 12-year-old girl's brain. Huda's teacher, Said Sinwar, was standing in front of the blackboard. "It was a normal lesson when suddenly there was this shooting without any warning. The children were terrified and trying to run. I was shouting at them to get under their desks. Suddenly the bullet hit the little girl and she slumped to the floor with a sigh, not even screaming," he says.
Sinwar dragged Huda from under her desk and ran with her across the road to the hospital, itself scarred by Israeli bullets. After weeks in hospital, she has started breathing for herself again, through a windpipe cut into her throat. She has regained use of her arms and legs, but will be blind for the rest of her life.
Rahman was in another class at the same school. The next day, lessons were cancelled and the boy defied his mother to tag along at the funeral of a slain Palestinian fighter. The burial evolved into the ritual protest of children marching to the security fence that separates Gaza's dense and beggared Khan Yunis refugee camp from the spacious religious exclusivity of the neighbouring Jewish settlement. As Rahman hung a Palestinian flag on the fence, a bullet caught him under his left eye. He died on the spot. "It looks as if the soldiers saw him put the flag on the fence and they shot him," says Rahman's brother, 19-year-old Ijaram. "There were many kids next to him, next to the fence. But he was the only one carrying the flag. Why else would they have shot him?"
Britain's chief rabbi, Jonathan Sacks, recently praised the Israeli military as the most humanitarian in the world because it claims to risk its soldiers' lives to avoid killing innocent Palestinians. It is a belief echoed by most Israelis, who revere the army as an institution of national salvation. Yet among the most shocking aspects of the past three years of intifada that has no shortage of horrors - not least the teenage suicide bombers revelling in mass murder - has been the killing of children by the Israeli army.
The numbers are staggering; one in five Palestinian dead is a child. The Palestinian Centre for Human Rights (PCHR) says at least 408 Palestinian children have been killed since the beginning of the intifada in September 2000. Nearly half were killed in the Gaza strip, and most of those died in two refugee camps in the south, Khan Yunis and Rafah. The PCHR says they were victims of "indiscriminate shooting, excessive force, a shoot-to-kill policy and the deliberate targeting of children".
And children continue to die, even after the ceasefire declared by Hamas and other groups at the end of June. On Friday, a soldier at a West Bank checkpoint shot dead a four-year-old boy, Ghassan Kabaha, and wounded his two young sisters after "accidentally" letting loose at a car with a burst of machinegun fire from his armoured vehicle. The rate of killing since the beginning of the ceasefire has dropped sharply, but almost every day the army has continued to fire heavy machineguns into Khan Yunis or Rafah. Among the latest victims of apparently indiscriminate shooting were three teenagers and an eight-year-old, Yousef Abu Jaza, hit in the knee when soldiers shot at a group of children playing football in Khan Yunis.
The military says it is difficult to distinguish between youths and men who might be Palestinian fighters, but the statistics show that nearly a quarter of the children killed were under 12. Last year alone, 50 children under the age of eight were shot dead or blown up by the Israeli army in Gaza: eight, one of whom was two months old, were slaughtered when a one-tonne bomb was dropped on a block of flats to kill a lone Hamas leader, Sheikh Salah Mustafa Shehada. But Rahman, Huda and Haneen were not "collateral damage" in the assassination of Hamas "terrorists", or caught in crossfire. There was no combat when they were shot. There was nothing more than a single burst of fire, sometimes a single bullet, from an Israeli soldier's gun.
It was the same when seven-year-old Ali Ghureiz was shot in the head on the street outside his house in Rafah. And when Haneen Abu Sitta, 12, was killed while walking home after school near the fence with a Jewish settlement in southern Gaza. And when Nada Madhi, also 12, was shot in the stomach and died as she leaned out of her bedroom window in Rafah to watch the funeral procession for another child killed earlier.
The army offered a senior officer of its southern command to discuss the shooting of these six children over a period of just 10 weeks earlier this year. The military told me I could not name him, even though his identity is no secret to the Israeli public or his enemies; it was this officer who explained to the nation how an army bulldozer came to crush to death the young American peace activist, Rachel Corrie.
"I want you to know we are not a bunch of crazies down here," he says. At his headquarters in the Gush Khatif Jewish settlement in Gaza, the commander rattles through the army's version of the shootings: either the military knew nothing of them, or the children had been caught in crossfire - a justification used so frequently, and so often disproved, that it is rarely believed. But three hours later, after poring over maps and military logs, timings and regulations, he concedes that his soldiers were responsible - even culpable - in several of the killings.
The Israeli army's instinctive response is to muddy the waters when confronted with a controversial killing. At first, it questioned whether Huda was even shot. I described for the soldiers the scene in the classroom with blood rippling up the wall behind the child's desk.
"I don't know how this happened," says the commander. "I take responsibility for this. It could have been one of ours. I think it probably was."
The killing of Haneen is clearer in the commander's mind. "We checked it and we know that on the same day there was shooting of a mortar," he says. "The troops from the post shot back at the area where the mortar was launched, the area where the girl was killed. We didn't see if we hit someone. I assume that a stray bullet hit Haneen. Unfortunately." Doesn't he think that simply shooting back in the general direction of a mortar attack is irresponsible at best? He says not. "You cannot have soldiers sitting and doing nothing when they are shot at," he says.
Haneen's mother, Mrs Selmi, believes her daughter was shot from "the container". The metal box dangling from a crane evokes more constant fear in Khan Yunis than the helicopter rocket attacks and tank incursions. Nestled inside is an Israeli sniper shielded by camouflage netting and hoisted high enough to see deep into the refugee camp. From inside, it is striking how much the box moves around in the wind, leaving little hope of an accurate shot. Peering from behind the camouflage, the view is mostly of Palestinian houses riddled with bullet holes, a testament to the scale of incoming Israeli fire. Haneen's home sits a few metres from the security fence separating Khan Yunis from the Jewish settlement. But, because the house is inhabited, the damage is mostly limited to the upper floor, with 27 bulletholes around the windows. "In this area, we shoot at the houses," says the Israeli commander. "We don't want people on the second floor. I gave the order: shoot at the windows."
He may concede his soldiers are responsible for shooting Huda and Haneen, but he denies their responsibility for the slaying of Rahman, the nine-year-old shot while hanging the flag at the security fence. "We saw the children, we saw them for sure. They always demonstrate in this area after funerals. But I don't have any report from the troops on our shooting on this occasion," he says. "We have rules of engagement that we don't shoot children."
Seven-year-old Ali Ghureiz's father scoffs at the claim. "They meant to kill him, for sure," says Talab Ghureiz. "I can't imagine anyone who considers himself a human being can do this."
The killing of Ali and wounding of his five-year-old brother is particularly disturbing because the commander admits there was no combat and the boys were the focus of the soldier's attention. The Ghureiz house lies on the very edge of Rafah. At the bottom of the street, an Israeli armoured vehicle and guard posts sit in the midst of a "no-go" area of tangled wire, broken buildings and mud. On the other side is the Egyptian border. "There were three kids. They were playing 50m from the house," says Ghureiz. "The Israelis fired two or three bullets, maybe more. No one could have made a mistake. They were only 100m from the children. I don't know why they did it. Ali was shot in the face immediately below his left eye. It was a big bullet. It did a lot of damage," he whispers.
"This is the first I've heard of this," says the commander. "According to the log, in the afternoon there were children trying to cross the border. The tower fired five bullets and didn't report any children hurt. Usually with children this age, we don't shoot. There is a very strict rule of engagement about shooting at children. You don't do it." But Ali is dead. "They [Palestinian fighters] send children to the fence. An older guy, usually 25 or so, gives them the order to go to the fence, or dig next to it. They know we don't shoot at children. If one of my soldiers goes out to chase them away, a sniper will be waiting for him."
Fences usually mark defined limits but, as with so much in the occupied territories, the rules are deliberately vague. There is an ill-defined ban on "approaching" the security fences separating Gaza from Israel or the Jewish settlements. "We have a danger zone 100 to 200m from the fence around Gush Katif [settlement]. They [the Palestinians] know where the danger zone is," the commander says. But many houses in Rafah and Khan Yunis are within the "danger zone". Children play in its shadow, and many adults fear walking to their own front doors.
"We have in our rules of engagement how to handle this," the commander says. "During the day, if someone is inside the zone without a weapon and not attempting to harm or with hostile intent, then we do not shoot. If he has a weapon or hostile intent, you can shoot to kill. If he doesn't have a weapon, you shoot 50m from him into something solid that will stop the bullet, like a wall. You shoot twice in the air, and if he continues to move then you are allowed to shoot him in the leg."
The regulations are drummed into every soldier, but there is ample evidence that the army barely enforces them. The military's critics say the vast majority of soldiers do not commit such crimes but those that do are rarely called to account. The result is an atmosphere of impunity. Israel's army chief-of-staff, Lieutenant General Moshe Yaalon, claims that every shooting of a civilian is investigated. "Harming innocent civilians is firstly a matter of morals and values, and we cannot permit ourselves to let this happen. I deal with it personally," he told the Israeli press. But Yaalon has not dealt personally with any of the killings of the six children reported on here.
The army's indifferent handling of the shootings of civilians has even drawn stinging criticism from a member of Ariel Sharon's Likud party in the Israeli parliament, Michael Eitan. "I am not certain that the responsible officials are aware of the fact that there are gross violations of human rights in the field, despite army regulations," he said.
The case of Khalil al-Mughrabi is telling. The 11-year-old was shot dead in Rafah by the Israeli army two years ago as he played football with a group of friends near the security fence. One of Israel's most respected human rights organisations, B'Tselem, wrote to the judge advocate general's office, responsible for prosecuting soldiers, demanding an inquiry. Months later, the office wrote back saying that Khalil was shot by soldiers who acted with "restraint and control" to disperse a riot in the area. However, the judge advocate general's office made the mistake of attaching a copy of its own, supposedly secret, investigation which came to a quite different conclusion - that the riot had been much earlier in the day and the soldiers who shot the child should not have opened fire. The report says a "serious deviation from obligatory norms of behaviour" took place.
In the report, the chief military prosecutor, Colonel Einat Ron, then spelled out alternative false scenarios that should be offered to B'Tselem. B'Tselem said the internal report confirmed that the army has a policy of covering up its crimes. "The message that the judge advocate general's office transmits to soldiers is clear: soldiers who violate the 'Open Fire Regulations', even if their breach results in death, will not be investigated and will not be prosecuted."
Towards the end of the interview, the commander in Gaza finally concedes that his soldiers were at fault to some degree or other in the killing of most - but not all - of the children we discussed. They include a 12-year-old girl, Haneen Abu Sitta, shot dead in Rafah as she walked home from school near a security fence around one of the fortified Jewish settlements. The army moved swiftly to cover it up. It leaked a false story to more compliant parts of the Israeli media, claiming Haneen was shot during a gun battle between troops and "terrorists" in an area known for weapons smuggling across the border from Egypt. But the army commander concedes that there was no battle. "Every name of a child here, it makes me feel bad because it's the fault of my soldiers. I need to learn and see the mistakes of my troops," he says. But by the end of the interview, he is combative again. "I remember the Holocaust. We have a choice, to fight the terrorists or to face being consumed by the flames again," he says.
The Israeli army insists that interviews with its commanders about controversial issues are off the record. Depending on what the officer says, that bar is sometimes lifted. I ask to be able to name the commander in Gaza. The army refuses. "He has admitted his soldiers were responsible for at least some of those killings," says an army spokesman who sat in on the interview. "In this day and age that raises the prospect of war crimes, not here but if he travels abroad he could be arrested some time in the future. Some people might think there is something wrong here."
December 3, 2002 Palestinian Children in the Night
December 3, 2002
Palestinian Children in the Night
by SAM BAHOUR
November, 29. Under curfew.
It happened last night. Ramallah was pitch dark and the breeze was cool and brisk. For the first time in as long as I can remember, I was out during the night with my wife and two daughters, Areen, 8 and Nadine, 2. We were taking advantage of the lull in nightly curfews imposed by the Israeli military over the past year. We found ourselves in the midst of a crowd of over 300 cheering Palestinians. Between us and another group of a few dozen Palestinian youth were two United Nations Development Programme (UNDP) representatives. The two representatives were clearly American, in looks and accent. A few of the Palestinians standing behind the UNDP representatives slowly walked up behind them and one pulled from a bag what looked like a one meter wooden bat. Our hearts beating, and before we could clearly make out what was happening, the Palestinian boy holding this object unraveled a most beautiful and colorful Palestinian embroidery piece. The embroidery was attached to a wooden rod and the Palestinian teenager proudly held it up and presented it to the two UNDP representatives as a gift for their support. This was the final few minutes in what was a moving and fabulous one-hour debut of the Palestinian Folk Vista, by Bara'em El-Funoun, a new generation of the El-Funoun Palestinian Popular Dance Troupe.
Bara'em is Arabic for "buds". El-Funoun is Arabic for "the arts". Bara'em El-Funoun is the offshoot of the renowned El-Funoun Palestinian Popular Dance Troupe (http://www.el-funoun.org/), a music and dance ensemble, inspired by universal elements of folk art and their particular expression in Arab-Palestinian popular heritage and folklore. Bara'em El-Funoun is the embodiment of a new generation of dancers, a generation that is determined to safeguard and advance Palestinian culture and heritage through dance, music and song.
We are in the midst of the holy month of Ramadan. Ramadan in Ramallah has historically been marked by joyous evenings during the cool and breezy nights following the breaking of daylight fast. This year is an exception, as was last year. For the last two years the Israeli occupation has stripped all evidence of normal life from Palestinian streets. Whereas the city centers would once have been open for business late into the evening to cater to Ramadan shoppers and holiday-goers, today only a handful of businesses venture to open their doors after nightfall, fearing the volatile security situation and realizing that their patrons prefer to not risk the surprise Israeli raids and patrols within the city.
Last night was different. Over 300 Palestinians were invited to attend the first performance of El-Funoun's youth dance group. The mere invitation to such an event during these troubled times sparked a deep sense of defiance toward occupation in each of us. It was as if this youth dance group and those organizing them were calling for popular action to counter the Israeli military activities that have brought our cultural lives to a standstill. The action was clearly defined and well planned - a forceful demonstration by way of dance, music and song that Palestinian culture is alive and well, undamaged by Israeli tanks, armored personnel carriers and F-16's that have permanently scarred each of our streets, neighborhoods and families.
We entered the Ramallah Municipality Hall along with dozens of other families. Parents, children, elders and many friends gathered together in public for the first time in quite a while to celebrate a positive and cheerful event. For us it was a special event too. My wife Abeer was a dancer with the El-Funoun dance troupe back in the late 80's and my daughter Areen is currently training in dance at classes at the Popular Arts Center (PAC) with great hopes of one day being accepted into the Bara'em troupe and then graduating into the El-Funoun troupe.
This tribute to Palestinian culture came with a story, like most events in Palestine these days. Bara'em members rehearsed most of the Palestinian Folk Vista production during Israeli-imposed military curfews. On one occasion, they were all trying to reach the studio (at the PAC in Al-Bireh,) when they suddenly saw an Israeli armored personnel carrier (APC) parked right outside the studio entrance. Khaled, the dance trainer, was with them, and he was terrified that troupe members would be hurt. He bore the millstone of responsibility. After all, it was he who had convinced the parents to let their children challenge the curfew to get to the rehearsals. He panicked, and suddenly, one of the Bara'em girls decided to walk to the entrance despite the presence of that APC. Everyone else followed and they made it to practice! The soldiers did not interfere this time, luckily.
Bara'em's performance was stunning. The smiles of the dancers were refreshing. As Omar Barghouti, one of the proud choreographers, told me following the event: "Those children became real dancers with power, passion and a very convincing ability to convey the choreographed themes, to entertain and to impress. Our children are not reduced to mere victims, who solicit sympathy; they have a presence that demands solidarity and support. This has been El-Funoun's direction for decades now, and we can finally take pride in passing it on to our next generation of El- Funoun members, Bara'em."
In the middle of the performance my nephew, Yacoub, 14, took the stage to present a musical solo on the Qanun, a zither-like musical instrument with 26 triple courses of strings and one of the oldest oriental string instruments in Arabic music. As Yacoub fine-tuned his instrument, you could have heard a pin drop while the audience waited in anticipation. My two-year-old daughter seized the opportunity to yell out to her cousin from the middle of the hall, "Yacoub!" It was her way of expressing her excitement of the moment and she brought the entire audience to a warm laugh.
Dance after dance, these young boys and girls dazzled the audience with their agility and outstanding ability to synchronize with the traditional songs depicting the love of life that resides in all Palestinians, a love that appreciates the wonders of nature, respects land and refuses to forget those living in poverty and exile. Each girl dancer wore a traditional embroidered Arabic dress, full of color and full of life. The young boy dancers each wore a simple loose traditional garment reflecting those worn by Palestinian peasants and farmers for hundreds of years.
A scan of the audience brought sadness and hope. A friend, and one of the El-Funoun choreographers, Mrs. Lana Abu Hijleh, sat close to the stage and looked on with a bright smile. This performance was an accomplishment she had a right to be proud of. To see her smile brought hope, especially given that it was only a few weeks ago we paid our respects to her and her family after her mother was murdered by an Israeli solider in the Palestinian City of Nablus as she sat on the porch inside her home stitching an embroidery. I watched other friends enjoying the performance as well, knowing that many of their loved ones were missing from their sides. Instead of being in the audience watching their children culturally flourish, many fathers, brothers and sons instead were languishing in Israeli jails, part of the 7,000 Palestinians arbitrarily arrested over the past two years.
The UNDP, sponsors of this fabulous performance, accepted a gift of embroidery at the end of the event. In making his closing remarks, the UNDP representative was clearly moved by what he had seen - a drop of hope in a sea of despair.
While sitting and watching the performance with my youngest daughter on my lap violently clapping after every dance, I thought to myself, if only our Israeli neighbors could see and feel what we were seeing and feeling. If only the parents of those Israeli soldiers -- not much older than the young Palestinian dancers on stage -- patrolling and occupying our cities could see the energy and determination that was on stage and in the audience. If only my Israeli neighbors could remove the artificial blinders placed on them by their leadership, they would quickly realize that we are a people whose spirit cannot be broken by military occupation. A people whose culture and traditions are deeper than the roots of the olive tress that the Israel bulldozers continue to uproot. If they could only see! If they could only feel!
Before we reached home last night it was announced by the Israeli military that for the next two days Ramallah would be placed under 24-hr military curfew, yet again. It was as if the entire city was being collectively punished for the act of displaying Palestinian culture. Nevertheless, when the curfew is lifted we will send our daughter Areen for her next weekly dance lesson, for we have no time to waste in ending this occupation, so disastrous for us all. Maybe the dance weapon will succeed where everything else so far has failed.
Sam Bahour is a Palestinian-American businessman living in the besieged Palestinian City of Al-Bireh in the West Bank. He is co-author of HOMELAND: Oral Histories of Palestine and Palestinians (1994). He can be reached at sbahour@palnet.com.
Palestinian Children in the Night
by SAM BAHOUR
November, 29. Under curfew.
It happened last night. Ramallah was pitch dark and the breeze was cool and brisk. For the first time in as long as I can remember, I was out during the night with my wife and two daughters, Areen, 8 and Nadine, 2. We were taking advantage of the lull in nightly curfews imposed by the Israeli military over the past year. We found ourselves in the midst of a crowd of over 300 cheering Palestinians. Between us and another group of a few dozen Palestinian youth were two United Nations Development Programme (UNDP) representatives. The two representatives were clearly American, in looks and accent. A few of the Palestinians standing behind the UNDP representatives slowly walked up behind them and one pulled from a bag what looked like a one meter wooden bat. Our hearts beating, and before we could clearly make out what was happening, the Palestinian boy holding this object unraveled a most beautiful and colorful Palestinian embroidery piece. The embroidery was attached to a wooden rod and the Palestinian teenager proudly held it up and presented it to the two UNDP representatives as a gift for their support. This was the final few minutes in what was a moving and fabulous one-hour debut of the Palestinian Folk Vista, by Bara'em El-Funoun, a new generation of the El-Funoun Palestinian Popular Dance Troupe.
Bara'em is Arabic for "buds". El-Funoun is Arabic for "the arts". Bara'em El-Funoun is the offshoot of the renowned El-Funoun Palestinian Popular Dance Troupe (http://www.el-funoun.org/), a music and dance ensemble, inspired by universal elements of folk art and their particular expression in Arab-Palestinian popular heritage and folklore. Bara'em El-Funoun is the embodiment of a new generation of dancers, a generation that is determined to safeguard and advance Palestinian culture and heritage through dance, music and song.
We are in the midst of the holy month of Ramadan. Ramadan in Ramallah has historically been marked by joyous evenings during the cool and breezy nights following the breaking of daylight fast. This year is an exception, as was last year. For the last two years the Israeli occupation has stripped all evidence of normal life from Palestinian streets. Whereas the city centers would once have been open for business late into the evening to cater to Ramadan shoppers and holiday-goers, today only a handful of businesses venture to open their doors after nightfall, fearing the volatile security situation and realizing that their patrons prefer to not risk the surprise Israeli raids and patrols within the city.
Last night was different. Over 300 Palestinians were invited to attend the first performance of El-Funoun's youth dance group. The mere invitation to such an event during these troubled times sparked a deep sense of defiance toward occupation in each of us. It was as if this youth dance group and those organizing them were calling for popular action to counter the Israeli military activities that have brought our cultural lives to a standstill. The action was clearly defined and well planned - a forceful demonstration by way of dance, music and song that Palestinian culture is alive and well, undamaged by Israeli tanks, armored personnel carriers and F-16's that have permanently scarred each of our streets, neighborhoods and families.
We entered the Ramallah Municipality Hall along with dozens of other families. Parents, children, elders and many friends gathered together in public for the first time in quite a while to celebrate a positive and cheerful event. For us it was a special event too. My wife Abeer was a dancer with the El-Funoun dance troupe back in the late 80's and my daughter Areen is currently training in dance at classes at the Popular Arts Center (PAC) with great hopes of one day being accepted into the Bara'em troupe and then graduating into the El-Funoun troupe.
This tribute to Palestinian culture came with a story, like most events in Palestine these days. Bara'em members rehearsed most of the Palestinian Folk Vista production during Israeli-imposed military curfews. On one occasion, they were all trying to reach the studio (at the PAC in Al-Bireh,
Bara'em's performance was stunning. The smiles of the dancers were refreshing. As Omar Barghouti, one of the proud choreographers, told me following the event: "Those children became real dancers with power, passion and a very convincing ability to convey the choreographed themes, to entertain and to impress. Our children are not reduced to mere victims, who solicit sympathy; they have a presence that demands solidarity and support. This has been El-Funoun's direction for decades now, and we can finally take pride in passing it on to our next generation of El- Funoun members, Bara'em."
In the middle of the performance my nephew, Yacoub, 14, took the stage to present a musical solo on the Qanun, a zither-like musical instrument with 26 triple courses of strings and one of the oldest oriental string instruments in Arabic music. As Yacoub fine-tuned his instrument, you could have heard a pin drop while the audience waited in anticipation. My two-year-old daughter seized the opportunity to yell out to her cousin from the middle of the hall, "Yacoub!" It was her way of expressing her excitement of the moment and she brought the entire audience to a warm laugh.
Dance after dance, these young boys and girls dazzled the audience with their agility and outstanding ability to synchronize with the traditional songs depicting the love of life that resides in all Palestinians, a love that appreciates the wonders of nature, respects land and refuses to forget those living in poverty and exile. Each girl dancer wore a traditional embroidered Arabic dress, full of color and full of life. The young boy dancers each wore a simple loose traditional garment reflecting those worn by Palestinian peasants and farmers for hundreds of years.
A scan of the audience brought sadness and hope. A friend, and one of the El-Funoun choreographers, Mrs. Lana Abu Hijleh, sat close to the stage and looked on with a bright smile. This performance was an accomplishment she had a right to be proud of. To see her smile brought hope, especially given that it was only a few weeks ago we paid our respects to her and her family after her mother was murdered by an Israeli solider in the Palestinian City of Nablus as she sat on the porch inside her home stitching an embroidery. I watched other friends enjoying the performance as well, knowing that many of their loved ones were missing from their sides. Instead of being in the audience watching their children culturally flourish, many fathers, brothers and sons instead were languishing in Israeli jails, part of the 7,000 Palestinians arbitrarily arrested over the past two years.
The UNDP, sponsors of this fabulous performance, accepted a gift of embroidery at the end of the event. In making his closing remarks, the UNDP representative was clearly moved by what he had seen - a drop of hope in a sea of despair.
While sitting and watching the performance with my youngest daughter on my lap violently clapping after every dance, I thought to myself, if only our Israeli neighbors could see and feel what we were seeing and feeling. If only the parents of those Israeli soldiers -- not much older than the young Palestinian dancers on stage -- patrolling and occupying our cities could see the energy and determination that was on stage and in the audience. If only my Israeli neighbors could remove the artificial blinders placed on them by their leadership, they would quickly realize that we are a people whose spirit cannot be broken by military occupation. A people whose culture and traditions are deeper than the roots of the olive tress that the Israel bulldozers continue to uproot. If they could only see! If they could only feel!
Before we reached home last night it was announced by the Israeli military that for the next two days Ramallah would be placed under 24-hr military curfew, yet again. It was as if the entire city was being collectively punished for the act of displaying Palestinian culture. Nevertheless, when the curfew is lifted we will send our daughter Areen for her next weekly dance lesson, for we have no time to waste in ending this occupation, so disastrous for us all. Maybe the dance weapon will succeed where everything else so far has failed.
Sam Bahour is a Palestinian-American businessman living in the besieged Palestinian City of Al-Bireh in the West Bank. He is co-author of HOMELAND: Oral Histories of Palestine and Palestinians (1994). He can be reached at sbahour@palnet.com.
Palestinian children are not terrorists
Palestinian children are not terrorists
By MARIANNE ALBINAGUEST COLUMNIST
Terrorist is the label all too frequently attached to Palestinian children. Today, many Palestinian youngsters feel misjudged by a world choosing to condemn them rather than know them.
These children are confronted with a hard struggle: to find ways to clear their name and reputation in the media. They want others to realize their only fault was to be born under an occupation that stripped away their childhood.
The life of Palestinian children is far from normal. Their daily trips to school take hours instead of minutes. According to The Washington Post, there are 659 checkpoints, roadblocks, trenches and earthen walls in the West Bank. In recent days, Israeli settlers have twice attacked the Christian Peacemaker Team as they accompanied Palestinian children to their school. Those who do reach their schools are disoriented and tired, ill prepared to absorb anything on the syllabus that day.
Palestinian children quickly realize their parents cannot protect them. They think it's normal to witness the death of friends, Israeli gunmen firing into certain schools and the razing of homes. This is disastrous for us and not without consequence for Israel.
Recently, I was unable to give a guarantee to a child that Israeli soldiers would not harm him. In such an uncertain environment, children become helpless, aggressive, afraid, extremely disobedient or compliant, depressed and fatigued. The Gaza Community Mental Health Program has noted children are plagued by serious psychological ills caused by the stresses of military occupation.
Many Palestinian organizations are aware of what youngsters are going through and work to promote their well-being. These groups help Palestinian children channel their anger and positively serve their nation.
Today, due to the efforts of organizations such as the Palestinian Youth Association for Leadership and Rights Activation, some of these children resist the occupation by utilizing their creativity, ambition and enthusiasm. They invest significant energy in the search for meaningful and non-violent ways of contributing to freedom. Some help the victims of the occupation; others prefer to write about the current situation and help spread awareness.
While Palestinian children have chosen different paths in resisting the occupation, they are all trying their best to revive the nation's dying hope of a dignified life. Yet, as the occupation strikes over and over again, children lose confidence that justice is possible.
Contrary to the belief of many, young Palestinians are able to do much more than fling stones in desperation at tanks. If we help, children realize the importance of never giving up, no matter how trying their circumstances. It is not easy. And the world lets them down by voicing principles that are not enforced in the occupied territories.
I urge you not to misjudge our young heroes who are trying to secure a normal life. The courage of the children of Birmingham, Ala., half a century ago is not unknown to our own children. What is missing is the needed media coverage and American empathy as day in and day out another Palestinian child is killed or injured.
We should protect the lives of Palestinian and Israeli children. At this writing, more than 550 Palestinian children and 100 Israeli children have been killed in the past four years. I am convinced by my short visit here that Americans are fair-minded and care for all children.
The U.S. government's backing for almost all of Israel Prime Minister Ariel Sharon's actions, however, comes at the expense of justice for Palestinians and safety for Israelis and for Palestinians. Children need the help of the American people rather than the one-sided rhetoric of your presidential and vice presidential candidates.
Marianne Albina, a Palestinian activist, is on a national speaking tour with Partners for Peace. She will speak at 7 p.m. Monday at the Langston Hughes Performing Arts Center. Call the World Affairs Council at 206-441-5910 for more information.
By MARIANNE ALBINAGUEST COLUMNIST
Terrorist is the label all too frequently attached to Palestinian children. Today, many Palestinian youngsters feel misjudged by a world choosing to condemn them rather than know them.
These children are confronted with a hard struggle: to find ways to clear their name and reputation in the media. They want others to realize their only fault was to be born under an occupation that stripped away their childhood.
The life of Palestinian children is far from normal. Their daily trips to school take hours instead of minutes. According to The Washington Post, there are 659 checkpoints, roadblocks, trenches and earthen walls in the West Bank. In recent days, Israeli settlers have twice attacked the Christian Peacemaker Team as they accompanied Palestinian children to their school. Those who do reach their schools are disoriented and tired, ill prepared to absorb anything on the syllabus that day.
Palestinian children quickly realize their parents cannot protect them. They think it's normal to witness the death of friends, Israeli gunmen firing into certain schools and the razing of homes. This is disastrous for us and not without consequence for Israel.
Recently, I was unable to give a guarantee to a child that Israeli soldiers would not harm him. In such an uncertain environment, children become helpless, aggressive, afraid, extremely disobedient or compliant, depressed and fatigued. The Gaza Community Mental Health Program has noted children are plagued by serious psychological ills caused by the stresses of military occupation.
Many Palestinian organizations are aware of what youngsters are going through and work to promote their well-being. These groups help Palestinian children channel their anger and positively serve their nation.
Today, due to the efforts of organizations such as the Palestinian Youth Association for Leadership and Rights Activation, some of these children resist the occupation by utilizing their creativity, ambition and enthusiasm. They invest significant energy in the search for meaningful and non-violent ways of contributing to freedom. Some help the victims of the occupation; others prefer to write about the current situation and help spread awareness.
While Palestinian children have chosen different paths in resisting the occupation, they are all trying their best to revive the nation's dying hope of a dignified life. Yet, as the occupation strikes over and over again, children lose confidence that justice is possible.
Contrary to the belief of many, young Palestinians are able to do much more than fling stones in desperation at tanks. If we help, children realize the importance of never giving up, no matter how trying their circumstances. It is not easy. And the world lets them down by voicing principles that are not enforced in the occupied territories.
I urge you not to misjudge our young heroes who are trying to secure a normal life. The courage of the children of Birmingham, Ala., half a century ago is not unknown to our own children. What is missing is the needed media coverage and American empathy as day in and day out another Palestinian child is killed or injured.
We should protect the lives of Palestinian and Israeli children. At this writing, more than 550 Palestinian children and 100 Israeli children have been killed in the past four years. I am convinced by my short visit here that Americans are fair-minded and care for all children.
The U.S. government's backing for almost all of Israel Prime Minister Ariel Sharon's actions, however, comes at the expense of justice for Palestinians and safety for Israelis and for Palestinians. Children need the help of the American people rather than the one-sided rhetoric of your presidential and vice presidential candidates.
Marianne Albina, a Palestinian activist, is on a national speaking tour with Partners for Peace. She will speak at 7 p.m. Monday at the Langston Hughes Performing Arts Center. Call the World Affairs Council at 206-441-5910 for more information.
Saturday, November 25, 2006
1 Boy Critically Wounded
HEBRON, November 25, 2006,A 15-year-old child was critically wounded and several citizens were arrested while two houses were blown up Saturday by Israeli Occupation Forces(IOF) in the West Bank(WB) cities of Hebron and Nablus, medical and security sources said.Medical sources, in Hebron, told that Jihad Farroukh was critically wounded after being hit with a rubber coated bullet in the head.Witnesses said that Israeli soldiers shot and wounded the boy in Sa'eer town, near Hebron city.Meanwhile, IOF arrested three citizens in the village of Beit Owla, north of Hebron and led them into an unknown location.In Nablus, IOF stormed local TV station in the Old city and arrested four employees, security sources said.The sources added that IOF also blew up the two houses of Ghassan Madmouj and Omar al-Saeh in the neighborhood of Alqisariyya.
Sammen for Palestinske barn
Sammen for Palestinske barn
PCAC (Palestinian Child Arts Center) er en ikke-statlig institusjon som ble dannet i 1994. Deres aktiviteter og program har som mål å utvikle de palestinske barnas intellektuelle og åndlige evner, og å understreke barnas positive rolle i oppbyggingen av det palestinske samfunnet.
De blodige og voldelige handelsene som har inntruffet de siste årene i Palestina har hatt en svært dårlig innflytelse på de palestinske barna, både på deres oppførsel og på deres liv. Massakren i 1994 i Hebron hvor en jødisk settler drepte 36 palestinere var et sjokk for barna i byen, og deres oppførsel forandret seg drastisk.
PCAC hjelper fremdeles disse barna med å komme tilbake til et normalt liv med psykisk velvære. PCAC jobber for at barn kan få utviklet sine evner ved å følge PCAC's parole "Towards A Creative Palestinian Child".
PCAC er ledet av spesialister på barns atferd,og støttes av andre spesialister på samme område.
PCAC MÅL
PCAC's aktiviteter har som mål å:
- Organisere utdanningsprogram for barn
- Tilby rehabiliterings kurs for profesjonelle som jobber med barn
- Tilby instruksjon og rådgivning til foskjellige program rettet mot barn, og lignende institusjoner med mål å lage en felles kultur.
- Utføre studier om barns rettigheter og utgi brosjyrer og artikler om barns problemer og forsvare deres rettigheter.
- Koordinere og samarbeide med forskjellige institusjoner som jobber med barn
- Skape et godt samarbeid med arabiske og internasjonale institusjoner og statlige og ikke statlige institusjoner som arbeider med barn og deres rettigheter
PCAC
PCAC har forskjellige aktiviteter, program og tjenester både for barn og voksne.
Forskjellige aktiviteter for barn:
- Amal Al-Ghad ( Morgendagens håp ) Årlig samling for barn mellom 5-12 år.
- Bibliotek
- Håndverk & kunstkurs
- Musikkurs
- Rekruttering av unge ledere for barn mellom 14-18 år.
- Dukketeater
- Dataspill
- Festivaler
- Utstillinger
Forskjellige aktiviteter, program og tjenester for voksne:
- Rekruttering av ledere
- Opplæringsprogrammer (seminarer, foredrag, arbeidsgrupper, konferanser og barnerelaterte utstillinger).
- Kvalifisere barnehagelærere
- Formingslære
- Opplæring av rådgivere for sommerleirene.
Planer og Prosjekter for Framtiden:
Aktivitetene til senteret har som mål å utvikle barnas evner gjennom å møte barnets behov og ønsker. Senteret har følgende planer og prosjekter:
- Bytte ut datamaskinene ( 8 maskiner ), og øke antall maskiner.
- Forstørre biblioteket i sentere med bøker og historier.
- Forbedre musikkavdelingen ved å tilføye flere mussikk instrumenter
- Koble senteret til internet
- Utvekslingsprogram med andre barn i andre land.
- Øke antall aktiviteter i senteret
Med Vennlig Hilsen PCAC / HEBRON
PCAC (Palestinian Child Arts Center) er en ikke-statlig institusjon som ble dannet i 1994. Deres aktiviteter og program har som mål å utvikle de palestinske barnas intellektuelle og åndlige evner, og å understreke barnas positive rolle i oppbyggingen av det palestinske samfunnet.
De blodige og voldelige handelsene som har inntruffet de siste årene i Palestina har hatt en svært dårlig innflytelse på de palestinske barna, både på deres oppførsel og på deres liv. Massakren i 1994 i Hebron hvor en jødisk settler drepte 36 palestinere var et sjokk for barna i byen, og deres oppførsel forandret seg drastisk.
PCAC hjelper fremdeles disse barna med å komme tilbake til et normalt liv med psykisk velvære. PCAC jobber for at barn kan få utviklet sine evner ved å følge PCAC's parole "Towards A Creative Palestinian Child".
PCAC er ledet av spesialister på barns atferd,og støttes av andre spesialister på samme område.
PCAC MÅL
PCAC's aktiviteter har som mål å:
- Organisere utdanningsprogram for barn
- Tilby rehabiliterings kurs for profesjonelle som jobber med barn
- Tilby instruksjon og rådgivning til foskjellige program rettet mot barn, og lignende institusjoner med mål å lage en felles kultur.
- Utføre studier om barns rettigheter og utgi brosjyrer og artikler om barns problemer og forsvare deres rettigheter.
- Koordinere og samarbeide med forskjellige institusjoner som jobber med barn
- Skape et godt samarbeid med arabiske og internasjonale institusjoner og statlige og ikke statlige institusjoner som arbeider med barn og deres rettigheter
PCAC
PCAC har forskjellige aktiviteter, program og tjenester både for barn og voksne.
Forskjellige aktiviteter for barn:
- Amal Al-Ghad ( Morgendagens håp ) Årlig samling for barn mellom 5-12 år.
- Bibliotek
- Håndverk & kunstkurs
- Musikkurs
- Rekruttering av unge ledere for barn mellom 14-18 år.
- Dukketeater
- Dataspill
- Festivaler
- Utstillinger
Forskjellige aktiviteter, program og tjenester for voksne:
- Rekruttering av ledere
- Opplæringsprogrammer (seminarer, foredrag, arbeidsgrupper, konferanser og barnerelaterte utstillinger).
- Kvalifisere barnehagelærere
- Formingslære
- Opplæring av rådgivere for sommerleirene.
Planer og Prosjekter for Framtiden:
Aktivitetene til senteret har som mål å utvikle barnas evner gjennom å møte barnets behov og ønsker. Senteret har følgende planer og prosjekter:
- Bytte ut datamaskinene ( 8 maskiner ), og øke antall maskiner.
- Forstørre biblioteket i sentere med bøker og historier.
- Forbedre musikkavdelingen ved å tilføye flere mussikk instrumenter
- Koble senteret til internet
- Utvekslingsprogram med andre barn i andre land.
- Øke antall aktiviteter i senteret
Med Vennlig Hilsen PCAC / HEBRON
http://www.pcac.net
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)