Adonis Diaries

Posts Tagged ‘palestine

Notes and titbits on FB and Twitter.

Posted on September 5, 2017

Toutes les espéces vivantes sur terre se transformeront pour accommoder la qualité de l’air qu’on a engendrer. Bientot, on pourrait survivre sur d’autres planétes qu’on croyait invivable.

Les mots “de chose” qui sous-entend l’eau, comme caractéristique essentiel , constituent la majeur partie de n’importe quel dictionnaire.

I was having a dream of activities and conversation and the movie froze, picture and sound. Kind my dream-mind wanted to freeze. Exactly as movies freeze on TV. I woke up and realized I was having my siesta/nap and the quota of sleep was over.

It is an experience that can be remembered. In this dream I was having a ride by a young man in the evening and we were driving on a road under repair and he was asking me a question and the dream froze. The car was like parked on a road side and the question in suspension. In vain, my lucid dream was trying to restart the conversation, but the movie was definitely frozen

There’s a little club of countries in the world that offer no national paid leave to new mothers. Care to guess who they are? The first 8 make up eight million in total population. They are Papua New Guinea, Suriname and the tiny island nations of Micronesia, Marshall Islands, Nauru, Niue, Palau and Tonga. Number nine is the United States of America, with 320 million people Onward, fellow humans.

Can We Let Capitalism Die and Move On? How many more calamities, financial crisis, occupations, pre-emptive wars, famine, climate change, indignities… can our existence sustain?

Le jour de l’armnistice, tous ceux prêt á etre fusillés, sont-ils épargnés? Pour ce jour de célébration? On célebre le jour de l’armistice, pas la fin de la guerre: les gens ne sont pas si idiots, quand même.

Les armistice successives en Syrie ont sont la preuve. Une journée sans violence d’armes est une victoire.

Le récitant du conte raconte ce que le hero eut aimé qu’on racontât.

Dans la société capitaliste, les gens de capital n’ont que des destins, et qui nuisent a tout le monde. Des destins d’illusion d’un progres qui doit être instantané, ou rien ne vaille.

Les actes, les emotions, les idées s’installent chez moi, y font briévement leurs nids, et puis me quittent successivement avec des délais. Je constate, mais ne peut affirmer que je les subit: Ils sont malins et ne s’imposent pas tous á la fois. Il serait illusoire de ma part d’assigner de lois á leurs apparitions ou disparitions

Tant qu’il reste une rue, un café, une maison, un cimetiére…que tu n’a pas exploré dans cette ville, tu ne doit pas dire que “tu ne l’a pas trouvé”

Le progres a des niveaux de myths idolatres. Les financial multinationals ont élevés l’illusion du “Progrés Idole” au plus haut degree. Ils savent tout instantanément, decident  instantanément, et transférent des milliars  instantanément.

Les hommes font l’histoire? Plutot, des histoires á n’en plus finir

Occupe toi de ta santé: le Bonheur tombe par hazard. Pas de grâce de la joie sans santé. C’est une autre histoire.

“Toutes les famille heureuses se ressemblent, Les familles malheureuses (sont différents), malheureuses á leur facon”

“Les enfants que je n’ai pas eus ne savent pas ce qu’ils me doivent” Cioran

If this is Death, I don’t think much of it. Neither life, for some balance to my rational pessimism.

Le plaisir, s’il sent agreable et sans soucis, est meilleur qu’un devoir sans grâce et sans concentration.

De ce que j’ai senti en ma vie, sentiments pauvres et sec, je crois que la vie est supportable. Poutant, my experimental mind exige une vie alternative: Une jeunesse fougeuse et bréve.

“If you say, I think the occupation of Palestine is fucked up on forty different levels, people are like, you’re the devil, we’re going to get your tenure taken away, we’re going to destroy you. You can say almost anything else. You could be like, ‘I eat humans,’ and they’ll be like bien, bien.” Junot Diaz

Any man-made system must necessarily be fraught with errors, faults and limitations on its intended usage.

Any man-made system (product, service, administrative, management, political, control…) is doomed to fail when designed to cater for complex tasks and objectives. It will end up tying up many teams targeted for training, maintenance, redesigning…

Author of The Color Purple Not invited over Israel comments?

Posted on December 27, 2016

Alice Walker disinvited from University of Michigan over ‘Israel comments’

Submitted by Ali Abunimah on Thu, 08/15/2013

World-renowned American author Alice Walker has been disinvited from giving a speech at the University of Michigan because a donor objects to her views on Israel, the agent negotiating the contract was told.

Walker, the Pulitzer Prize winning author of The Color Purpleposted on her blog an excerpt of a letter from the agent informing her that the invitation to keynote the 50th anniversary celebration of the Center for the Education of Women at the University of Michigan had been withdrawn.

The agent wrote:

I’m saddened to write this because I’m a proponent of free speech and have been brought up to allow everyone to have their say. But I also realize that there are other considerations that institutions are faced with.

This afternoon I was contacted by the University of Michigan instructing me to withdraw their invitation due to the removal of funding from the donors, because of their interpretation of Ms. Walker’s comments regarding Israel.

They are Not willing to fund this program and the university/Women’s center do not have the resources to finance this on their own.

They are deeply regretful but I wanted to let you know immediately either way. I hope you can appreciate the fact that I’m uncomfortable even having to send this email in the first place. Hopefully we can work together again down the road. Thanks for understanding. I wish things had turned out differently

110617-alice-walker.jpg

Alice Walker speaks in the occupied West Bank city of Ramallah.

(Lazar Simeonov / TEDxRamallah)

Calling the withdrawn invitation “Censorship by Purse String,” Walker wrote:

“Such behavior, as evidenced by the donors, teaches us our weakness, which should eventually (and soon) show us our strength: women must be in control of our own finances. Not just in the family, but in the schools, work force, and everywhere else. Until we control this part of our lives, our very choices, in any and every area, can be denied us.”

Walker is listed as one of the speakers represented by the American Program Bureau agency.

Alice Walker not “optimum choice”

Gloria D. Thomasdirector of the Center for the Education of Women, acknowledged that Walker had been disinvited, but said that the matter was a “misunderstanding.”

In an email to The Electronic Intifada, Thomas wrote:

The [Walker’s] blog was a result of an unfortunate misunderstanding. As director of the Center for the Education of Women (CEW), I decided to withdraw our invitation because I didn’t think Ms. Walker would be our optimum choice for our 50th anniversary.

Our 50th anniversary funding is assured. All donations, for this and other events, are accepted with no provisos or prohibitions regarding free speech.

In fact, in a conversation with one of Ms. Walker’s friends/representatives, I indicated that I would be willing to speak with other units around campus to serve as a possible co-sponsor for a lecture by Ms. Walker in the near future.

Asked if a speaker had been chosen to replace Walker, Thomas wrote, “No contract has been signed yet. This information will be made available on our website once the contract is confirmed.”

Walker: supporter of Palestinian rights

In recent years, Walker has become increasingly outspoken in her support of Palestinian rights, sometimes likening Israel’s abuses to the Jim Crow racist system she grew up with in the southern United States.

Walker has written about her visit to Gaza, and participated in the June 2011 solidarity flotilla that attempted to reach the territory besieged by Israel, which led to her being demonized by the Israeli army.

Her position on boycott has also been deliberately distorted by Israeli media.

Walker has campaigned for other artists, most recently Alicia Keys, to respect the Palestinian call for boycott, divestment and sanctions (BDS).

In her letter to Keys, Walker wrote:

I have written over the years that explain why a cultural boycott of Israel and Israeli institutions (not individuals) is the only option left to artists who cannot bear the unconscionable harm Israel inflicts every day on the people of Palestine, whose major “crime” is that they exist in their own land, land that Israel wants to control as its own.

Could Walker, one of the most celebrated figures in American letters, now be paying the price of refusing to be silent about Palestine?

Rafah, Gaza. Dead children kept in vegetable refrigerators

Posted on August 3, 2014

Note: Before this butchery, Rafah witnessed a prior butchery in 1956 as Israel participated in the invasion of the Suez canal. Israel army crossed Rafah and committed crimes against humanity: over 60 civilians were exterminated.

#GazaUnderAttack

As Gaza stranglehold tightens, full morgues have forced people to store dead bodies in refrigerators

Corpses of the dead stored in a vegetable refrigerator in Rafah (Twitter / @FoolowGaza)

Mohammed Omer's picture

Mohammed Omer posted this Saturday 2 August 2014

Abu Taha, a farmer in Rafah, opened the refrigerator he normally keeps his potatoes and carrots in.

In it were the corpses of children, young men and women lying on top of one another, soaked in blood.

Many were impossible to identify and only a few have been placed in white burial shrouds.

Such was the savagery of Israel’s bombardment in Rafah, such was the quantity of dead bodies, that there was simply no other option but to use vegetable refrigerators as makeshift morgues.

The closure of hospitals which came under bombardment led to a cascade of corpses. It started when medical staff were forced to abandon Rafah’s main hospital Abu Yousef al-Najjar which came under constant bombardment by artillery shelling from the east of the city.

They evacuated the injured to Kuwaiti Hospital, a facility totally ill-equipped to deal with major trauma injuries from the extended battlefield that the Gaza Strip has become.

Even so, several bodies were left lying on the roads, bleeding for hours without any ambulance crew arriving to rescue them.

Meanwhile, three ambulance crew members have been killed, their bodies were unidentifiable after they were hit by an Israeli tank shell directed at their ambulance.

Several of the cases close to the hospital gate were not reachable by rescue teams, says Abu Ahmed, an ambulance driver. 

Each time I drive through, tank shells are fired nearby,” he says while he is a couple of hundred meters from tens of victims bleeding on the road.

Most cases of those killed in Rafah are civilians slain by canon shells that wiped several homes in Hay al-Junina area.

Meanwhile, Israeli warplanes fired missiles on several homes in Rafah targeting homes of Abu Suliman, Zorb, Alshaer, and Abu Suliman. 

The death toll in Rafah in the past 24 hours is now 110 killed and hundreds injured.  Medics say there are more bodies they could not reach.

The corpses were taken into vegetables refrigerators in Rafah, which have their own electricity generators. 

Even burying the dead was full of hazard, as the cemeteries in the east of the city have also been under Israeli artillery shelling over the past 24 days.

“We had no option but to put the bodies of tens killed in the refrigerators,” Subhi Radwan, mayor of Rafah told MEE.

Al-Nujjar hospital has only enough beds for a few dozen patients, but evacuation has meant nowhere else to go for victims of the attack.

Radwan says, the war on Rafah is not over, and his staff members are unable to offer any facilities to people on the ground, that includes water and electricity lines which were destroyed by strikes.

“We appeal to the international organizations to step in and help us evacuate injured people lying in the east of Rafah,” he says.

Meanwhile, international groups have tried to help evacuate victims, but to no avail.

Survivors of the 24-hour bombardment said they had seen nothing like it in their lives. They were bombed from the air, sea and ground simultaneously.

“It is terrifying, the Israeli military has gone out of control, they bombed a building of families fleeing and killed 23 innocents,” says Abdelraouf Ayyad, a 33-year old whose home he fled in Hay al-Junina when bombing started 24 hours ago.

“No one is safe; no home, no hospital, no shelter” he says as he runs into Tal al-Sultan to seek shelter at his cousin’s house.

Twenty three (23) family members have been killed by Israeli F16 missile, mostly from families that fled bombing in east of the city to the West of Rafah.

Radwan says, there is no other hospital, and now even the Kuwaiti hospital is under canonfire—journalists and rescue teams were forced to leave the area under gunfire.

Ashraf Al Qudra of health ministry appeals to the international community to allow ambulances to evacuate injured people from roads of East of Rafah and Kuwaiti hospital.

“We need safe routes for ambulance to evacuate victims into other hospitals in Khan Younis.”

Israeli tanks could be seen in the east, overlooking Rafah, home of 180,000 inhabitants in the far south border with Egypt.

“There are tens of cases of people bleeding and the hospital is unable to deal with massive number of victims”

Rafah’s massacre occurred two hours into the 72-hour humanitarian ceasefire announced yesterday.

Hamas and Israel exchanged accusations of breaking the ceasefire. However, Israel insisted on carrying out a military ground operation on the eastern border, despite the truce.

Israel announced one missing soldier during its ground invasion, while Hamas’s al-Qassam Brigades say they lost communication with some of their members who were in combat with Israeli troops before the ceasefire started.

Qassam Brigades said in a statement that the Israeli soldier was probably killed during in ambush along with Qassam Brigades members.

The death toll across the Gaza strip is 1680 dead and 8500 injured since the war began 27 days ago – the majority are civilians according to the UN.

Meanwhile, 3 civilians and 50 Israeli soldiers have been killed during the ground attack in Gaza.

Palestinian factions and Israel were expected to travel to Cairo for talks with Egyptian on a long-lasting truce, but the presence of Israeli tanks around the Rafah Crossing point will make this unlikely to happen anytime soon.

– See more at: http://www.middleeasteye.net/news/gazans-forced-keep-dead-bodies-vegetable-refrigerators-1006544969#sthash.7DTcuIEy.dpuf

Why and how Israel decided to flatten Beirut?

Is it Out of Spite, Israel/US decided to bypass their totally impotent and greedy Lebanese leaders’ allies?

Hezbollah has plenty of serious grievances against these militia/mafia leaders who have totally sided with US/Israel for many decades, and many of them who supported the Zionist movement before the creation of this colonial implanted colony Israel in our midst.

In fact, the Maronite Phalange Party, created by the French colonial mandated power in 1936, and headed by Pierre Gemayel, totally supported the Zionist movement and the creation of Israel as a counter-power against the predominantly Muslim population in lebanon.

The successive pre-emptive wars of Israel on Lebanon were supported by these “agent” leaders since 1948.

1) Actually, those who were elected in the parliament are the ones who sold their properties and lands in Palestine to the Zionist movement in order to run for election

2) In the first 3 decades of the “Independence” of this pseudo-State of Lebanon, the Southern region and its people were totally ignored in the successive budgets for any worthy infrastructure, schools and hospital.

And that indignity included the Akkar region in the north and the Bekaa Valley people.

3) The Iranian Ayatollah Khomeini dispatched his cleric Moussa Sader to Lebanon in the late 1960 in order to rally the Chia sect around a leader that was Not a feudal and landlord conventional “leader” or za3eem.

Moussa Sader did a great job and his “Disinherited Movement” called Amal grabbed the attention of the conventional Lebanese leaders in power for all that period and this movement became a force to negotiate with.

Hezbollah General Secretary, Hassan Nasrallah, in a speech declared that “All we need is to launch a couple of missiles on the Ammonium plant in Haifa. The conflagration is as powerful as an atomic bomb”.

It turned out that Israel actually executed this idea and stored an amount of ammonium nitrate in the port of Beirut and let it be forgotten

Who still believes that this calamity is a simple matter of laziness of every responsible during the last 6 years?

Who is still unable to believe that Israel is Not able to prepare for a long-term catastrophe and hangar #12 was being prepared and targeted for a timely decision to flatten Beirut?

Who still believe this conflagration was Not triggered by an electromagnetic pulse bomb, planted in the hangar?

Can you Guess from which town the Third Palestinian Intifada (mass civil disobedience) Will Start? This article was posted in 2013.

Note: the first Intifada took place in 1936 and lasted 3 years against the British mandated power for denying municipality elections to the Palestinians, on the basis that the Jew were a minority (about 20%). Britain dispatched 100,000 soldiers to quell this Intifada and trained Jews to fight. Only the start of WWII stopped the intifada

South of the village of Nabi Saleh, you can see the red roofs of Halamish, an Israeli settlement on the hilltop across the valley.

This settlement was founded in 1977 by members of the messianic nationalist group Gush Emunim, and growing steadily on land that once belonged to residents of Nabi Saleh and another Palestinian village.

Next to Halamish is an Israeli military base, and in the valley between Nabi Saleh and the settlement, across the highway and up a dirt path, a small freshwater spring, which Palestinians had long called Ein al-Kos, bubbles out of a low stone cliff.

In the summer of 2008,the youth of Halamish began building the first of a series of low pools that collect its waters. Later they added a bench and an trees for shade.

The land surrounding the spring has for generations belonged to the family of Bashir Tamimi, now 57 of age,

(Years after, the settlers retroactively applied for a building permit, which Israeli authorities refused to issue, ruling that “the applicants did not prove their rights to the relevant land.” Recently, several of the structures have been removed.)

When Palestinians came to tend to their crops in the fields beside it, the settlers threatened them and threw stones at them.

It took the people of Nabi Saleh more than a year to get themselves organized.

In December 2009 they held their first march, protesting not just the loss of the spring water, but also the entire complex system of control — of permits, checkpoints, walls, prisons — through which Israel maintains its hold on the region.

Nabi Saleh quickly became the most spirited of the dozen or so West Bank villages that hold weekly demonstrations against the Israeli occupation. Since the demonstrations began, more than 100 people in the village have been jailed.

Ben Ehrenreich wrote:

“On the evening of Feb. 10, the living room of Bassem Tamimi’s house in the West Bank village of Nabi Saleh was filled with friends and relatives smoking and sipping coffee, waiting for Bassem to return from prison.

His oldest son, Waed, 16, was curled on the couch with his 6-year-old brother, Salam, playing video games on the iPhone that the prime minister of Turkey had given their sister, Ahed (this young girl that defied with fists the Israeli soldiers).

Ahed had been flown to Istanbul to receive an award after photos of her shaking her fist at an armed Israeli soldier and this resistance won her, at age 11, a brief but startling international celebrity.

Their 9 year-old brother Abu Yazan was in tears in the yard, wrestling with an Israeli activist friend of Bassem’s.

Nariman, the children’s mother, crouched in a side room, making the final preparations for her husband’s homecoming meal, laughing at the two photographers competing for shots from the narrow doorway as she spread onions onto oiled flat-breads. Slide Show

On the living-room wall was a “Free Bassem Tamimi” poster, left over from his last imprisonment for helping to organize the village’s weekly protests against the Israeli occupation, which he has done since 2009.

Bassem was gone for 13 months to prison that time, released for 5 months before he was arrested again in October.

A lot happened during this latest stint: another brief war in Gaza, a vote in the United Nations granting observer statehood to Palestine, the announcement of plans to build 3,400 homes for settlers, an election in Israel.

Protests were spreading around the West Bank.

That night, the call came at about 7:30. Twenty people squeezed into three small cars and headed to the village square. More neighbors and cousins arrived on foot.

(All of Nabi Saleh’s 550 residents are related by blood or marriage, and nearly all share the surname Tamimi.)

Then a dark Ford pulled slowly into the square, and everyone fell silent. 

Is This the town Where the Third Intifada Will Start?Peter van Agtmael/Magnum, for The New York Times. Protesters fleeing from tear gas launched by the Israel Defense Forces. In the background, the Israeli settlement of Halamish. More Photos »

Bassem, who is 45, stepped out of the car, straight-spined, his blue eyes glowing in the lamplight. He seemed a little thinner and grayer than the last time I saw him, in July.

He hugged and kissed his eldest son. Ahed was next, then one by one, in silence, Bassem embraced family and friends, Palestinian activists from Ramallah and Jerusalem, Israeli leftists from Tel Aviv.

When Bassem had greeted everyone, he walked to the cemetery and stopped in front of the still-unmarked grave of his brother-in-law Rushdie, who was shot by Israeli soldiers in November while Bassem was in prison.

He closed his eyes and said a quick prayer before moving on to the tomb of Mustafa Tamimi, who died after being hit in the face by a tear-gas canister in December 2011.

Back at home, Bassem looked dazed. Nariman broke down in his arms and rushed outside to hide her tears.

The village was still mourning Rushdie’s death, but the young men couldn’t keep up the solemnity for long. They started with little Hamoudi, the son of Bassem’s cousin, tossing him higher and higher in the air above the yard.

They set him down and took turns tossing one another up into the night sky, laughing and shouting as if they never had anything to grieve.

Nariman told me that by her count, as of February, clashes with the army have caused 432 injuries, more than half the injured were minors.

The momentum has been hard to maintain — the weeks go by, and nothing changes for the better — but still, despite the arrests, the injuries and the deaths, every Friday after the midday prayer, the villagers, joined at times by equal numbers of journalists and Israeli and foreign activists, try to march from the center of town to the spring, a distance of perhaps half a mile.

And every Friday, Israeli soldiers stop them with some combination of tear gas, rubber-coated bullets, water-cannon blasts of a noxious liquid known as “skunk” and occasionally live bullets.

Last summer, I spent three weeks in Nabi Saleh, staying in Bassem and Nariman’s home.

When I arrived in June, Bassem had just been released from prison.

In March 2011, Israeli soldiers raided the house to arrest him. Among lesser charges, he had been accused in a military court of “incitement,” organizing “unauthorized processions” and soliciting the village youth to throw stones.

(In 2010, 99.74 % of the Palestinians tried in military courts were convicted.)

The terms of Bassem’s release forbade him to take part in demonstrations, which are all effectively illegal under Israeli military law.

Thus, on the first Friday after I arrived, just after the midday call to prayer, he walked with me only as far as the square, where about 50 villagers had gathered in the shade of an old mulberry tree.

They were joined by a handful of Palestinian activists from Ramallah and East Jerusalem, mainly young women; perhaps a dozen college-age European and American activists; a half-dozen Israelis, also mainly women — young anarchists in black boots and jeans, variously pierced.

Together they headed down the road, clapping and chanting in Arabic and English. Bassem’s son Abu Yazan, licking a Popsicle, marched at the back of the crowd.

There were the journalists, scurrying up hillsides in search of better vantage points.

In the early days of the protests, the village teemed with reporters from across the globe, there to document the tiny village’s struggle against the occupation.

“Sometimes they come and sometimes they don’t,” Mohammad Tamimi, who is 24 and who coordinates the village’s social-media campaign, would tell me later.

Events in the Middle East — the revolution in Egypt and civil war in Syria — and the unchanging routine of the weekly marches have made it that much harder to hold the world’s attention.

That Friday there was just one Palestinian television crew and a few Israeli and European photographers, the regulars among them in steel helmets.

In the protests’ first year, to make sure that the demonstrations — and the fate of Palestinians living under Israeli occupation — didn’t remain hidden behind the walls and fences that surround the West Bank, Mohammad began posting news to a blog and later a Facebook page (now approaching 4,000 followers) under the name Tamimi Press.

Soon Tamimi Press morphed into a homegrown media teamBilal Tamimi shooting video and uploading protest highlights to his YouTube channel; Helme taking photographs; and Mohammad e-mailing news releases to 500-odd reporters and activists.

Manal, who is married to Bilal, supplements the effort with a steady outpouring of tweets (@screamingtamimi).

News of the protests moves swiftly around the globe, bouncing among blogs on the left and right.

Left-leaning papers like Britain’s Guardian and Israel’s Haaretz still cover major events in the village — deaths and funerals, Bassem’s arrests and releases — but a right-wing Israeli news site has for the last year begun to recycle the same headline week after week: “Arabs, Leftists Riot in Nabi Saleh.”

Meanwhile, a pilgrimage to Nabi Saleh has achieved a measure of cachet among young European activists, the way a stint with the Zapatistas did in Mexico in the 1990s.

For a time, Nariman regularly prepared a vegan feast for the exhausted outsiders who lingered after the protests. (Among the first things she asked me when I arrived was whether I was a vegan. Her face brightened when I said no.)

Whatever success they have had in the press, the people of Nabi Saleh are intensely conscious of everything they have not achieved.

The occupation persists. When I arrived in June, the demonstrators had not once made it to the spring. Usually they didn’t get much past the main road, where they would turn and find the soldiers waiting around the bend.

That week though, they decided to cut straight down the hillside toward the spring.

Bashir led the procession, waving a flag. As usual, Israeli Army jeeps were waiting below the spring. The four soldiers standing outside them looked confused — it seemed they hadn’t expected the protesters to make it so far.

The villagers marched past them to the spring, where they surprised three settlers eating lunch in the shade, still wet from a dip in one of the pools. One wore only soggy briefs and a rifle slung over his chest.

The kids raced past. The grown-ups filed in, chatting and smoking. More soldiers arrived in body armor, carrying rifles and grenade launchers.

Waed and Abu Yazan kicked a soccer ball until a boy spotted a bright orange carp in one of the pools and Abu Yazan and others tried to catch it with their bare hands, splashing until the water went cloudy and the carp disappeared.

Four settlers appeared on the ledge above the spring, young men in sunglasses and jeans, one of them carrying an automatic rifle. Beside me, a sturdy, bald officer from the Israel Defense Forces argued with an Israeli protester. “I let you come,” the officer insisted. “Now you have to go.”

The children piled onto the swing the settlers had built and swung furiously, singing. A young settler argued with the I.D.F. officer, insisting that he clear the protesters away.

“What difference does 10 minutes make?” the officer said.

Every 10 seconds makes a difference,” the settler answered.

But before their 10 minutes were up, one hour after they arrived, the villagers gathered the children and left as they had come, clapping and chanting, their defiance buoyed by joy. For the first time in two and a half years, they had made it to the spring.

They headed back along the highway, which meant they would have to pass the road leading to Halamish.

Ahed, her blond hair in a long braid, clutched a cousin at the front of the procession. As they approached the road, a border-police officer tossed a stun grenade — a device that makes a loud bang and a flash but theoretically, at least, causes no bodily harm — at Ahed’s feet, and then another, and another.

Within a few seconds, the marchers were racing up the hill back toward their village, tear-gas grenades streaking through the sky above their heads.

On warm summer evenings, life in Nabi Saleh could feel almost idyllic. Everyone knows everyone. Children run in laughing swarms from house to house.

One night, Bassem and Nariman sat outside sharing a water pipe as Nariman read a translated Dan Brown novel and little Salam pranced gleefully about, announcing, “I am Salam, and life is beautiful!”

Bassem is employed by the Palestinian Authority’s Interior Ministry in a department charged with approving entrance visas for Palestinians living abroad. In practice, he said, P.A. officials “have no authority” — the real decisions are made in Israel and passed to the P.A. for rubber-stamping.

Among other things, this meant that Bassem rarely had to report to his office in Ramallah, leaving his days free to care for his ailing mother — she died several weeks after I left the village last summer — and strategizing on the phone, meeting international visitors and talking to me over many cups of strong, unsweetened coffee. We would talk in the living room, over the hum of an Al Jazeera newscast.

A framed image of Jerusalem’s Al Aqsa Mosque hung above the television (more out of nationalist pride than piety: Bassem’s outlook was thoroughly secular).

Though many people in Nabi Saleh have been jailed, only Bassem was declared a “prisoner of conscience” by Amnesty International. Foreign diplomats attended his court hearings in 2011. Bassem’s charisma surely has something to do with the attention. A strange, radiant calm seemed to hover around him. He rarely smiled, and tended to drop weighty pronouncements (“Our destiny is to resist”) in ordinary speech, but I saw his reserve crumble whenever one of his children climbed into his lap.

When Israeli forces occupied the West Bank in 1967, Bassem was 10 weeks old. His mother hid with him in a cave until the fighting ended. He remembers playing in the abandoned British police outpost that is now the center of the I.D.F. base next to Halamish, and accompanying the older kids who took their sheep to pasture on the hilltop where the settlement now stands. His mother went to the spring for water every day. The settlers arrived when Bassem was 9.

Halamish is now fully established and cozier than most gated communities in the United States. Behind the razor wire and chain-link perimeter fence, past the gate and the armed guard, there are playgrounds, a covered pool, a community center and amphitheater, a clinic, a library, a school and several synagogues. The roads are well paved and lined with flowers, the yards lush with lemon trees. Halamish now functions as a commuter suburb; many of the residents work in white-collar jobs in Tel Aviv or Modi’in. The settlement’s population has grown to more than double that of Nabi Saleh.

I first met Shifra Blass, the spokeswoman for Halamish, in 2010. She talked about how empty the West Bank — she used the biblical name, Judea and Samaria — was when she and her husband emigrated from the U.S. in the early 1970s, intent on establishing a Jewish presence in a land they believed had been promised to them. Relations with the surrounding villages, she told me, had remained cordial, friendly even, until the first intifada. (When I asked people in Nabi Saleh about this, no one remembered it that way.) During the second intifada, three residents of the settlement, Blass said, were killed by gunfire on nearby roads. They weren’t near the village, but attitudes hardened.

When I visited Shifra again last month, she was not eager to talk to me about the conflict over the spring and the lands surrounding it. “We want to live our lives and not spend time on it,” Blass said. She dismissed the weekly demonstrations as the creation of “outside agitators who come here and stir the pot — internationalists, anarchists, whatever.” It was all a show, she said, theater for a gullible news media. “I’ll tell you something: it’s unpleasant.”

On Fridays, Shifra said, the wind sometimes carries the tear gas across the valley into the settlement. “We have some grown children who say they cannot come home from university for Shabbat because of the tear gas. They call and say, ‘Tell me how bad it is, because if it’s really bad, I’m not coming.’ ”

When the first intifada broke out in late 1987, Nabi Saleh was, as it is now, a flash point. The road that passes between the village and the settlement connects the central West Bank to Tel Aviv: a simple barricade could halt the flow of Palestinian laborers into Israel.

Bassem was one of the main Fatah youth activists for the region, organizing the strikes, boycotts and demonstrations that characterized that uprising. (Nabi Saleh is solidly loyal to Fatah, the secular nationalist party that rules the West Bank; Hamas, the militant Islamist movement that governs Gaza, has its supporters elsewhere in the West Bank but has never had a foothold in the village.)

Bassem would be jailed 7 times during the intifada and, he says, was never charged with a crime. Before his most recent arrest, I asked him how much time he had spent in prison. He added up the months: “Around four years.”

After one arrest in 1993, Bassem told me, an Israeli interrogator shook him with such force that he fell into a coma for eight days. He has a nickel-size scar on his temple from emergency brain surgery during that time. His sister died while he was in prison. She was struck by a soldier and fell down a flight of courthouse stairs, according to her son Mahmoud, who was with her to attend the trial of his brother. (The I.D.F. did not comment on this allegation.)

Bassem nonetheless speaks of those years, as many Palestinians his age do, with something like nostalgia. The first intifada broke out spontaneously — it started in Gaza with a car accident, when an Israeli tank transporter killed four Palestinian laborers. The uprising was, initially, an experience of solidarity on a national scale. Its primary weapons were the sort that transform weakness into strength: the stone, the barricade, the boycott, the strike.

The Israeli response to the revolt — in 1988, Defense Minister Yitzhak Rabin reportedly authorized soldiers to break the limbs of unarmed demonstrators — began tilting international public opinion toward the Palestinian cause for the first time in decades. By the uprising’s third year, however, power had shifted to the P.L.O. hierarchy. The first Bush Sr. administration pushed Israel to negotiate, leading eventually to the 1993 Oslo Accord, which created the Palestinian Authority as an interim body pending a “final status” agreement.

But little was resolved in Oslo.

A second intifada erupted in 2000, at first mostly following the model set by the earlier uprising. Palestinians blocked roads and threw stones. The I.D.F. took over a house in Nabi Saleh. Children tossed snakes, scorpions and what Bassem euphemistically called “wastewater” through the windows. The soldiers withdrew. Then came the heavy wave of suicide bombings, which Bassem termed “the big mistake.”

An overwhelming majority of Israeli casualties during the uprising occurred in about 100 suicide attacks, most against civilians. A bombing at one Tel Aviv disco in 2001 killed 21 teenagers. “Politically, we went backward,” Bassem said.

Much of the international good will gained over the previous decade was squandered. Taking up arms wasn’t, for Bassem, a moral error so much as a strategic one. He and everyone else I spoke with in the village insisted they had the right to armed resistance; they just don’t think it works. Bassem could reel off a list of Nabi Saleh’s accomplishments. Of some — Nabi Saleh had more advanced degrees than any village — he was simply proud. Others — one of the first military actions after Oslo, the first woman to participate in a suicide attack — involved more complicated emotions.

In 1993, Bassem told me, his cousin Said Tamimi killed a settler near Ramallah. Eight years later, another villager, Ahlam Tamimi escorted a bomber to a Sbarro pizzeria in Jerusalem. Fifteen people were killed, eight of them minors. Ahlam, who now lives in exile in Jordan, and Said, who is in prison in Israel, remain much-loved in Nabi Saleh.

Though everyone I spoke with in the village appeared keenly aware of the corrosive effects of violence — “This will kill the children,” Manal said, “to think about hatred and revenge” — they resented being asked to forswear bloodshed when it was so routinely visited upon them.  Manal told me, “lost his father, uncle, aunt, sister — they were all killed. How can you blame Said?

The losses of the second intifada were enormous. Nearly 5,000 Palestinians and more than 1,000 Israelis died. Israeli assassination campaigns and the I.D.F.’s siege of West Bank cities left the Palestinian leadership decimated and discouraged.

By the end of 2005, Yasir Arafat was dead (assassinated by Israeli poison), Israel had pulled its troops and settlers out of Gaza and the Palestinian Authority president, Mahmoud Abbas, had reached a truce with Prime Minister Ariel Sharon. The uprising sputtered out. The economy was ruined, Gaza and the West Bank were more isolated from each other than ever, and Palestinians were divided, defeated and exhausted.

But in 2003, while the intifada was still raging, Bassem and others from Nabi Saleh began attending demonstrations in Budrus, 20 minutes away. Budrus was in danger of being cut off from the rest of the West Bank by Israel’s planned separation barrier, the concrete and chain-link divide that snakes along the border and in many places juts deeply into Palestinian territory. Residents began demonstrating. Foreign and Israeli activists joined the protests. Fatah and Hamas loyalists marched side by side.

The Israeli Army responded aggressively: at times with tear gas, beatings and arrests; at times with live ammunition. Palestinians elsewhere were fighting with Kalashnikovs, but the people of Budrus decided, said Ayed Morrar, an old friend of Bassem’s who organized the movement there, that unarmed resistance “would stress the occupation more.”

The strategy appeared to work.

After 55 demonstrations, the Israeli government agreed to shift the route of the barrier to the so-called 1967 green line. The tactic spread to other villages: Biddu, Ni’lin, Al Ma’asara and in 2009, Nabi Saleh. Together they formed what is known as the “popular resistance,” a loosely coordinated effort that has maintained what has arguably been the only form of active and organized resistance to the Israeli presence in the West Bank since the end of the second intifada in 2005. Nabi Saleh, Bassem hoped, could model a form of resistance for the rest of the West Bank.

The goal was to demonstrate that it was still possible to struggle and to do so without taking up arms, so that when the spark came, if it came, resistance might spread as it had during the first intifada. Bassem said: “If there is a third intifada,we want to be the ones who started it.

Bassem saw three options:

1.  “To be silent is to accept the situation, and we don’t accept the situation.”

2. Fighting with guns and bombs could only bring catastrophe. Israel was vastly more powerful,

3.  “But by popular resistance, we can push Israel power aside.”

As small as the demonstrations were, they appeared to create considerable anxiety in Israel. Paul Hirschson, a spokesman for the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, told me that while the West Bank demonstrations do not pose an “existential threat” to Israel, they “certainly could be more problematic in the short term” than a conventional armed revolt.

Eytan Buchman, a spokesman for the I.D.F., took issue with the idea that the weekly protests were a form of nonviolent resistance.

In an e-mail Eytan described the protests as “violent and illegal rioting that take place around Judea and Samaria, and where large rocks, Molotov cocktails, improvised grenades and burning tires are used against security forces. Dubbing these simply demonstrations is an understatement — more than 200 security-force personnel have been injured in recent years at these riots.” (Molotov cocktails are sometimes thrown at protests at the checkpoints of Beitunia and Kalandia but never, Bassem said, in Nabi Saleh.)

Buchman said that the I.D.F. “employs an array of tactics as part of an overall strategy intended to curb these riots and the ensuing acts of violence. Every attempt is made to minimize physical friction and risk of casualties” among both the I.D.F. and the “rioters.”

One senior military commander, who would agree to be interviewed only on the condition that his name not be used, told me: “When the second intifada broke out, it was very difficult, but it was very easy to understand what we had to do. You have the enemy, he shoots at you, you have to kill him.” Facing down demonstrators armed with slings and stones or with nothing at all is less clear-cut. “As an Israeli citizen,I prefer stones. As a professional military officer, I prefer to meet tanks and troops.”

But armies, by their nature, have one default response to opposition: force. One soldier who served in Nabi Saleh testified to the Israeli veterans’ group Breaking the Silence about preparing for Friday protests. “It’s like some kind of game. Everyone wants to arm themselves with as much ammo as possible. . . . You have lots of stun grenades . . . so they’re thrown for the sake of throwing, at people who are not suspected of anything. And in the end, you tell your friend at the Friday-night dinner table: ‘Wow! I fired this much.’ ”

According to a leaked 2010 U.S. State Department memo, Maj. Gen. Avi Mizrahi of Israel “expressed frustration” with the West Bank protests to American diplomats, and “warned that the I.D.F. will start to be more assertive in how it deals with these demonstrations, even demonstrations that appear peaceful.” The memo concluded that “less-violent demonstrations are likely to stymie the I.D.F.,” citing the Israeli Defense Ministry policy chief Amos Gilad’s admission to U.S. officials, “We don’t do Gandhi very well.”

Sagi Tal, a former I.D.F. soldier, who was stationed near the villages of Bil’in and Ni’lin, which also held weekly demonstrations, explained to me that his unit sometimes conducted night raids to gather intelligence or make arrests and sometimes simply so “that they should feel that we are here and we are watching them.”

After dinner one Sunday, Nariman put on a DVD shot both by her and Bilal, the village videographer. (“From the beginning,” Bilal told me at the march on the previous Friday, filming calmly as tear-gas grenades landed all around us, “we decided that the media is the most important thing in the popular resistance.”)

We watched a clip shot in the house in which we sat: soldiers banged on the door late at night and rifled through the boys’ room as Salam and Abu Yazan cowered beneath the covers and Nariman yelled in Arabic: “What manliness this is! What a proud army you’re part of!” The soldiers confiscated a gas mask, two computers, Waed’s camera and two of his schoolbooks — geography and Palestinian history. (In an e-mail, an I.D.F. spokesman described such night raids as “pre-emptive measures, taken in order to assure the security and stability in the area.”)

We watched footage of Nariman being arrested with Bilal’s wife, Manal, early in 2010. Soldiers had fired tear gas into Manal’s house, Nariman explained. Manal ran in to fetch her children, and when she came out, a soldier ordered her back in. She refused, so they arrested her. Nariman tried to intervene, and they arrested her too. They spent 10 days in prisons where they were beaten repeatedly, strip-searched and held for two days without food before each was dumped at the side of a road. (The I.D.F.’s Buchman said, “No exceptional incidents were recorded during these arrests.” He added that no complaints were filed with military authorities.)

We watched a clip of crying children being passed from a gas-filled room out a second-story window, down a human ladder to the street. Early on, the villagers took all the children to one house during demonstrations, but when the soldiers began firing gas grenades into homes, the villagers decided it was safer to let them join the protests. We watched footage of a soldier dragging a 9-year-old boy in the street, of another soldier striking Manal’s 70-year-old mother. Finally, Nariman shook her head and turned off the disc player. “Glee” was on.

One Friday, shortly after the marchers had barricaded the road with boulders and burning tires in order to keep the army out of the village center, a white truck sped around the bend, a jet of liquid arcing from the water cannon mounted on its cab. Someone yelled, “Skunk!” and everyone bolted. Skunk water smells like many things, but mainly it smells like feces. Nariman wasn’t fast enough. A blast of skunk knocked her off her feet. Moments later, she was standing defiantly, letting the cannon soak her and waving a Palestinian flag at the truck’s grated windshield. An hour or so later, smelling of skunk and shampoo, she was serving tea to a dozen protesters.

Every Friday was a little different. Some demonstrations were short and others almost endless. Some were comic, others not at all. Some days the I.D.F. entered the village, and others they stuck to the hills. Sometimes they made arrests. The basic structure, though, varied little week to week: a few minutes of marching, tear gas fired, then hours of the village youth — the shebab — throwing stones while dodging tear-gas canisters and rubber-coated bullets until the sun set and everyone went home. Or failed to make it home.

It was strange, asymmetric combat: a few dozen masked shebab ranging in age from 8 to 38, armed with slings and stones, against 20 or more soldiers in armored vehicles and on foot, dressed in helmets and body armor, toting radios and automatic weapons. The shebab put a great deal of thought into tactics, trying to flank and surprise the soldiers. But even when their plans were perfectly executed, they could not do much more than irritate their enemies. The soldiers, though, would inevitably respond with more sophisticated weaponry, which would motivate the shebab to gather more stones Friday after Friday despite — and because of — the fact that nothing ever seemed to change, for the better at least.

I asked one of the boys why he threw stones, knowing how futile it was. “I want to help my country and my village, and I can’t. I can just throw stones.”

We see our stones as our message,” Bassem explained. The message they carried, he said, was “We don’t accept you.”

While Bassem spoke admiringly of Mahatma Gandhi, he didn’t worry over whether stone-throwing counted as violence. The question annoyed him: Israel uses far greater and more lethal force on a regular basis, he pointed out, without being asked to clarify its attitude toward violence. If the loincloth functioned as the sign of Gandhi’s resistance, of India’s nakedness in front of British colonial might, Bassem said, “Our sign is the stone.”

The weekly clashes with the I.D.F. were hence in part symbolic. The stones were not just flinty yellow rocks, but symbols of defiance, of a refusal to submit to occupation, regardless of the odds. The army’s weapons bore messages of their own: of economic and technological power, of international support. More than one resident of Nabi Saleh reminded me that the tear gas used there is made by a company based in Pennsylvania.

One afternoon, I visited the family of Mustafa Tamimi, who was 28 when he died in December 2011 after being shot at close range with a tear-gas canister from the back of an Israeli Army jeep. (An I.D.F. investigation concluded, according to Buchman, that when the soldier fired the canister “his field of vision was obscured.”) The walls were covered with framed photos: an action shot of Mustafa in profile, his face behind a red Spider-Man mask as he slung a stone at soldiers outside the frame.

In the weeks before her son’s death, Ekhlas Tamimi, his mother, told me that soldiers had twice come to the house looking for him. When she got a call that Friday asking her to bring Mustafa’s ID to the watchtower, she thought he’d been arrested, “like all the other times.” Beside me, Bahaa, a tall young man who was Mustafa’s best friend, scrolled through photos on a laptop, switching back and forth between a shot of Mustafa falling to the ground a few feet behind an I.D.F. jeep, and another, taken moments later, of his crushed and bloody face.

Ekhlas told me about a dream she’d had. Mustafa was standing on the roof, wearing his red mask. There were soldiers in the distance. She called to him: “Mustafa, come down! Everyone thinks you are dead — it’s better that they don’t see you.”

He turned to her, she said, and told her: “No. I’m standing here so that the Israeli soldiers will see me.”

“This is the worst time for us,” Bassem confided to me last summer. He meant not just that the villagers have less to show for their sacrifices each week, but that things felt grim outside the village too. Everyone I spoke with who was old enough to remember agreed that conditions for Palestinians are far worse now than they were before the first intifada.

The checkpoints, the raids, the permit system, add up to more daily humiliation than Palestinians have ever faced. The number of Israeli settlers living in the West Bank has more than tripled since the Oslo Accords. Assaults on Palestinians by settlers are so common that they rarely made the news. The resistance, though, remained limited to a few scattered villages like Nabi Saleh and a small urban youth movement.

I sat down one afternoon in Ramallah with Samir Shehadeh, a former literature professor from Nabi Saleh who was one of the intellectual architects of the first intifada and whom I met several times at Bassem’s house. I reminded him of the car accident that ignited the first uprising and asked what kind of spark it would take to mobilize Palestinians to fight again. “The situation this time is 1,000 times worse. There are thousands of possible sparks,” and still nothing has happened.

In the 1980s, youth organizers like Bassem focused on volunteer work: helping farmers in the fields, educating their children. They built trust and established the social networks that would later allow the resistance to coordinate its actions without waiting for orders from above. Those networks no longer exist. Instead there’s the Palestinian Authority. Immediately after the first Oslo Accord in 1993, the scholar Edward Said predicted that “the P.L.O. will . . . become Israel’s enforcer.”

Oslo gave birth to a phantom state, an extensive but largely impotent administrative apparatus, with Israel remaining in effective control of the Palestine Authority’s finances, its borders, its water resources — of every major and many minor aspects of Palestinian life. More gallingly to many, Oslo, in Said’s words, gave “official Palestinian consent to continued occupation,” creating a local elite whose privilege depends on the perpetuation of the status quo.

That Palestinian  elite lives comfortably within the so-called “Ramallah bubble”: the bright and relatively carefree world of cafes, NGO salaries and imported goods that characterize life in the West Bank’s provisional capital. During the day, the clothing shops and fast-food franchises are filled. New high-rises are going up everywhere. “I didn’t lose my sister and my cousin and part of my life,” Bassem said, “for the sons of the ministers” to drive expensive cars.

Worse than any corruption, though, was the apparent normalcy. Settlements are visible on the neighboring hilltops, but there are no checkpoints inside Ramallah. The I.D.F. only occasionally enters the city, and usually only at night. Few Palestinians still work inside Israel, and not many can scrape a living from the fields.

For the thousands of waiters, clerks, engineers, warehouse workers, mechanics and bureaucrats eeking a living in Ramallah who spend their days in the city and return to their villages every evening, Ramallah — which has a full-time population of less than 100,000 — holds out the possibility of forgetting the occupation and pursuing a career, saving up for a car, sending the children to college.

But the checkpoints, the settlements and the soldiers are waiting just outside Ramallah, and the illusion of normalcy made Nabi Saleh’s task more difficult.

If Palestinians believed they could live better by playing along, who would bother to fight? When Bassem was jailed in decades past, he said, prisoners were impatient to get out and resume their struggles. This time, he ran into old friends who couldn’t understand why he was still fighting instead of making money off the spoils of the occupation. “They said to me: ‘You’re smart — why are you doing this? Don’t you learn? Don’t you want to make money..’ ”

At times the Palestinian Authority acts as a more immediate obstacle to resistance. Shortly after the protests began in Nabi Saleh, Bassem was contacted by P.A. security officials. The demonstrations were O.K., he said they told him, as long as they didn’t cross into areas in which the P.A. has jurisdiction — as long, that is, as they did not force the P.A. to take a side, to either directly challenge the Israelis or repress their own people. (A spokesman for the Palestinian security forces, Gen. Adnan Damiri, denied this and said that the Palestinian Authority fully supports all peaceful demonstrations.)

In Hebron, P.A. forces have stopped protesters from marching into the Israeli-controlled sector of the city. “This isn’t collaboration,” an I.D.F. spokesman, who would only talk to me on the condition that he not be named, assured me.“Israel has a set of interests, the P.A. has a set of interests and those interests happen to overlap.”

Bassem saw no easy way to break the torpor and ignite a more widespread popular resistance. “The P.A  have the power, more than the Israelis, to stop us.” The Palestinian Authority employs 160,000 Palestinians, which means it controls the livelihoods of about a quarter of West Bank households. One night I asked Bassem and Bilal, who works for the Ministry of Public Health, how many people in Nabi Saleh depend on P.A. salaries. It took them a few minutes to add up the names. “Let’s say two-thirds of the village,” Bilal concluded.

Last summer, my final Friday in Nabi Saleh was supposed to be a short day. One of the shebab was getting engaged to a girl from a neighboring village, and everyone planned to attend the betrothal ceremony. The demonstration would end at 3.

Four armored cars waited at the bend in the road, the skunk truck idling behind them. Manal pointed to the civilian policemen accompanying the soldiers. “There is a new policy that they can arrest internationals,” she explained. Earlier that month, as part of the effort to combat what Israelis call the “internationalization” of the conflict, the defense forces issued an order authorizing Israeli immigration police to arrest foreigners in the West Bank.

About half the marchers headed down the hillside. Soldiers waiting below arrested four Israelis and detained Bashir, the owner of the land around the spring. Everyone cheered as Mohammad raced uphill, outrunning the soldiers. (Three months later they would catch up to him in a night raid on his father’s house. He was imprisoned until late December.)

I saw Nariman standing in the road with a Scottish woman. I walked over. Two soldiers grabbed the Scottish protester. Two more took me by the arms, pulled me to a jeep and shoved me in. I showed my press card to the driver. His expression didn’t change. Two frightened young women, both British, were already locked inside.

After almost an hour, the soldiers brought a Swede and an Italian who had been hiding in the convenience-store bathroom. More soldiers piled in. I showed one my press card and asked if he understood that I was a journalist. He nodded. Finally, the driver pulled onto the road. As we passed the gas station, the shebab ran after us.

“They were so beautiful a few minutes ago, right?” the soldier beside me said as the shebab’s stones clanged against the jeep. “They were so cute.”

They drove us to the old British police station in the I.D.F. base in Halamish. While I was sitting on a bench, an I.D.F. spokesman called my cellphone to inform me that no journalists with press cards had been detained in Nabi Saleh. I disagreed. (The next day, according to Agence France-Presse, the I.D.F. denied I had been arrested.) A half-hour later, an officer escorted me to the gate.

As I walked back to Nabi Saleh, the road was empty, but the air was still peppery with tear gas. I made it back in time for the engagement party and flew home the next day. The five activists detained with me were deported. Two nights after I left, soldiers raided Bassem’s house. The following week, they raided the village five days in a row.

This past October, the popular resistance movement began to shift tactics, trying to break the routine of weekly demonstrations. They blocked a settler road west of Ramallah, and the following week staged a protest inside an Israeli-owned supermarket in the settlement industrial zone of Shaar Binyamin. Bassem was arrested outside the market — soldiers grabbed at Nariman and dragged Bassem off when he stepped forward to put his arms around her.

Less than two weeks later, Waed was arrested at a Friday demonstration. Soldiers beat Waed “with their fists and their rifles.” When he appeared in court, Waed was still bruised. The judge threw out the charges. But while he was detained, he was in the same prison as his father and saw him briefly there. “When I said goodbye to him,” Waed told me with obvious pride, “he had tears in his eyes. I was stronger than him.”

On the day of Waed’s arrest, a camera caught Ahed shaking her fist, demanding that soldiers tell her where they were taking her brother. The Internet took over: video of the tiny, bare-armed blond girl facing down a soldier went viral. She and Nariman were invited to Istanbul, where, to their surprise, Nariman said, they were greeted at the airport by dozens of children wearing T-shirts printed with Ahed’s photo. They drove past billboards displaying Ahed’s image. Reporters followed them everywhere. Crowds gathered when they walked in the streets. They were taken to Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan in the southeastern city of Urfa, Nariman said, and flew back with him to Istanbul on his plane.

Not everyone reacted so enthusiastically. One right-wing blogger dubbed Ahed “Shirley Temper.” The Israeli news site Ynet took the images as evidence that “Palestinian protesters use children to needle I.D.F. soldiers in the hope of provoking a violent response.”

In mid-November, Israeli rockets began falling on Gaza. Protests spread throughout the West Bank. “We thought it was the start of the third intifada,” Manal told me. The demonstrations in Nabi Saleh stretched beyond their usual Friday-evening terminus. One Saturday in November, Nariman’s brother Rushdie — who worked as a policeman near Ramallah and was rarely home on Fridays — joined the shebab on the hill. He was standing beside Waed when he was hit by a rubber-coated bullet.

Then the soldiers began shooting live ammunition, but Rushdie was hurt and couldn’t run. As he lay on the ground, a soldier shot him in the back from a few meters away. Nariman ran to the hillside with her video camera and found her brother lying wounded. “I wanted to attack the soldier and die with Rushdie right there, but I knew I had to be stronger than that,” Nariman said. “Why is it required of me to be more humane than they are?” Rushdie, who was 31, died two days later. An I.D.F. investigation found that soldiers fired 80 shots of live ammunition and neglected to “control the fire.” The unit’s commander was reportedly relieved of his command.

When the fighting stopped in Gaza, the protests in the West Bank ceased. I went back to Nabi Saleh in January, three weeks before Bassem was expected home. The village seemed listless and depressed, as if everyone were convinced of the futility of continuing. On my first Friday back, the demonstration ended early: the shebab had a soccer match in another village. It rained the next week, and everyone went home after an hour. “We are still living the shock of Rushdie’s killing,” Mohammad told me.

Elsewhere in the West Bank, though, momentum was building. In late November, Netanyahu announced plans to build 3,400 settlement units in an area known as E1, effectively cutting off Jerusalem from the West Bank. Just before I arrived in January, popular-resistance activists tried something new, erecting a tent “village” called Bab al-Shams in E1, symbolically appropriating the methods of land confiscation employed by settlers. “The time has come now to change the rules of the game,” the organizers wrote in a news release, “for us to establish facts on the ground — our own land.”

The numbers were relatively small — about 250 people took part, including Nariman and a few others from Nabi Saleh — and, on direct orders from Netanyahu, soldiers evicted everyone two days later, but the movement was once again making headlines around the globe. Copycat encampments went up all over the West Bank — some in areas where the popular resistance had not previously been active.

The day after his release, Bassem told me that even sitting in prison he had felt “a sense of joy” when he learned about Bab al-Shams. The popular resistance was finally spreading beyond the village demonstrations. “We have to create a sense of renewal,” he said, “not only in Nabi Saleh but on a larger scale.” The village’s losses — and his own — he acknowledged, were daunting. “The price is now higher,but if we don’t continue, it would mean that the occupation has succeeded.” It would take constant creativity, he said, to hold onto the momentum. He didn’t know what it would look like yet, but just talking about it seemed to add inches to his height.

Within days, thousands of Palestinians would protest around the West Bank, first in solidarity with prisoners on hunger strikes to demand an end to the indefinite detention of Palestinians without trial, later in outrage at the death of a 30-year-old prisoner named Arafat Jaradat. Once again, the words “third intifada” were buzzing through the press. Avi Dichter, the head of Israeli domestic security during the second intifada and the current minister of Home Front Defense, cautioned in a radio interview that an “incorrect response by the security forces” might push the protests into full-out revolt.

When I saw Bassem in February, I asked him whether he was worried that the uprising might finally arrive at Nabi Saleh’s moment of greatest self-doubt, that it might catch the village drowsing. “It doesn’t matter who is resisting,” he said. “What’s important is that they are resisting.”

On the last Friday I was there, the wind was against the demonstrators. Nearly every grenade the soldiers fired, regardless of how far away it landed, blew a cloud of gas up the road right at them. A dozen or so villagers watched the clashes from the relative safety of the hillside. Bassem’s cousin Naji was sitting on a couch cushion. Mahmoud, Bassem’s nephew, poured coffee into clear plastic cups. Bright red poppies dotted the hill between the rocks. The way was clear, but no one tried to walk down to the spring.

When the demonstration seemed over, I trekked back to the village with a young Israeli in a black “Anarchy Is for Lovers” T-shirt. He told me about his childhood on a kibbutz bordering the Gaza Strip. His parents were “right-wing Zionists,” he said, “hard-core.” They didn’t talk to him anymore. A group of soldiers appeared behind us, and we ducked into Nariman’s yard as they tossed a few stun grenades over the wall.

Later that evening, at Naji’s house, I watched Bilal’s video of the same soldiers as they strolled down the drive, lobbing tear-gas grenades until they reached their jeeps. They piled in and closed the armored doors. One door opened a crack. A hand emerged. It tossed one last grenade toward the camera. Gas streamed out, the door closed and the jeep sped off down the road.

Ben Ehrenreich won a 2011 National Magazine Award in feature writing. His most recent novel is “Ether,” published by City Lights Books. Editor: Ilena SilvermanAdvertisem

When the Devil in the details?

When the occupation forces are comfortable in the situation?

Israelis diverge on details of a Palestinian State

Would Israeli support for a Palestinian state (60%) be dramatically lower when they are presented with specific details rather than being asked to support the basic idea?
Right Wing think-tank jumped at the occasion with a biased poll to confirms the argument that Israelis who support theory of two-state solution recoil from concrete details.
 in Jerusalem in The Guardian, Monday 20 October
 Jerusalem
The Jordan Valley
The Jordan Valley, which Israel considers to be its eastern border. Photograph: Ahmad Gharabli/AFP/Getty Images

poll has found that 75% of Israeli Jews oppose the creation of a Palestinian state within the pre-1967 borders if it means withdrawing Israeli troops from the Jordan Valley.

The survey, conducted by a right wing think tank headed by a political ally of the Israeli prime minister, Binyamin Netanyahu, makes for stark reading, contradicting previous polls showing up to 60% of Israelis in favour of a two-state solution.

The Palestinian president, Mahmoud Abbas, is making a concerted diplomatic push for a UN security council resolution seeking an end to the Israeli occupation of the Palestinian territories by November 2016.

Of the 60% of those polled who described themselves as right wing, opposition to a Palestinian state within the pre-1967 lines rose to almost 92%, while 72% of those who identified as left wing would support it.

That opposition rises further still if the issue of dividing Jerusalem is included, with 40% of left wingers opposing the division of Jerusalem.

The poll was commissioned by a think-tank run by a former policy advisor to Netanyahu and initially published in the free newspaper owned by the Las Vegas casino owner Sheldon Adelson, one of the Israeli prime minister’s biggest backers.

Left Wing commentators suggested the polling was likely to be an accurate reflection of Israeli public opinion.

“The poll published in Israel Hayom is obviously meant to serve Netanyahu’s agenda,” said Mairav Zonszeinwriting for the +972 website.

“And while it is dangerous to rely solely on a single poll to backup any claim, this specific poll – no matter how flawed or skewed – happens to be an accurate reflection of the Israeli government’s policies, much of its rhetoric, and the reality on the ground.”

Although historical polling has suggested solid Israeli support for a two-state solution, Zonszein argues that the latest poll more truly reflects both how Israelis vote for political parties – and those parties’ agendas – and how they talk about the peace process.

Even though many polls over the years have shown and still show that a majority of Jewish Israelis support a two-state solution based more or less along the 1967 border with land swaps, such sentiment is reflected less and less in the way Israelis vote and talk. This new poll seems to provide a much more honest assessment of the reality on the ground and the reality in the halls of government,” she said.

The latest poll reflects what appears to be an ever-diminishing appetite for a two-state solution on both sides. (Yes, right. And study done by a US think-tank?)

Two sets of polls earlier this year – one of Palestinians for the right-leaning US think tank Washington Institute for Near East Policy and a Pew Research poll in the spring – both identified growing pessimism that a peace deal could be done.

Note: But the details are known if you are interested, though we are under the belief that all the details are secrets because that’s what Israel wants you to believe. The two-State status is a preliminary condition for any sustainable and serious peace negotiation in the Middle-East

Monarchs, Emirs, dictators and colonial powers: Any other people wanting to ally with Israel?

Who are those backward leaders who volunteered to guard the existence for future Israel?

After the dictator Saadat of Egypt and the monarch Hussein of Jordan, here come forward the Emir of this a Gulf Emirate to sign a one-sided peace deal with Israel.

حرس الغد الإسرائيلي..

الكوفية والعقال

تتوالى أخبار استسلام الدول العربية،

لا سيما تلك التي لم تحارب لحماية فلسطين ومنع الإسرائيليين من احتلالها واستيطانها وتهويدها بالتدريج، وآخرها، حتى الساعة، دولة الإمارات العربية المتحدة.

فبين ما نُكب به العرب في هذا العصر أن آبار النفط والغاز التي تفجرت في شبه الجزيرة العربية وسواحلها قد استولدت دولاً من غاز وأخرى من نفط، لا يملك “شيوخها” ما يحمون به أرضهم،

لذلك “لزَّموها” لمن يستطيع استثمار ثروات أرضها وبحرها، مقابل أن يمنحهم لزوم الوجاهة والحضور الدولي والإستعلاء على أخوتهم الفقراء،

الذين كانوا حتى الأمس يتعلمون منهم كيف يعيش أثرياء المصادفة ويتمتعون بما وهبهم الله من نعمه، فأغناهم بعد فقر، وعززهم بعد فاقة وجعلهم ملوكاً وأمراء لهم دول وجيوش وحرس شرف وخدم وحشم، وعلاقات دولية مع “الكبار”، ومطارات فخمة وفسيحة وممتدة في قلب الصحراء لاستقبال ضيوفهم من الملوك والرؤساء وحملة الرسائل العاجلة المنبهة إلى المخاطر.

وها أن دولة الإمارات العربية المتحدة التي اصطنعها النفط قد بدأت تمارس سياستها الخاصة وقرارها الخاص، مستقوية بثروتها وقدرتها على توزيع الرشى على “دول القرار”،

وكذلك على إيفاد بعض المرتزقة التي اصطنعت منهم جيشاً بطيران حربي جبار ومدفعية ثقيلة وسفن حربية وزوارق مسلحة، وصواريخ تخترق الفضاءات البعيدة وصولاً إلى أهدافها-مصدر الخطر المحتمل: في اليمن، جنوبا بالأساس، وشمالاً لتأمين الحماية … توكيداً للإدعاء بأنها أرض الأجداد.

ويمكن للشيخ محمد بن زايد أن يدعي أنه بهذا الإعتراف إنما يضمن حق الفلسطينيين في تحرير بلادهم ومساعدتهم مباشرة، بالمال والسلاح عوضاً عن هدر الوقت عبثاً، بينما دولة العدو الإسرائيلي تزداد قوة وقدرة على رفض عروض السلام، حتى لو لامست الإستسلام.

في سابق العصر والأوان، وبعد إقامة دولة الإمارات من تجميع سبع مشيخات صحراوية كان بينها “دبي” التي جعلها شيخها محمد بن راشد مشروع “هونغ كونغ” جديدة، للتبادل تجارة ومعلومات وأسراراً عن دول قاصديها للعمل والإرتزاق.

في سابق العصر والأوان “رحب” العرب بعنوان مصر وسوريا والعراق بالدولة الوليدة، وأسهموا- بشكل أو بآخر- في مساعدة الشيخ زايد على التخلص من شقيقه “شخبوط” الذي كان تولى السلطة، وهو الجاهل بأصول الحكم وبضرورة العلاقات مع الغير لحماية الذات، والذي كان يحتفظ بعائدات النفط في مقعد يجلس عليه ليكون الأعلى بين الحاضرين،

فلما تعاظمت الثروة جعل مقعده كنبة يجلس عليها نهاراً ويمضي ليله فوقها وهو مطمئن إلى أن خيرات أرضه وبحره في أمان.

…ها قد جاء إلى الحكم من يفهم السياسة، ومن يعرف كيف يحمي نفسه وثروة أرضه وبحره، وذلك بطلب الأمان من “الأقوى” و”الاقدر” على التعامل مع أصحاب الثروات الخرافية وتوفير “الحماية” لهم من الأشقاء الطامعين كما من الأصدقاء المحتلين الذين قد يهددون العروش المذهبة بالخطر الشقيق، بوهم اصطناع الغد الأفضل.. كأنما ثمة غد أفضل مما نحن فيه؟

لقد ذهبت “البراءة” مع “زايد الخير”، وجاء الأبناء الذين ينصب اهتمامهم على شراء المستقبل، وتزيين الأرض وتحضيرها بالقصور والحدائق والجامعات (ولو كان طلابها من أبناء رجال الأعمال والموظفين في الدولة الأغنى من أهلها وأهل أهلها وجيرانها مجتمعين)..

لم يبق غير الكوفية والعقال، وقد خلع العرب الفقراء، في المشرق والمغرب، تراث الأجداد، وتركوه ليكون دليل الوجاهة والثروة وحسن الإدارة عند أهل النفط والغاز، الذين باتوا الآن حرس الغد الإسرائيلي.

Good progress in Boycott, Sanction and Divest Israel businesses in the West Bank

This Palestinian movement, along with all movements confronting apartheid and racism and colonial powers exploitation, has earned a victory in Germany judicial system

الوليد خالد يحيى (Al walid Khaled Ya7ya)

كاتب صحفي

انتصار جديد تحققه حركة مقاطعة “إسرائيل” وسحب الاستثمارات منها “BDS ولكن هذه المرّة في أروقة المحاكم الألمانيّة،

يُضاف إلى سلسلة من الانتصارات الماديّة والمعنويّة التي تحققها الحركة في الميادين الاقتصاديّة والثقافيّة والأكاديميّة حول العالم.

وأفضى قرار لمحكمة في العاصمة برلين يوم 3 آب/ أغسطس الجاري، إلى تبرئة النشطاء ماجد أبو سلامة، وروني باركان وستافيت سيناي، من تهمة “الاعتداء” التي كانت صلب موضوع دعوة رفعتها إحدى منظمات اللوبي الصهيوني في ألمانيا، إثر رفعهم شعاراتـ وصراخهم بهتافات،

خلال مشاركة عضو الكنيست “أليزا لافي” في ندوة حول حقوق المثلييين بجامعة هومبولت في حزيران/ يونيو 2019، حيث تعتبر مشاركتها في وعي المُقاطعة تجميلاً لصورة كيان عنصري استعماري احلالي.

كسب معركة ضد اللوبي الصهيوني

انتصار قانوني على دعوة اللوبي الصهيوني، عزز “حشره في الزاوية الضيّقة” وهو تعبير الناشط في حركة المقاطعة ماجد أبو سلامة، دلل به في حديث لـ” بوابة اللاجئين الفلسطينيين” على أهمية هذا الانتصار على جماعات الضغط الصهيونية، التي يشهد نشاطها المعادي لحركة المقاطعة في ألمانيا، تكاثفاً مدعوماً بميزانيات وخطط وإمكانيات، سخّرها كيان الاحتلال ضد الحركة، التي باتت تمثّل خلال السنوات الأخيرة، مصدر قلق كبير يعكس الصورة الحقيقية لنظام  ” الابارتايد” الإسرائيلي.

ولأنّ أليزا لافي أيضاً، هي مسؤولة اللجنة الأوروبيّة التي تعمل ضد حركة المُقاطعة في أوروبا والعالم، ويسخرّ لها كيان الاحتلال ميزانيّة تقدّر بملايين الدولارات، أكسب ذلك الانتصار القانوني على الدعوةِ الصهيونية، قيمة مُضافة، فالزاوية تضيق بالفعل، وفق الناشط سلامة الذي قال: إنّ “حركة المُقاطعة باتت تشكّل خطراً حقيقياً على صورة إسرائيل في العالم، واستطاعت خلال سنواتها الـ15 الأخيرة، تكبيد دولة الاحتلال خسائر بمليارات الدولارات، وتجريدها من الكثير من الاستثمارات، وإفقادها الكثير من التعاون الأكاديمي والثقافي والفنّي”.

“إسرائيل دولة مُلاحقة من كل الشعوب الحرة”

التضييقات على حركة المُقاطعة تُعزز صحوتها

ويعتبر الناشط ماجد أبو سلامة، أنّ جملة التضييقات التي تتعرّض لها حركة المقاطعة من قبل اللوبي الصهيوني الفاعل في أوروبا، تُعزز من صحوتها، وتدفع المزيد إلى الانضام إليها والتفاعل معها، وهو ما انعكس خلال مجريات المُحاكمة، التي شهدت تجمّعاً لمئات الناشطين من الفلسطينيين والعرب والمتضامنين الأجانب،

وبعضهم قَدِموا من عدّة دول أوروبيّة للوقوف إلى جانب النشطاء خلال مُحاكمتهم، مُضيفاً :” هذا يدلل على أنّ اسرائيل دولة مُلاحقة من الشعوب الحرة في كل أنحاء العالم، فالطلبة بالجامعات يصوتون ضد أي علاقة لجامعاتهم مع إسرائيل، و في محاكمتنا كان من اللوبي الصهيوني 7 أشخاص، بينما معنا وقف أكثر من 150 ناشطاً من أحزاب ومجموعات حقوقية ألمانيّة، والكثير من النشطاء المتضامنين الذين جاؤوا من دول اوروبية متعددة للوقوف معنا ضد المحاكمة”.

116797670_10222717606310671_8222354345163079134_o.jpg

دفعة أمل والمزيد من القوة والشجاعة والإصرار على مواصلة النضال في ظل التضييق الاستثنائي على نشاط حركة المُقاطعة، هو ما أعطاه هذا الإنجاز القانوني للحركة، فحجم الضغط على النشاط الداعم للحق الفلسطيني في ألمانيا، لا يقتصر فقط على  حكومة الاحتلال،

بل إنّ الحكومة الألمانيّة باتت تعمل كـ”دولة ثانوية” لحكومة الاحتلال وفق الناشط أبو سلامة، من خلال تضييقها على الجالية الفلسطينية والعربيّة وكل صوت حر يحاول أن يدافع عن حقوق الشعب الفلسطيني ويعرّي الاحتلال “هذا الانتصار القانوني ضيّق على اللوبي الصهيوني، وهو كان بمثابة دعوة لشعبنا الفلسطيني والجالية العربية هنا وكل حر،

أنّ يستغل الميزات الموجودة عنده، وأن يخصص وقتاً للقتال والنضال من أجل حقوق شعبنا المسلوبة” حسبما أضاف.

لسنا مُتهّمين إنّما نُلاحق مجرمي الحرب

ولعلّ ما يُلفت الانتباه في هذه المُحاكمة للنشطاء، ويبرز جانباً آخراً لأهميّة نتيجتها، يكمن أيضاً في تحويلهم لها إلى محكمة لمجرمي الحرب الصهاينة، وفضح جرائمهم وتعريتهم ومُلاحقتهم، لا سيّما أنّ أليزا لافي واحدة من مجرمي الحرب الصهاينة المسؤولين عن جريمة العدوان على قطاع غزّة عام 2014 والتي أفضت إلى مجازر ضد الإنسانيّة، بشغلها حينذاك منصب عضو “لجنة الدفاع” التي أقرّت العدوان.

“لم نتعامل مع المحكمة بصفتنا متهمين بل سلطنا الضوء على جرائم الاحتلال”

يقول أبو سلامة لـ”بوابة اللاجئين الفلسطينيين”: “نحن تعاملنا مع المحكمة ليس بصفتنا متهمين، نحن رفضنا أن نتحدث عن مسألة اعتراضنا أو دخولنا على ندوة اللوبي الصهيوني في ألمانيا، في محاولة منا لتسليط الضوء على جرائم هذه المجرمة، وتسليط الضوء على صورة اسرائيل المجرمة المنتهكة لحقوقنا بشكل مستمر السارقة لأراضينا،

ولنؤكد على أنّ هذه المقاومة و الثورة مستمرة” مُضيفاً: “نحن معنيون أنّ يشعر هؤلاء المجرمون بالخوف والتوتر، وأن يشعروا بإحساس أهلنا بكل فلسطين، هذا الإحساس الذي نحاول أن نعززه ونحيط به الصهاينة”.

نسعى لملاحقة مجرمي الحرب

ماباتت تشكلّه حركة المقاطعة “BDS” على الكيان الصهيوني، لا يظهره فقط جحم الضغوطات التي تمارسها حكومة الاحتلال على نشطاء الحركة في كل أصقاع الأرض، وخصوصاً في أوروبا حيث تتواطأ بعض الحكومات معها بشكل جلي، إنّما أيضاً بما حققته من إنجازات موجعة، وتحقيقها خروقات كبيرة في الوعي العالمي، إزاء طبيعة كيان الاحتلال العنصريّة الإجراميّة.

بهذا الصدد، يقول ماجد أبو سلامة لـ”بوابة اللاجئين الفلسطينيين” إنّ أهم ما يميّز حراك المُقاطعة، ليس فقط مُقاطعة “إسرائيل” ومُقاطعة بضائع المستوطنات فحسب، بل لكونه حراكاً شاملاً يسعى لتكريس حالة المُقاطعة الاقتصاديّة عبر الحضّ على سحب الاستثمارات من كيان الاحتلال، وفرض عقوبات عليه، وإحداث أوسع نطاق من المُقاطعة الثقافية والفكرية والأكاديمية، فضلاً عن مُلاحقة مُجرمي الحرب وفضحهم.

وتنطلق فكرة النضال في صفوف الحركة، من أنّ فلسطين عنوان للحق والعدالة، وبالتالي :”نحن ننطلق من هذه الفكرة بصراعنا ضد كل من ينتهك العدالة وحقوق الإنسان وأي فعل إجرامي في دولة مثل دولة الابرتايد الإسرائيلي التي تتعامل بنظام عرقي عنصري” يقول أبو سلامة.

 ويشير إلى عدّة انتصارات حققتها الحركة من ضمن الكثير ومنها :” انتصار بجامعة ساوس في بريطانيا، وجامعة مانشستر التي سحبت كل استثماراتها من إسرائيل”.

ffffffffffffffffffffffffffff.JPG

الكثير من الانجازات التي حققتها حركة المُقاطعة، جعلتها بمثابة “أكبر خطر استراتيجي على اسرائيل” وفق الناشط أبو سلامة، “وصارت خزّاناً للأمل والمقاومة، وأهم تفرّعات الثورة الفلسطينية في الداخل والخارج” حسبما أضاف.

BDS” نشاط فاعليته بوعيه ولا مركزيته

لا يتسّم نشاط حركة مُقاطعة ” إسرائيل” وسحب الاستثمارات منها وفرض عقوبات عليها “BDS” بالعشوائيّة، رغم اللامركزيّة في عملها، الذي يبدو أنّه أحد عوامل قوّتها وانتشارها، ويوفّر لمجموعاتها ونُشطائها، الحركيّة الميدانيّة الحرّة والمؤثّرة في أيّ مكان وكلّ زمان، يتقرر فيه القيام بنشاط ما ضد المصالح الصهيونية.

يوضح ماجد أبو سلامة لـ”بوابة اللاجئين الفلسطينيين” أسلوب عمل الحركة، لافتاً إلى أنّه يعتمد على الوعي والفهم والدراية لأهداف الحركة ومنطلقاتها التي يعرضها بيان الحركة المُقرّ سنة 2005، ويقول:” نحن شبكة من الناس الذين يعملون بشكل لا مركزي، ولنا إطار فعلي إداري يتتبّع سير الأنشطة” لكنّه يشير إلى أنّ الانضمام إلى المجموعة لا يحتاج إلى تقديم طلب أو الخضوع إلى هيكلية تنظيميّة، بل يكفي لأي إنسان حر أو مجموعة أو عائلة، أن تشكّل نفسها ضمن أفكار ووعي الحركة، وتبدأ بنشاطها في مكانها تجاه أي شركة أو مؤسسة تتعامل مع الاحتلال.

” حركة المقاطعة باتت تنتمي الى أسرة ضخمة في العالم”

ويضيف أبو سلامة، أنّ عدم مركزيّة الحركة، لا يعني أنّها حركة غير منظّمة، ويوضّح في هذا الصدد قائلاً:” إنّ في الحركة أجنحة تجتمع بشكل شهري، وكل جناح أو مجموعة، يضم عشرات الشبّان والفتياة وكبار السن من الناشطين اجتماعيّاً وسياسياً وحقوقيّاً حول العالم، ولدينا مئات المجموعات على مستوى أوروبا”.

ويلفت الناشط المقيم في ألمانيا، إلى أنّ حركة المقاطعة باتت تنتمي الى أسرة ضخمة في العالم، وصار لها شرعية من أحزاب ونقابات واتحادات في دول عديدة، مشيراً إلى تبني اتحاد العمّال في النرويج لوثيقة الحركة، والذي ممكن أن يكون ذلك خطّاً تسير عليه العديد من المؤسسات والمجموعات أن تتبنى الوثيقة وتعمل على أساسها.

حملاتٌ سنويّة تخوضها حركة المُقاطعة بشكل دوري، وتصب بشكل أساسي ضد الشركات التي تتعامل عسكريّاً مع كيان الاحتلال الصهيوني في مجال الأسلحة أو طائرات الاستطلاع وسواها من تقنيات تستخدم لأغراض حربيّة، إضافة إلى الشركات التي تتعاون مع الاحتلال في سرقة الأراضي والموارد الطبيعية الفلسطينية، أو التي تسعى لتجميل صورة الاحتلال فنيّاً وثقافيّاً.

BDS أبطلت بيع أكثر من 10 آلاف تذكرة لمهرجان يوروفيجن في تل أبيب”

ويشير الناشط أبو سلامة، إلى نشاط الحركة ضد تنظيم الاحتلال لمسابقة ” يورو فيجن” الفنيّة كأحد الأمثلة، وتمكّنت حينها من إبطال بيع أكثر من 10 آلاف تذكرة لحضور المهرجان الغنائي الأوروبي الشهير الذي أقيمت فعالياته في تل أبيب في أيّار/ مايو 2019.

ewgg.JPG

وينوّه كذلك، إلى حالة الوعي التي شكلّتها حركة المُقاطعة، من” خلال الناس الواعية بأهمية السلاح الفلسطيني الذي انطلق من فلسطين و تبناه كل حر في كل انحاء العالم” وفق أبو سلامة، لافتاً إلى أنّ ما تعمل وفقه الحركة من وعي كبير واستناد إلى معلومات ومعطيات وابحاث وتعميم الدراية بعملها وأهميّته لدى نشطائها، يشكّل لكيان الاحتلال اشكاليّة كبيرة.

ويختم حديثه مع موقعنا :” نحن بعلمنا نحاول أن نكون واضحين، وأن يكون هناك بحث وكمية معلومات ضخمة تمكّن من يناضل معنا من امتلاك وعي كافٍ، فحركة المقاطعة نضال واعي وهذا ما يخيف دولة الأبارتايد،

وعي يشترك به كل الأحرار، سواء الفلسطينيين الذين يحركهم انتماؤهم إلى فلسطين، أو الدوليين الذين يتحرّكون بايمانهم للفكرة ومركزيّة فلسطين في صراعنا الأممي ضد الاستعمار والإمبريالية والصراع من أجل إسترجاع الحق”.

When is the next holocaust?

As if these kinds genocide didn’t take place several times since WW2

The Horrors in this century: atomic bombs, chemical weapons used in Korea, China, Viet Nam, Iraq.

Illegal cluster bombs and missiles, depleted Uranium, phosphorous bombs, biological weapons…

Mass transfer of people, in Myanmar, the Palestinians, Iraq, Syria, former Yugoslavia, Yemen, Afghanistan, Somalia, Congo, Rwanda, Tibet… And in China from 1950 to 1980 and still being applied occasionally to the millions of Chinese

Shameful refugee camps strewn everywhere, and refugees converging from everywhere for food, water and makeshift shelter… Converging from remote countries in desert lands, jungles, seas… Crossing unwelcomed closed borders…

Sea refugees, drowning in seas, refused access to ports…

Note: Re-edit of “Otherwise, the next holocaust is imminent.  April 9, 2010

Otherwise, the next holocaust is imminent; (Apr. 9, 2010)

A month ago, I saw an old Japanese movie “The seven samurais”.

You have this village of rice growers experiencing yearly raids by a gang of 40 robbers as the crop is harvested and stored.

The village leaders decided this year to hire a few samurais to defend the village on the expected date of the raid. The leader suggested hiring 4 samurais, to be fed expensive rice though he knew perfectly well that the village needs at least seven samurais: the leader wanted to lure the village into accepting this proposition to circumvent their miserly attitude.

The first hired samurai was to select the other six samurais but he found only five willing to die for just food and lodging, just to defend “despicable” land growers.

The village idiot let the secret to the samurais that the village has hidden plenty of food and expensive condiment and they are just acting poor and starving.

The samurais trained and disciplined the villagers to take arms and defend the village; the samurais were the squad leaders at the major entrances of the village.

As the samurais arrived to the village all young girls were rounded up and hidden out of sight. Males believed that girls will instantly fall in love with samurais and then flee the village at the first occasion.

The main excuse of the village males was that customs of class distinctions forbade land growers into marrying with noble men.

Finally, the samurais successfully defended the village and 5 of them died in that endeavor.

The next day, the villagers were back growing rice and harvesting fields as a routine way of life.  The leader of the surviving samurai said to the young samurai in training: “We lost again. Peasants won.”

Elite classes claim their privileges as emanating from a God who divided mankind into two major groups: the governing and the slave classes.

In aristocratic Europe of the last century elite classes resented many religious sects, especially those living separated from the society or in ghettos.

(It is true today and for good reasons: they behave as cults, or the “preferred elite” to their God)

the Jews proclaimed to be the select race in face of the European elite classes who considered themselves the select class.

Pogroms after pogroms and the Jews refused to learn and relent on their myths on the ground that it was this myth that kept them united over the years.

Then pogrom was elevated to holocaust:  Now it was a whole nation claiming to be the select and purest race.

Nazi propaganda convinced most Germans that they are the purest race of all and must dominate.

There is no doubt in my mind that most Germans implicitly knew of the holocaust of Jews and other lower “races” and that genocide was at work: they opted to play it dumb as long as they were winning battles after battles.

I also believe that Nazi Germany didn’t care for the Jews in the “Arabic world”: they didn’t exhibit any threat to the purity of their race; it was the Jews in Europe, citizens in European States, which were to be exterminated.

Either the myth or the de facto power was to win in this race among select races!

The Jews still refused to learn and relent after this first terrible holocaust.

After the war, the US and European States decided that the best way to stop the resumption of pogroms in their elitist culture was to ship the Jews to Palestine and create a State for them.

The European elite classes knew that pogroms will recur since they staunchly clanged to the ideology of being the crème of the crème.  Europe aristocrats and elite classes sent the Jews packing to Palestine with plenty of financing, arms. and political support in the UN.

For over 60 years, Israel has been emulating the western mentality of being “the select people much better of the neighboring masses.”

The Palestinians, consistently labeled “Arabs” by the Zionist propaganda, have been humiliated as fit only for labor work.

Millions of Palestinians have been massacred and their descendants want revenge.

Millions of Palestinians have been chased out of their villages and towns to live in ghettos of camps and they want revenge and that the UN applies the right of return voted on in 1948.

Ironically, Israel is still pursuing “transfer” policies with the tacit agreement of the US and many European States.

After 60 years of establishing this implanted colonial State of Israel, now the “orthodox” Jews want Israel to be of pure Jews.

Mosques and churches have to be demolished and the Pharisee laws applied over the land.

The Western States are tired of their monster Frankenstein creation.

The Moslem/Arab World is running out of patience.

Secular Jews in Israel have got to get organized and united and win the next election!

Otherwise, the next holocaust is imminent.


adonis49

adonis49

adonis49

March 2021
M T W T F S S
1234567
891011121314
15161718192021
22232425262728
293031  

Blog Stats

  • 1,462,481 hits

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.adonisbouh@gmail.com

Join 803 other followers

%d bloggers like this: