Right to Resist: Boycott of Israeli settlement products

“Palestinian Takes a Road Less Traveled.” Palestinian PM Salam Fayyad promotes boycott of Israeli settlement products. (NY Times article here).

I had a reminder of non-violent resistance in Palestine today. A nationwide boycott of goods produced in Israeli settlements.

Salam Fayyad, the Prime Minister of the PA West Bank government, announced the boycott in late May. Palestinian shops and businesses have been asked to rid themselves of any products made in Israeli settlements. These settlements are Israeli towns and cities that have been built within occupied West Bank territory since 1967. Under international law, building on territory forcefully occupied in wartime is illegal, yet Israeli policy has allowed these settlements to develop into a huge network of over 450,000 people in over 200 towns/cities/outposts that dominate 40% of West Bank territory.

As most people are aware, the settlement issue is perhaps the single most contentious problem between the Obama Administration and the Israeli government. This issue is complicated and deserves far more explanation of Israeli domestic politics than I can do in this post. Suffice it to say, the settlements are the cause of immense suffering for the Palestinian population and are perhaps the number one catalyst for continued conflict.

This is not the first Palestinian boycott. Fayyad can be credited with bringing this settlement boycott to international attention, but not inspiring a new idea. After speaking with friends here, I learned that there have been many boycotts of Israeli products, in varying degrees. I also learned that many people here boycott all Israeli products , not only those produced in the settlements. The other day I went to the supermarket and brought back some snacks for my colleagues in the office. I bought a chocolate bar with a familiar wrapper, not thinking about where it was made. After living inside Israel last year, I am familiar with Israeli products and so thought nothing of it. However, when I offered the chocolate to the office director, she kindly refused, explaining that they are boycotting Israeli goods. Awkward for me, but a great reminder to remember where I am – on the other side of the Green Line.

Demonstration in support of the boycott
My ill-advised purchase :)

Though U.S. policy usually asks Palestinians to cooperate in the peace process, promote economic partnerships, and crack down on militant groups, it forgets that Palestinians also have the right to resist this occupation. Working for peace does not take away the need to resist the humiliations that accompany life here. I would like more Americans to realize all the ways in which Palestinians resist every day through their normal lives, without violence. I hope that this boycott will show the world a larger, more organized and poignant demonstration of this resistance.

Interview about Hebron Old City

Please find below an interview with my friend Zleikha about the situation in Hebron. You can skip the first minute if you wish, to where she begins speaking.

Protesting the Closure of Shehada Street

Yesterday in Hebron I went to a demonstration in Hebron's Old City. The demonstration is held every Saturday in protest of the closures of streets and shops. Certain streets in the Old City, including the main street (called Shehada Street - Street of Martyrs) are closed to Palestinian use. They are only allowed to be used by settlers. These policies have devastated the economy of the whole center of Hebron.
Below are pictures of the protest.
Settlers watching the protest.
In front of the gate, speaking with some Israeli soldiers.
Settlers threw water down on the Palestinian market street during the protest.
Protesters.
Graffiti in the Old City.

Hebron visit

I visited my friend Zleikha in al-Khalil (Hebron) for the weekend. For the last couple of days I've been considering how easy it is to pass judgments on people and places, particularly before knowing them well enough. Any society, even any person may be full of contradictions.

Palestine is a complex place. Sometimes I want to place this society into a particular box. The other day, I was talking to a friend about the lack of alone time here. Since moving to Ramallah last week, I think the only time that I've spent alone has been taking a shower. It is the stark opposite of life in NYC, where I spent so much time alone studying, shopping, walking, riding the subway... it is an extreme transition. But after coming to Hebron today and seeing Zleikha, I am reminded that it is not every person here in Palestine who is surrounded by people. Zleikha and her mother have a quiet house, and both spend a lot of time alone. Likewise, there are people in NYC who I'm sure spend all their time with people. One can never assume that contradictions don't exist.

Hebron hasn't changed much from what I see. The Jewish Israeli settlements are still towering above the Old City, and there are some new wire mesh covers over the souq shielding more garbage from above. (See picture below) If this is the first time you're familiar with this - the settlers often throw garbage or stones down at the Palestinians in the market, so the people have rigged these wires up for protection. Zleikha's house is just as beautiful as ever, especially her balcony garden fertilized with her kitchen compost.

Zleikha is still busy with her work, translating, organizing events, and running her kindergarten. Tomorrow I plan to go with her to a protest in the Old City. Palestinians here gather each Saturday to protest the closure of streets in the area, which has shut down much of the economy here. Zleikha and I chatted this afternoon about her recent 3omra to Mecca (a mini-pilgrimage) in Saudi Arabia. She said she came back to Hebron and felt like a stranger, concerned about the lack of true religiosity among people here and particularly the increasing attention-grabbing styles of women's clothing. As always, she and I have differing perspectives on some issues, but we have lively discussions and I always learn so much from talking with her. She also ironically commented that though the street at the front of her house (Shehada St - Street of Martyrs) has been closed to Palestinians for a few years now and it is a major issue of protest for the people, she has to admit that it is much quieter and more peaceful for sleeping at night. :) This comment made me smile. Finding a bit of peace in the midst of Occupation is certainly to be cherished.

When the Abnormal Becomes Normal

Over nargila last night, I sat with some new friends here in Ramallah. We began talking about checkpoints and the Occupation, and some of the ridiculous situations that happen. My friend Darin told the story that happened to us last weekend when we traveled from Ramallah to Hebron to conduct the impact surveys. Darin holds what people here call a “green card,” which is a Palestinian ID card held in a small green folder. The green cards here are West Bank ID, meaning Darin is not allowed to enter Jerusalem (only 6 miles away) without a difficult to obtain permit. Palestinians who still live in Jerusalem hold “blue cards,” which is still a Palestinian ID but specifies that you live in Jerusalem. Blue card holders are allowed to pass between Jerusalem and Ramallah, but sometimes face problems passing through West Bank checkpoints (ex. Between Ramallah and Nablus). Blue card holders are also able to travel inside Israel to Haifa, the sea, and Tel Aviv, but still do not usually hold Israeli passports.

Last weekend, Darin's green card meant that we should not pass through the Jerusalem checkpoints, which are the fastest route between Ramallah and Hebron. However, my American colleague and I are not able to pass through West Bank checkpoints in an Israeli-licensed vehicle. Basically it meant that we would have had to split into 2 vehicles simply to drive the 1 hour between Ramallah and Hebron (2 Palestinian cities.) Are you seeing the ridiculousness and humiliation of this situation? This is what military occupations do, they make normal life into something unrecognizable.

In the end, we decided to try passing the Jerusalem checkpoints together. Darin was interrogated and we were turned back from the checkpoint. She risked being arrested for even attempting to pass without the “special permission,” because she is Palestinian. It is humiliating and wrong, particularly because I, with my American passport, have much more freedom than she does in her own country and home. We ended up sitting at the checkpoint for half an hour, being asked numerous questions by the Israeli soldiers. We then were denied entry to Jerusalem, and drove another hour to a different checkpoint to pass through.

To return to my original point, over nargila we talked about how this situation in Palestine makes things that shouldn't be normal normal. Being interrogated by soldiers, waiting in line just to drive to the next city, allowing people to speak rudely to you and ask personal questions without protest. I notice it in myself. When I am at the checkpoints, I don't speak back to soldiers or question their rudeness to me. In order to let it pass as quickly as possible, I submit to the occupation's reality, just as people do here. As we spoke about though, it is scary sometimes to realize that you are allowing your basic dignity, self-respect, privacy to be breached without protest. Allowing the abnormal to become normal, and the situation to continue. Something to think about.

Ramallah thoughts

Ramallah is a city of about 25,000 people, the acting capital of Palestine and the location of headquarters for every major international organization operating in the West Bank and Gaza. Swirling around in this relatively small city is a fascinating mix of highly educated and mobile Palestinians, young Western backpackers, staff from the United Nations and every other major international NGO, average Palestinian shopkeepers and university students, and a city center that reminds me of the chaos of some neighborhoods in Cairo. I've seen Mercedes, Volvo, BMW and Lexus cars rolling through the streets, as well as broken-down cars from the 1980s parked in vacant lots. There are falafel shops and expensive boutiques, lush tree-lined streets and dry olive groves on nearby hills. Particularly after my short few days spent here, it is impossible yet to understand the mix of things that make up Ramallah.r But it is certainly different from any other place that I've stayed in the Middle East.

Every night since I've arrived I have gone out in the evenings with Darin. Darin is the Alumni Coordinator at PEFE, but she does basically everything from program management to event organizing from what I can tell. I am also staying with her and her family right now, during the process of finding a place to live. Darin is exceptionally generous, and I think this week she has been trying to introduce me to everyone she knows in Ramallah (slightly overwhelming but they're all very nice people.) :) We have been going out in the evenings, sitting in cafe's with the young Ramallah crowd, smoking nargila (hooka, water pipe) flavored with watermelon and mint (so good!) and enjoying casual conversation. Just as in the U.S., conversations are about work and family prevail, though stories of frustrations with the political situation tend to pepper the conversations here.

Many of Darin's friends work with international organizations, some with USAID, some with construction companies or NGOs that contract from USAID or the UN. Others work in the private sector here in Palestine for banks, real estate companies or business. They have impressive resumes, perhaps with degrees from U.S. Universities or from Birzeit (the leading university in Palestine). I feel a bit out of place in their company, mostly because of their fluency in the issues happening here. I'm learning a lot just from listening to them and becoming more familiar with all the developments, investments, projects and funding coming through Palestine these days. As I listen, I've been having a feeling of being lost, and still not knowing where us foreigners should really fit into the picture of 'development' in a place like the West Bank. What Palestine needs more than a proliferation of NGOs is a resolution to the political situation with Israel, open borders, and open trade with the rest of the world. It's difficult to measure the real impact of NGO programs here when they have become an industry that employees thousands and are now simply part of the economy; are these NGOs a drain on talent to the private sector and national development, or a positive force in promoting growth and development in themselves? I expect to hear many more conversations about this subject in Ramallah, a city where the mix of foreign influence and Palestinian interests is so poignant.

Day 1 at PEFE

Day one working with EFE in Ramallah. Let me explain EFE a little bit. EFE (Education for Employment Foundation) aims to provide practical training and skill-building workshops for students here in Palestine, and then provides them the connections and opportunities for employment. For fresh graduates from universities here, it is often difficult to secure a job, so PEFE targets these unemployed young people and gives them additional training and job connections.

Our goal today was to conduct interviews of employers of PEFE graduates in Hebron (al-Khalil) to understand their perspective on PEFE's training and ways we can improve or change the programs. After arriving in the morning, we held interviews with three employers that are partners with EFE. Each of these employers have hired women participants from EFE training programs in engineering or construction management. The most intriguing interview was with a contractor for the Hebron Rehabilitation Committee. This engineer is heading a small team which is reconstructing ruined homes in the Old City of Hebron. The EFE employee there is a small, soft-spoken young woman named Diana. It was striking to watch her on the work site – a group of men laborers watched her intently as she explained the plans for reconstructing a foundation. I have never seen an Arab woman on a construction site. We interviewed her boss, the head contractor. He had glowing praise for her, pointing out her attention to detail and organization skills as exceptional. As a girl who previously worked in a gravel pit, alone, I can imagine that Diana has to be exceptionally professional and skilled to be respected on the work site.

After the employer interviews, we held focus groups of PEFE applicants for an impact study. The goal of the impact study is primarily to evaluate whether PEFE programs are having a positive effect on students' "soft" skills - presentation, communication, workplace professionalism, etc as well as PEFE's general effect on the students. We listened to three groups of students talk about their frustrations, lack of opportunities and their desire to be given the chance to succeed. Later I was talking to my colleague and new friend Darin about what can be done to help these students. They have education, and plenty of motivation to work. Some of them are very talented. However, the political situation/occupation prevents the economy from growing independently of Israel, and job opportunities remain scarce. PEFE is trying to bridge the gap between theoretical studies in the university and practical skills training, and from what I see they are doing a good job. Many of PEFE's graduates have found work, and they are building a reputation for training excellent employees. However, just like many NGO programs here, it sometimes seems like a band-aid, keeping the frustrating situations of the participants under control and reaching a small population. Right now, that's the best most organizations can do in Palestine.

Gaza Flotilla and the Shadow over Israel

Retaliation and violence come again and again. For the people who live here, in Israel, the West Bank and Gaza, the cycles of retaliation and rage must seem all the more defeating and painful. Last year when I moved to Israel, it was just after the firebombing of Gaza that killed more than a thousand Palestinians. This year, it is the violent clashes between Israeli military and activists in the Gaza, Freedom Flotilla leaving nine people dead.

Israelis should be gravely concerned with this incident. Not only is the international reputation of Israel already shaky, but the world is also aware that there is a chink in the armor of the U.S.-Israel relationship. Videos of the incident from both Israeli military sources and from activists are flooding the internet. Regardless of who wins the media fight over “who started it” in the flotilla raid, the activists won this battle. Accidentally or otherwise killing nine international activists was a devastating mistake for Israel, and continues to undermine their failed strategy of isolating Gaza from the world. It undermines U.S. Support for Israel further and makes it extremely difficult for the U.S. to gain support needed to sanction Iran. Also, Turkey is a critical ally both for the U.S., and a partner for Israel in trade and tourism. The Israel-Turkey relationship may be all but ruined now. Israel has to wake up and realize that its actions will not keep it safe. Isolating Gaza and starving its people of dignity only fuel anger and helplessness. It is also slowly destroying the physical, emotional, social and psychological lives of millions of Palestinians. If countries in the world truly care about 'humanitarian crises' they must force Israel to end this blockade. Israel does have the right to defend itself from attack, as any country does. But walling off millions of people is no solution.

Amira Hass, an Israeli prize-winning journalist who writes for Ha'aretz, recently wrote an article pinpointing some of the linguistically misleading phrases used in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. (See her article in Haaretz here). I want to write more about this topic later as a whole, but one of the routinely used phrases she pointed out was on my mind today. “Israel transfers humanitarian aid to the Gaza Strip.” As Hass says, what would be more accurate would be that “Israel permits basic commodities to enter Gaza.” These commodities – basic medicines, food bundles, diapers and the like – are paid for by international organizations such as the UN or the Red Cross, and are generally sold to Gaza merchants.

Israel is not taking responsibility for Gaza's well-being, and neither is the world. We are relying on international organizations to keep Gazans alive, while leaving the situation unresolved. There is a reason why these activists are organizing time and time again to break the blockade. If not for them, there would simply be no one listening. As Margaret Atwood recently wrote, there is a Shadow over Israel. (See her article here). I can feel it too.

Road to Jerusalem

Tomorrow I take the long, familiar bus ride through the Sinai desert, up through the Negev, past the Dead Sea and on to the green hills of Jerusalem. I've taken this trip many times on my way to visit my aunt Audrey and her family. I've now started to make my own relationships and roots in Israel/Palestine, and wonder where it will take me.

Though this road seems familiar to me now, when I stop and think I feel so lucky to have the opportunity to experience this part of the world to the point of familiarity. It's complexity takes years to understand, and I have a lot more to learn. Yet I revel in the endless learning that it brings, and the ever-changing political and social contexts that make it the most fascinating place I've ever known.

This summer, I am living in the West Bank for the first time. After spending time last year with Arabs inside Israel, it will be a different side of the story to get to know Palestinians in Ramallah. My internship is with the Palestinian Education for Employment Foundation, which is an organization that offers trainings, mini-MBA programs and English lessons for university graduates and places them in employment throughout the Arab region. My job at PEFE for the summer will primarily be to help in setting up systems for them to evaluate their programs for effectiveness and plan for their future development.

Sometimes people comment to me that I always seem to choose 'hard' things to do. But that's not how I see it. I love what I do and I love being in this region. Though I'm always nervous go back, I'm also know I must learn more because there is still so much that I don't understand. And what makes me most want to come back are the friendships that I have with people here in Egypt, Israel and Palestine, who give me hope that people are good inside. I have to hold on to that, no matter how depressing the political situation can get, and no matter how hard I have to fight to be accepted by people here.

So my road back to Jerusalem doesn't seem so hard to me, it seems like where I belong. And I feel lucky to continue the journey.

Cairo memories

Hello again. After long months of not posting on this blog, I'm back! I spent this year at NYU, studying public administration and international development for my Master's. I've just moved back to the Middle East for the summer. I am currently passing through Cairo, Egypt, where I am visiting friends and recuperating from travel. In a couple of days I will be taking the bus up to Israel/Palestine. For the remainder of the summer I will be living and working in Ramallah – the acting capital city of the West Bank. More on that to come. :)

Being in Cairo feels so familiar. I wish I could love this city more. When I visit friends and return to some of my old city haunts :), I know why I always miss Cairo a little bit when I'm away. Some of my friends here are the best that I have, and both they and I know who I am here. What I've done, who I know, the values that I held. The balancing act that each foreigner here plays between being yourself and respecting the culture. The gradual loss of idealism that happens for many people here.

There are also the more tangible realities of being in Cairo that never change. I've been getting the familiar dull headaches each night that I remember so well – the result of inhaling toxic fumes all day from the traffic. I've already run out of foods that I care to eat here. Fuul and falafel are only exciting for about a day. :) Traffic is getting worse by the year. The call to prayer sounds loudly across the city, and I still get to wake up to the sounds of the vegetable street vendors selling their goods.

It's a city of many memories for me. Recent memories, and some that seem to be from another lifetime. After struggling through a very hard year in New York, coming back is a good reminder of the longer trajectory of my life. But having said that, I also have finally disconnected from Cairo. Having spent almost a full year away this time (the longest I've been away from Egypt since 2006!), and more importantly, having made the decision to move to Israel/Palestine last year – I think I've actually disengaged from Cairo as a place. It is no longer my home base, or my emotional connecting point to the Middle East.

I suppose in some ways, Cairo feels like the place where I grew up. :) The place where I spent the 'childhood of the rest of my life.' The place of my first friendships, the beginning of my career, my understanding of Arab culture, my start with Arabic language, and the place where I started to figure out my place in it all. I don't think Cairo will be the place I live, or invest my life in. But I will always love Cairo and my friends here, and be thankful for all the life lessons that they taught me.