My sharing with you the latest news alert of the AJDS, one of the ways I can live in this world. Thank you Max, Savan, Larry, Danya and all the others who keep this organization able to do
its work. In "Just Voices #3" on line newsletter you can find my article on the Lesbian Herstory Archives and I why it means so much to me to volunteer my grassroots archival skills to AJDS.


Australian Jewish Democratic Society


Dear AJDS members and supporters,

Welcome to the latest edition of the new fortnightly update email from the AJDS. We send out this email every other Thursday chock full of updates on AJDS activities, notices of events, articles of interest, historical material and much more!

Watch your email Monday morning for the announcement of an upcoming AJDS special event and stay tuned on Thursday for the release of the next instalment of our Oral History project.

1. AJDS news and statements: 

The AJDS recently issued a statement on July 22nd regarding the current Gaza war. You can read it here. Our previous statement on the current war, issued July 14th, is available here.

Yesterday, AJDS executive member Larry Stillman published an article called 'Why crying wolf on anti-Semitism harms us all' on the Crikey website. 

In case you missed it, you can read here the latest issue of our newsletter - 'Just Voices #3, The Anniversary issue - Perspectives on History' celebrating the AJDS' 30th anniversary this year.

2. Articles and videos of interest:

Due to the complexity and urgency of the situation in Israel/Palestine at the moment, we're including in this update a number of links to important articles covering the current situation:

The abnormal normality of the occupation and its 'escalations' by Mya Guarnieri 14/07
Why do Palestinians continue to support Hamas despite such devastating losses? by Noam Sheizaf 22/07
Reaping what we have sown in Gaza by Amira Hass 21/07
Why I object to Israel's military campaign in Gaza even as Hamas fires missiles at my cityby Noam Sheizaf 15/07
Speak Up by Roni Krouzman 18/07
VIDEO: Four minutes of Terror in Shuja'iyah 23/07
Letter from Gaza by a Norwegian doctor by Mads Gilbert 20/07
We are Israeli reservists. We refuse to serve. 23/07
Racism becomes the norm in Israel: Political scientist - Interview with Marcelo Svirsky on RN 23/07

3. Upcoming events:
 

End Israel's Massacre in Gaza Protest
1pm Saturday 26th July
State Library (opposite Melbourne Central Train Station)

Israel's appalling attacks on the Palestinians in Gaza continues.  As of the 23rd of July, the Palestinian death toll has surpassed 630, including large numbers of children.  The massacre on the suburb of Shujai'iya alone left at least 67 Palestinians dead. Netanyahu has vowed to continue the attacks for an indefinite period of time. It is vital that we stand against this massacre of the Palestinians and call for justice for Palestine

End the blockade of Gaza by Israel and Egypt. 

End the War. 

End Australia's Support for Israel. 

Invite friends and share the Facebook event. 

 

 

This Sunday July 27th at 2.30 pm at the Melbourne Multicultural Hub, 506 Elizabeth St
(opposite Victoria Market), come to the Melbourne launch of 'The Drownings Argument' a Labor for Refugees publication edited by AJDS executive member Robin Rothfield. More details here. The RSVP date has been extended to this Friday July 25th. Please seehere a report from Robin on the launch of the book in Parliament House, Canberra.
 

Women's International Solidarity Australia (WISA) are holding a Sunday lunch with guest speakers FARIDA BEZHAN and 13 year old SANAN BEZHAN who were recently in Afghanistan, will speak of their experiences and the situation for women in Afghanistan. With poetry reading by MUJTABA RAZAI. Sun August 3, Noon for 12.30pmAFGHAN VALLEY RESTAURANT, Level 1, 315 Elizabeth Street, Melbourne. TICKETS: $40, $35 concession, $50 WISA Solidarity. BOOKINGS essential by August 1: valuciamend@gmail.com. All proceeds go to WISA's microfinance training project for women in Afghanistan. More info or make a donation: visit http://womensinternationalsolidarity.org/

Tzedek will host a live public screening of the Australian Broadcasting Corporation ABC documentary Code of Silence, which features the story of Tzedek founder and CEO Manny Waks.The film will be screened at the Classic Cinema Elsternwick on Tuesday 12 August at 8:30pm. It will be followed by a panel discussion with film director Danny Ben-Moshe, Manny Waks and another guest, and moderated by Colin Golvin QC. More information and tickets available here.

Kind regards,
 

Max Kaiser
Community Organiser, Australian Jewish Democratic Society
0423234069
www.ajds.org.au

The words of khulud khamis, a Palestinian writer and feminist activist from Haifa

On Saturday evening, 19 July, 2014, some dozen Haifa feminist activists gathered in the Haifa Women’s Coalition house to prepare signs for the protest march scheduled to take place at 21:30 in Carmel Center, Haifa. The atmosphere was positive, there was a sense that we are doing something, raising our voice, refusing to be silenced. We took photographs of ourselves with the signs and with the word ENOUGH written on our palms in Arabic (خلص), Hebrew (די), and English. At around 21:00 we headed towards Carmel Center, to join the march, organized by the Hadash Arab-Jewish party.

As soon as we arrived, we were completely taken aback by the scene. At least 2,000 extreme right-wing protesters were gathered at the point from which our march was to begin. We were moved to a different nearby location. We were few. Some accounts say we were several hundreds, but I don’t think there was more than 250 of us. Maybe even 200.

We could not march. The extreme right-wing protesters kept coming in, and were spread over on the other side of the main street, mainly chanting “death to Arabs” and “death to leftists.” I felt fear rise in my throat. I began taking pictures. At one point, I realized that when the protest is over, it will be very dangerous to disperse. I searched for our international intern and made sure that she doesn’t leave alone. Then I asked three of my friends – separately – if I can join them in their car and if they can drive me home. Three, because I wanted to make sure that if I lose sight of any of them, I have alternatives.

Throughout the protest, we held signs saying immediate cease fire, war is not my language, Arabs and Jews refuse to be enemies. The protest came to an end when the last of the protestors who came out of Haifa got on the bus and left. Or so we thought. This was just the beginning. At this point, we remained about 50 protestors – mainly from Haifa, who came on foot or by car. Our intention was to disperse and go home.

That’s all we wanted, to go home. Peacefully. Throughout the whole of what happened next, all we wanted was to get home.

The police began dispersing as well. But the extreme right-wing protestors didn’t show any signs of dispersing. On the contrary, they just kept multiplying. Not only that, we soon realized that they were spread in groups in all the alleys surrounding us, behind bushes at the entrances to buildings, everywhere. Ambushing protestors trying to leave. My friends and I (at this point we were 6 or 7) tried to leave through the back yard of one of the buildings, and soon were chased back by angry protestors who were ambushing us with the aim of attacking us physically.

Back with the group of 50 protestors, we found ourselves moving slowly down the street, with no clear plan of what or how. At one point, my 5 friends somehow succeeded to break away and leave. Later I learned that two of them were beaten, one ended up in the hospital for concussion.

I remained with the 50 last protestors, and we came to a corner and stopped there. The scene in front of us was terrifying. In my estimation, there were about 1,500 of them. Surrounding us, approaching us, chanting death to Arabs. I looked at the street, and saw maybe 15 regular, unarmed policemen where half an hour before where hundreds of policemen, some on horseback.

We shrank back. A young teenage girl began crying behind me. An older woman said let’s go into one of the apartments. I screamed at one of the policemen: get us a bus! Then at one of the organizers the same thing. It was so easy at this point to just call a bus and get the hell out of there. We found ourselves posting statuses on Facebook that we are surrounded, we began calling 100 (police hotline). At this point, stones began flying at us. Large. One of them hit my friend in the side of her head. We were now crouching, our hands over our heads. I could smell the fear among us.

To me, this seemed to go on forever. It went on maybe for an hour. Later I learned that from my friends who saw our calls for help on Facebook that many of them called 100. The police, realizing it’s getting worse, at this point brought in the water cannon and armed police. Still, the water cannon didn’t help disperse the angry crowd.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the police decided to start moving us alongside the sidewalk. We begin walking, chased by the angry mob. As we walk, they pop up from everywhere: from alleys, entrances to houses. Stones keep flying in our direction. We keep moving through the alleyways. I have a feeling the police has no plan, no idea of what to do with us. We walk for about one kilometre. We stop at a roundabout. Now the police officers are arguing about what to do with us. I try again: “bring us a bus!” About 15-20 minutes later, a bus drives past, one of the night lines. The police stops the bus, gets the passengers off, and we get on.

We start moving. To me, it seemed we were driving in circles, as the angry mob was still chasing us in their cars. To me, it seemed that the ride was taking forever. We didn’t know where the bus is taking us. Finally, we arrive at Maxim restaurant by the beach. The place is full of police, and the water cannon. We get off the bus, and there seems to be no extremists in sight. It seems that everything is behind us. We get on another bus that’s waiting there. We have no idea where this bus will take us. Yet there’s a feeling of relief. We all get on the bus, and the bus starts pulling away.

All of a sudden, and out of nowhere, rocks fly at the bus. Moments of terror. The side windows are broken and there is glass everywhere. We scream at the driver to keep driving, as the police has finally left us and we are on our own.

The bus arrives at the German Colony, an Arab neighbourhood. We disembark. At last, a feeling of some sort of safety. Still, I find myself looking around me. Some of us, who live nearby, disperse. The rest, about 25 or so, head to the headquarters of the Hadash party. I’m shaking. Three of my friends come and pick me up in their car.

During all this, about ten women friends of mine stayed close to their phones and Facebook, calling, sending messages, asking what can we do, how can we help, calling the police. They wanted to come and pick us up, but there was no way. There were literally thousands of these extremists spread out all over the Carmel Center.

My friends drive me home, and during the drive, we keep watching cars passing us by, making sure we are not followed. When we reach my neighbourhood, a Jewish one, we stay in the car for several minutes to make sure nobody is around. Then, my friend walks me home. In the safety of my home, suddenly, I fell exposed, unsafe. The cat’s movement causes me to jump. An hour later, a friend calls to bring me something. I walk outside to meet her, and she puts her finger to her mouth, indicating we should not speak in Arabic. We stand in the street, speaking Hebrew.

I sit at my computer and write a short description of my experience, and as I write, I realize that what went on there was a pogrom. I realize that it could have ended not with people injured, but with people dead. I shiver as I recall the eyes full of murder. People who actually wanted me dead. For being an Arab. Not for any other reason.

This is my personal account of what happened on Saturday night. I’ve heard similar experiences from other activists who were with us. For me, it is becoming scary just to walk down the street or ride the bus. I have explicitly told my daughter not to talk in Arabic in public spaces. I myself am afraid to answer calls from Arab friends while on the bus for fear of being attacked.

This is Haifa 2014.  

khulud khamis

Haifa 22 July, 2014

khulud is a Palestinian writer and feminist activist from Haifa

Litany of Failed Vision

“Wadha Abu Amr, 62, said her family were refugees from Beersheba who fled in 1948 during the war over Israel’s founding. ‘I’m afraid that this is another 1948,’ she said. ‘God forbid. We were driven out in 1948 and we are being driven out again now.’” (from The Age, July 22, 2014, reporter, Anne Barnard from Gaza City)

From State of Siege by Mahmoud Darwish (translated from the Arabic by Munir Akash and Daniel abdal-hayy Moore, 2010):

“Standing or sitting, perpetually, eternally,

We have just one goal: to be!

Beyond that, we disagree about everything—

We disagree on the design of the national flag

(my people, you’d be wise to choose the modest donkey for its symbol!)

We disagree about the words of the new anthem

(you’d be wise to choose the marriage song of the mourning dove!)

We disagree about the role of women

(you’d be wise to choose a woman to preside

Over all security arrangements!).

We disagree on percentages, what’s private, what’s public,

But we agree on one thing: to be.

Beyond that, everyone should be free to choose

Whatever goal he or she desires.”

Litany of Failed Vision

How does not recognizing the sadness of another exiled people make Israel safe?

How does not recognizing the displacement of another people make Israel safe?

How does not allowing the use of the word Nakbor make Israel safe?

How does not allowing the poetry of Mahmoud Darwish to be taught in schools make Israel safe?

How does the imprisonment of thousands of Palestinian children and the brutal deaths of hundreds make Israel safe?

How does refusing Palestinian cancer patients the treatment they need make Israeli safe?

How does refusing Palestinian college students permission to travel for their educations make Israel safe?

How does the accumulated anger of 60 years of Occupation make Israel safe?

How does relying on American money for military might instead of Israeli empathetic diplomacy make Israel safe?

How do the illegal settlements make Israel safe?

 How does the deaths of thousands of Palestinian olive trees make Israel safe?

How does having a generation of Israeli children who think hating Arabs is an Israeli social value make Israel safe?

How does Israel’s self vision as a country like no other, as a people like no other, make Israel safe?

How does cultivating its own form of nationalistic extremism make Israel safe?

How does only grieving for its own make Israel safe?

How does language like, “every few years, we go in and mow the grass,” referring to Gaza and the deaths of its people, make Israel safe?

How does making life almost un livable for so many make Israel safe?

How does letting itself be seen as the “villa in the jungle” make Israel safe?

How does allowing rivers of hatred to flow in the streets make Israel safe?

How does total control over an imprisoned people make Israel safe, make it unlike all the other regimes who grew strong on the erased worlds of unwanted others? Grew strong until others came to their senses.

How does trying to break the spirit of a proud people make Israel feel safe?

What stories will it tell the future of what a once almost erased people did in the world when it had its safety?

“All you who stay up late, aren’t you sick of watching

The glitter in our salt,

The glowing roses in our wounds?

Hasn’t this gone on long enough?”

Mahmoud Darwish, from State of Siege, (2010)

Once again, the voice of the Australian Jewish Democratic Society here in Melbourne, where I have found comrades of heart and mind.

Dear AJDS members and supporters,

The AJDS executive have just released the following statement, available online here:

As Jews and Israelis living outside Israel the AJDS recognises its responsibility to speak out against the ongoing violence in Gaza.

As the ground offensive continues, and increasing numbers of civilians are being killed, the AJDS condemns the ongoing violence in Gaza and Israel.  At this time when more than 470 Palestinians in Gaza have been killed, including at least 364 civilians (121 of them children), more than 3,500 Palestinians have been injured (including at least 1104 children), and 27 Israelis have been killed (25 soldiers and 2 civilians), we recognise that these attacks are overwhelmingly being perpetrated against Palestinian civilians. We further note that civilians across Israel are living in fear and that the cost is falling disproportionately upon the most marginalised – Bedouin in the South with no bomb shelters, no air raid sirens and no iron dome over their communities. Thousands of Gazans have now lost their homes in the attacks, and some 100,000 have fled their homes, many to seek shelter in UN compounds.  Thousands of Israeli civilians have also fled their homes under rocket-fire in the south of Israel.

Overnight 20-21 July Australian time more than 60 Palestinians were killed in the neighbourhood of Shuja’iyya: a massacre took place while we slept. The hospitals in Gaza are overflowing, and as the blockade of Gaza continues there is nowhere to flee.

We reject the claims that these attacks, with such a high civilian toll, are genuinely advancing the security interests of Israelis. Rather, they breed more suffering and hatred, and with it more extremism, that can lead only to further acts of violence, increased segregation and regional isolation. We recognise that Jews in Israel and across the world will never truly be free until Palestinians share in our freedom.  That for Israel to truly be a safe home for Jews in the Middle East, there is no option but to achieve a political resolution with Palestine and neighbouring States. These attacks do nothing to resolve those outstanding political issues and advance real peace and security for both peoples.  Instead, Israel relegates itself to increasing political and economic isolation, to a future of higher walls, bigger tanks, stronger missiles.

We condemn the failure of all parties to reach a ceasefire agreement that recognises the depth of the issues present.  We also condemn the apparent failure of Egyptian authorities to genuinely consult and convey the terms of a proposed ceasefire last week, and mourn the loss of life that has occurred on both sides since. We recognise that Israel and Egypt’s blockade on Gaza is unlawful and has caused immeasurable suffering for the 1.8 million civilians confined there both physically and economically. We recognise the role both of the blockade and Israel’s mass-arrests of Palestinians following the murder of 3 Israeli teenagers in the West Bank in sparking the current cycle of violence.

We call on Israel, Hamas and Egyptian authorities to immediately implement a ceasefire, and commence serious tripartate negotiations, in good faith, toward meeting the humanitarian needs of Gazans and that considers the terms proposed by Hamas for a 10 year truce.

At this time, words become important but insufficient. We encourage all our members and supporters to speak out and write letters where possible. Contact Foreign Minister Julie Bishop, Prime Minister Tony Abbott, and the Israeli Ambassador in Australia, asking them to pressure the Israeli, Hamas and Egyptian authorities.

We also encourage you to donate:

- UNRWA has set up an emergency appeal, details of which can be found here: http://www.unrwa.org/content/gaza-emergency-appeal

- Australian Union Aid Abroad has also launched an urgent appeal for donations to support hospitals in Gaza, you can donate here -http://www.apheda.org.au/news/1405403245_13079.html

- Rabbis for Human Rights http://rhr.org.il/eng/

- B’Tselem  http://www.btselem.org/about_btselem/make_a_difference

- NIF Emergency Grant Fund to counter incitement and violence http://www.nif.org.au/nif_gives_emergency_grants_jul_2014

AJDS Executive
22/07/2014


Kind regards,

Max Kaiser
Community Organiser, Austr

From Talma in Haifa: Letter by Over 200 Israeli Citizens to European Council Calling for Truce

On Sunday – July 20^th – a group of more than 200 Israeli citizens sent a letter to the European Council, Commission and the European Parliament calling on the EU to pressure Israel to accept Hamas’ terms of truce.

Also up to day 725 Israeli citizens signed Hebrew/Arabic language online petition supporting Hamas’ conditions as a basis for immediate and direct negotiations

Israeli Citizens Accept Terms of Truce as Proposed by Hamas:

We, the undersigned citizens of Israel, call on the European Council, Commission and Parliament to pressure Israel to accept the terms of truce presented by Hamas (as they were published in Israeli and international media outlets).

The terms echo previous recommendations made by the UN and the European Union and major human rights organisations, most notably in the Goldstone Report. The refusal of the Israeli government to address these terms results in sacrifice of civilian lives for the sake of ongoing occupation, and thwarting the long-awaited Palestinian national unity agreement.

Israel’s reluctance to seriously address all political and diplomatic proposals made by Palestinian leadership, regional and international mediators, is costly in lives. It also gives rise to worrying tendencies within the Israeli public, swayed by governmental rhetoric of “no partner”. This can no longer be acquiesced.

These are the conditions of Hamas (according to media reporting). We fully endorse these conditions as first steps toward a just solution in Israel/Palestine.

•   Withdrawal of Israeli tanks from the Gaza border;
•   Freeing all the prisoners that were arrested after the killing of the three youths;
•   Lifting the siege and opening the border crossings to commerce and people;
•   Establishing an international seaport and airport, which would be under U.N.supervision;
•   Increasing the permitted fishing zone to 10 kilometres;
•   Internationalizing the Rafah Crossing and placing it under the supervision of the U.N. and some Arab nations;
•   International forces on the borders;
•   Easing conditions for permits to pray at the Al Aqsa Mosque;
•   Prohibition on Israeli interference in the reconciliation agreement;
•   Re-establishing an industrial zone and improvements in further economic development in the Gaza Strip.

We are all appalled by the death and destruction in Gaza. Yet, this is not simply a tragedy; this is a policy. It can and it must be changed. It is in the power of political leaders and peaceful nations. We urge you to act immediately so that Israel ceases all violence against the people of Gaza, ends the siege and takes action towards a just peace.

• News

  Campaigns:
  • Call for action: Hold Israel accountable for its attack on Gaza!.
  • Question your candidates for the European Elections about EU-Israel relations.
  • Tell HP to stop funding Israel’s apartheid..
  • CALL FOR ACTION: Tell your government to issue warning to business about the involvement with illegal Israeli settlements!.
  • Stop Israeli destruction and forcible displacement of the Palestinian community of Beit Safafa in occupied East Jerusalem!.
  • End EU support for Israel's arms companies.
  Articles:
  • Campaigning for Palestinian Rights in Europe.
  Briefing papers:
  • The contribution of European businesses to the existence and expansion of illegal Israeli settlements.
  • Position paper on EU policy for the Gaza Strip.
  • The Protocol on the participation of Israel in Community programmes.
  • European trade and financial transactions in support of Israel’s illegal settlements.
  Statements:
  • 10 years of ongoing impunity for Israeli annexation and apartheid policies. It's time for justice and accountability .
  • Recent demolitions and the announcement of more Israeli settlement units in the Occupied West Bank.
  • Israel’s participation in European Union programs including Horizon 2020.
  • The EU Responds to the Jerusalemites Campaign and ECCP’s Question on Israeli Accountability.
  • ECCP Statement on the EU guidelines excluding settlements from EU-funded projects.

• Facebook

  Fourni par Dakola

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  • Activestills

Gaza is Under Attack, A Message from Mohammed Soliman

Our friend Hannah Saffran who for so many years along with the women of the Haifa's Women's Center has worked for peace and mutual respect in Israel, is sending out messages from the war zone, wanting us to hear. This letter came to her via David Clinch, Mohammed's friend from England.

Hi,
May God bring all of us peace and safety.

It's not hard to describe what's going on here, in my little Gaza, but it's impossible to tell you of our various and different feelings in each second in the last ten days.

Ladies and Gentle men
We love, we worry, we breath, we think, we create, we learn and teach, we work and sleep.
Basically we are humans, who dare!!!
Ten days fully of death, shelling, TNT smell, wounded and martyrs pictures, and love to live with dignity.

233 until now killed, 1500 wounded, hundreds of houses totally destroyed and thousands partially.

Here under attack, you have a lot to do and worry about, holding your phone after every airstrike to check
out your friends and family still alive and receiving calls back in the next close one in the same time call some friends celebrating world cup matches results while you're trying to close your son's ears as much as you can.

"Here on the slopes of the hills, facing the dusk and the cannon of time
close to the gardens of broken shadows,
We do what prisoners do,
and what the jobless do:
We cultivate hope."

Breaking news: while I am writing the Israeli air fighters killed five more children, so it becomes 238 in a minute and we still cultivate hope.

Our supporters,
Thank you for raising the awareness of people around the world, it makes a difference.

while we are close to death, we want you to know that we are fighting to live, not to die, we are dreaming and fighting for peace and love and our humanity.

To Israelis
We mustn't die to live in safety, nobody should die.
One of you killed and 237 Palestinians, you can see and judge, you can stop the aggression and occupation, we want any kind of peace that guarantees forgive, are you ready...

To Mr Obama
If you really believe that Israeli army doesn't break the international law, you must change it!

To My People
You're very unique and strong, you're the hope, your children's souls will bring peace one day. Better days are coming because you deserve it.

To My Son,
I might lose my life, you might not be able to remember my face, but please don't forget that the power is the power to forgive...

and please support Holland and England in every World Cup, even if the always lose.

and keep telling your mother how much you love her.

Mohammed A. Soliman

A message in response:
Mohammed,
We wish you, your family, all Palestinians in occupied Gaza, the West Bank, in Refugee Camps in Palestine and outside Palestine, in Israel and in exile, life
With much love from all of us here supporting you.
In solidarity and love
David Clinch
Chair North Devon PSC

Mohammed can be contacted on:
https://www.facebook.com/m7md.Y?fref=ts

"Sayed Kashua: Why I Have to Leave Israel": The Stories We Do not Want to Know

From The Guardian, July 24, 2014

Sayed Kashua: Why I Have to Leave Israel

The Arab-Israeli author moved to Jerusalem as a child and has devoted his life to telling Israelis the Palestinian story. But last week he decided to emigrate with his family to the US.

Quite soon I am going away from here. In a few days we’ll be leaving Jerusalem, leaving the country. Yesterday we bought little suitcases for the kids. No need to take a lot of clothes, we’ll leave our winter clothes; in any event they won’t be warm enough given the cold of southern Illinois, USA. We’ll just need a few things until we get settled. Perhaps the kids should take some books, two or three in Arabic, and another few in Hebrew, so they don’t forget the languages. But I’m already not sure what I want my kids to remember of this place, so beloved and so cursed.

The original plan was to leave in a month for a year’s sabbatical. But last week I understood that I can’t stay here any longer, and I asked the travel agent to get us out of here as fast as possible, “and please make them one-way tickets.” In a few days we’ll land in Chicago, and I don’t even know where we’ll be for the first month, but we’ll figure it out.

I have three children, a daughter who is already 14 years old, and two sons, aged nine and three. We live in West Jerusalem. We are the only Arab family living in our neighbourhood to which we moved  six years ago. “You can chose two toys,” we said this week in Hebrew to our little boy who stood in his room gazing at boxes, and he started to cry despite our promises that we will buy him anything he wants when we get there.

I also have to decide what to take. I can chose only two books, I said to myself standing in front of the shelves of books in my study. Other than a book of poetry by Mahmoud Darwish and another story collection by Jubran Khalil, all my books are in Hebrew. Since the age of 14, I have barely read a book in Arabic.

When I was 14 I saw a library for the first time. Twenty-five years ago my maths teacher in the village of Tira, where I was born, came to my parents’ home and told them that next year the Jews would be opening a school for gifted students in Jerusalem. He said to my father that he thought I should apply, “It will be better for him there,” I remember the teacher telling my parents. I got in, and when I was the age of my daughter I left my home to go to a Jewish boarding school in Jerusalem. It was so difficult, almost cruel. I cried when my father hugged me and left me at the entrance of the grand new school, nothing like I had ever seen in Tira.

I once wrote that the first week in Jerusalem was the hardest week of my life. I was different, other; my clothes were different, as was my language. All of the classes were in Hebrew—science, bible, literature. I sat there not understanding one word. When I tried to speak everyone would laugh at me. I so much wanted to run back home, to my family, to the village and friends, to the Arabic language. I cried on the phone to my father that he should come and get me, and he said that only the beginnings are hard, that in a few months I would speak Hebrew better then they do.

I remember the first week, our literature teacher asked us to read The Catcher in the Rye by Salinger. It was the first novel I ever read. It took me several weeks to read it, and when I finished I understood two things that changed my life. The first was that I could read a book in Hebrew, and the second was the deep understanding that I loved books.

Very quickly my Hebrew became nearly perfect. The boarding school library only had books in Hebrew, so I began to read more Israeli authors. I read Agnon, Meir Shalev, Amos Oz and I started to read about Zionism, about Judaism and the building of the homeland.

During these years I also began to understand my own story, and without planning to so do I began to write about Arabs who live in an Israeli boarding school, in the western city, in a Jewish country. I began to write, believing that all I had to do to change things would be to write the other side, to tell the stories that I heard from my grandmother. To write how my grandfather was killed in the battle over Tira in 1948, how my grandmother lost all of our land, how she raised my father while she supported herself them as a fruit picker paid by the Jews.

I wanted to tell, in Hebrew, about my father who sat in jail for long years, with no trial, for his political ideas. I wanted to tell the Israelis a story, the Palestinian story. Surely when they read it they will understand, when they read it they will change, all I have to do is write and the Occupation will end. I just have to be a good writer and they will free my people from the ghettos they live in, tell good stories in Hebrew and I will be safe, another book, another movie, another newspaper column and another script for television and my children will have a better future. Thanks to my stories one day we will turn into equal citizens, almost like the Jews.

Twenty-five years of writing in Hebrew and nothing has changed. Twenty-five years clutching at the hope, believing it is not possible that people can be so blind. Twenty-five years during which I had few reasons to be optimistic but continued to believe that one day this place in which both Jews and Arabs live together would be the one story where the story of the other is not denied. That one day the Israelis would stop denying the Nakba, the Occupation, and the suffering of the Palestinian people. That one day the Palestinians would be willing to forgive and together we would build a place that was worth living in.

Twenty-five years that I am writing and knowing bitter criticism from both sides, but last week I gave up. Last week something inside of me broke. When Jewish youth parade through the city shouting, “Death to the Arabs,” and attack Arabs only because they are Arabs, I understood that I has lost my little war.

I listened to the politicians and the media and I know that they are differentiating between blood and blood, between peoples. Those who have become the powers that be say expressly what most Israelis think, “We are a better people then Arabs.” On panels that I participated in, it was said that Jews are a superior people, most entitled to live. I despair to know that an absolute majority in the country does not recognise the rights of an Arab to live.

After my last column some readers beseeched that I be exiled to Gaza, threatened to break my legs, to kidnap my children. I live in Jerusalem, and I have some wonderful Jewish neighbours, and friends, but I still cannot take my children to day camps or to parks with their Jewish friends. My daughter protested furiously and said no one would know she is an Arab because of her perfect Hebrew but I would not listen. She shut herself in her room and wept.

Now I am standing in front of my bookshelves, Salinger in hand, the one I read 14 years ago. I don’t want to take any books, I decided, I have to concentrate on my new language. I know how hard it is, almost impossible, but I must find another language to write in, my children will have to find another language to live in.

“Don’t come in,” my daughter shouted angrily when I knocked on her  door. I went in anyway. I sat down next to her on the bed and despite her back turned to me I knew she was listening. You hear, I said, before I repeated to her exactly the same sentence my father said to me 25 years ago. “Remember, whatever you do in for life, for them you will always, but always, be an Arab. Do you understand?

“I understand,” my daughter said, hugging me tightly. “Dad, I knew  that a long time ago.”

“Quite soon we’ll be leaving here,” as I messed up her hair, just as she hates. “Meanwhile, read this,” I said and gave her The Catcher in the Rye.

Sayed Kashua is a Palestinian writer whose novels have been translated into 15 languages. The film Dancing Arabs, based on his first novel, opened the 2014 Jerusalem International film festival. His most recent novel, Exposure, was published by Chatto & Windus. Translated by Deborah Harris

Again, I share with you words ripped out of the despair and desperation of the Palestine/Israel. 

Israeli Fascists Attack Israeli Peace Rally - Injuries

"What happened here last night is unprecedented in a major Israeli city. "

from Rann Bar-On

I'm going to try to write up what I saw, heard, and experienced at the anti-war demonstration in the Carmel Center, Haifa on Saturday, July 19th 2014. This was a difficult and traumatizing experience, one of the worst I have faced in over a decade of activism. Please forgive rough writing. This is my point of view, and as such, is clouded. I can only write what I saw and experienced. All times are approximate.

9pm, opposite Ha'Agala Burekas restaurant, Moria Ave, Haifa: my partner and I are in my parents' car, heading to the demonstration that is supposed to start at this location at 9:30. As we drive up, we see a huge police presence, including armored horses, a water canon, and hundred of police. Getting closer, we see what they're there for: over a thousand right wing counter-protestors have showed up, chanting, waving Israeli and army flags, calling the left 'traitors'.

9:05pm: We call the organizers, in a half-panic. We're told that the demo has been moved a few hundred yards down the street, nearer the Carmel Center. As we're walking, I see a policeman shoving a man with a sign supporting the left. He's bleeding. We later find out he was punched in the face by one of the right wingers.

9:10pm, at the entrance to the Kababir neighborhood, Moria Ave: we arrive at the new site for the demonstration. We're practically alone with a ton of heavily armored police. At this stage, it seems utterly irresponsible to encourage people to march. Being outnumbered doesn't begin to describe the situation we were in. We head off to a nearby restaurant for a few minutes.

9:20pm: People are trickling in. I walk around, trying to explain to folks there what I saw down the street (most people came from a different direction). I've been an activist for many years, and have attended hundreds of demonstrations. From experience, we can deal with the police, almost no matter what they do. We can't deal with huge numbers violent counter-demonstrators out to kill us. A sense of bewilderment seems to be the dominant theme.

9:25pm: The main organizers ask us to move people into the adjacent park. I ask people to do so, and for the most part, they do. At this point, many counter-demonstrators have moved to stand opposite us, and are being held back by the police. Chants of “Death to Arabs”, “Death to traitors”, “Death to leftists” come from the other side of the street. Their numbers are swelling, fast.

9:30pm: We're asked to move back onto the sidewalk from the park, as the police say they cannot protect us in the park. With all that's going, much of this gets lost.

9:45pm: Our side is swelling, but the other side is swelling faster. There are supposed to be buses arriving from other parts of the country. We chant slogans for unity: “Jews and Arabs refuse to be enemies”; “Both in Gaza and in Sderot, children want to live”; “Peace isn't built on childrens' bodies”; “Gaza, stand strong, we'll end the Occupation yet”; and many more. Banners are raised. Red flags and Palestinians flags are waving. The other side is jumping up and down, singing nationalist songs, waving Israeli and army brigade flags, all the time pushing against the police line. Our side does not at all push against the police. There's no point: if the line were to be broken, we'd be facing a raving mob head on.

10pm: Buses should be arriving from other parts of the country. They do not. We get word that the police has blocked buses of our supporters from coming.

10:05pm: One bus arrives, barely. It takes a long few minutes for the police to get the bus through the right wing folks. When they pull up, I go over to greet them. Turns out it was a bus from Nazareth. Our ranks are swelled a bit more. Still, we're outnumbered, by a long shot.

Over the next thirty minutes or so, one more bus arrives. We found out much later that four buses were blocked completely by the police.

10:45pm: By now, a few small scuffles have broken out between police and the counter-demonstrators. A couple of them are arrested. Chanting keeps up on both sides. We shout for life, they shout for death. I stay as close to the front as I can, right up to the police line. Tempers flare here and there.

As a Jewish Israeli, it's very very difficult for me to even consider trying to hold back Arab protesters. It isn't my place. They have so much more to be angry about than I do. Our privilege, being identified by the state as being Jewish, is huge. Yet I seem to have taken on a role of responsibility, together with my Arab friends. This is a tough paragraph to write. I don't want to appear arrogant. Yet it seemed at the time that all our efforts were appreciated by those trying to keep others from getting badly hurt.

10:50pm: A couple of demonstrators from our side get snatched by police and arrested, violently. Looking across the street, I see murder gleaming in the eyes of the fascists. I don't use that word lightly, but when a huge gang is quite literally calling for us to be killed, it's appropriate, I think.

Much later, we find out that a few of our folks found themselves attacked by the right. One broken nose, one broken shoulder. Maybe more.

A few bottles are thrown on us. Nothing much, at least not compared to what was to come later.

11pm: Someone decides to move into the neighborhood, away from the main street. People are terrified, as the counter-demonstrators are still swelling and getting closer. In principle, this should be the end of the demonstration. The police allow some of the counter-demonstrators across the street, near the bus. Other police try to herd some of our side onto the bus. The bus is headed back to another town. Police barely manage to get it out.

11:20pm: We're trying to disperse. Outside of the West Bank, where protests are suppressed with heavy crowd-control measures, I've never been to a demonstration where the hardest part is leaving. A group of folks from Tel Aviv ask us to help them, to take them through the back streets to where their bus is. They can't find all their people. We stand with them in a courtyard, with people trying to get through the back the building. Suddenly, they come running back, shouting that the rightists are coming from behind. Across the narrow side street, many of them have moved opposite us, shouting and gesturing. Police are barely to be seen.

11:30pm: We move to the corner of the next street. There are around 100 of us left at this point, as many somehow managed to escape, perhaps on a bus, perhaps in small groups on foot. We can't tell. My partner and I agree that we're not leaving until everyone is safe. All three opposite corners, and quite a way down the streets, are covered with our opposition. It's a terrifying scene. We're surrounded. Police are hanging out in the middle, looking utterly clueless. Their horses and heavy machinery are nowhere to be seen. For only the second time in my life, I'm wishing for police protection.

11:40pm: Stones start flying toward us. Not many, but large. We have older folks with us, some over 70. We use the sticks holding our flags to try to deflect the stones like baseballs. A few hit people. People are bleeding. Police look almost as scared as we are, and still, they do almost nothing to help us get the hell out. They have helmets. Needless to say, we do not.

This doesn't stop. We chant those same slogans for unity: “Jews and Arabs refuse to be enemies”. It seems so damn empty at this point, facing hundred of Zionist Jews who want to see us dead. Not in jail. Dead. I talk to a few people. The word 'pogrom' starts being whispered. These are highly experienced folks, for the most part, who do not use such words lightly.

Midnight: A policeman tells us to stand back. In his words “there is going to be a mess here”. A water cannon shows up. Armored police horses show up. I find myself almost relieved. When the water cannon is shot right at one of the bunches of right wingers, a cheer goes up from our side. Myself and few others shout at them to stay quiet: “We do NOT cheer police, ever!”

More stones. More chants for murder. We're still trapped. A few people try to push out to escape the hell we're in. They are pushed back by police and counter-demonstrators.

12:15am, July 20th: The police try to get us out. People are throwing stones at us. Again, not many, but they're coming from all sides, including the buildings we're passing by. Police run into building entrances, pushing back those trying to attack us. They're barely successful.

I hear shouts and run toward them. I see one of our people on the ground, bleeding from his head. Police try to push us forward. A couple of us tell them, trying to be calm, that we have someone injured. A policeman says “fine, leave him there”. We do nothing of the sort. We pick him up. He's ok, somehow. Adrenaline, I suppose.

12:30am: We're still half walking, half running down the street, surrounded by police. It's a bit calmer, but the counter-demonstrators (perhaps, by now, rioters) are still not far behind us. We find ourselves at a traffic circle. Two police commanders are arguing about what to do. All we want is to get a bus. They keep changing up where they want the bus to be. I overhear one commander telling the other that there are another hundred rightists coming down the street. They do not know what to do. They order us further down the hill.

12:35am: The sidewalk ends on our side. Police tell us to get into the shadows. I hear one of them ordering a bus sent to us, empty, as fast as possible. Nothing happens, everyone is exhausted. They seem to holding back the counter-demonstrators up the street.

12:45am: A public bus is passing by with around six people aboard. Police stop the bus, tell everyone on it to leave, and shout at us to get on. We can't believe this: the police have literally commandeered a bus. It takes a while, but we all get on. Eighty people packed like sardines onto a bus that holds fifty. The bus moves up the hill to turn around. As it does, it's hit with a rock thrown at it.

12:50am: We start singing. People sing and laugh as the adrenaline starts to decline. We feel safe, for the first time in hours.

1am: As we head toward the shore, where another bus is waiting for us, a car covered with an Israeli flag pulls up. The driver shouts and gestures at us. This is our first hint that it's not over yet. Some still feel safe enough to flash V for victory signs at him.

1:05am: We pull into the parking lot behind the beach restaurant, Maxim. We get off the bus. We wonder where the next bus will take us. One of the organizers tells us to get on, and we'll sort that out later. The water cannon truck pulls in behind us, with a number of police vans.

1:15am: We're on the bus, and we're moving out of the parking lot. The police accompaniment leaves. We're alone. Suddenly, we hear two or three rocks hitting the bus. Two windows are shattered. We push the broken glass out onto the street to avoid the pieces flying in due to wind and hitting passengers. The broken windows make the bus windy, full of fresh air. We're tense, but we're safe.

1:20am: The bus pulls up near the Haifa headquarters of the Hadash party, one of the main organizers. As we disembark, we take photos of the youth making victory signs out the broken windows. We're safe.

1:30am: We go to headquarters to debrief, post reports, and decide on next steps. At some point later, my partner and I go get some food and drinks for ourselves and our friends.

2:30am: We head to the police station to wait for the eight arrested to be released. A somewhat surreal scene occurs when we encounter a demonstrator from the other side, doing the same. No tempers flare.

4:30am: After two hours of waiting, talking, trying to understand what happened and why, our prisoners are released unconditionally. We applaud.

We go home. We sleep.

We were lucky: one stone an inch to one side or another, and someone would have died. Quite a few people were injured. One broken nose; one shattered shoulder. One demonstrator hit in the head by police. Who knows what else?

We live to fight another day. 

---

Gush Shalom Courageously Sponsors Petition "Soldiers, refuse to bomb Gaza, and refuse to enter Gaza!"

Click on the link to add your signature:

http://www.atzuma.co.il/notogaza

Soldiers, refuse to bomb Gaza, and refuse to enter Gaza!

A few days ago, four youths who were playing on the beach in Gaza were killed by IDF fire, in sight of the international media. In the first hours of the ground invasion of Gaza a 5-month-old baby was killed by an Israeli tank firing at his home. War in the Gaza Strip, one of the world’s most crowded areas, necessarily leads to the killing of civilians, the killing of children.

Soldiers, if you enter Gaza, or if you bomb Gaza, you may well leave as war criminals, with the blood of children on your hands.

They tell you that you are being deployed to defend the citizens of Israel. That’s not true. You are being deployed to participate in a doomed “campaign” that won’t solve any problems but will only be a prelude to the next campaign and the one after that. Without solving the basic problems – first and foremost ending the suffocating blockade of millions of Gaza residents – all the Gaza “campaigns” will amount to pointless bloodshed, a massive war crime, causing much damage and no benefit.

Many Israeli citizens, among them the Shministim group, New Profile and Yesh Gvul, will gladly support you if you say no to this war of choice and to war crimes!

Soldiers