In 1999 I was in the 9^th grade, when one of my teachers, who knew I was interested in politics and the occupation, asked me to join a new Israeli-Jordanian-Palestinian project called "The NIR School". I thought it would be quite an interesting experience to go school with Palestinians, so I agreed. This is how I found myself, in the summer of 99', on a two-week long cardiology seminar, with 60 youths from Israel, Jordan and the West Bank, living in youth-hostels in Israel and Jordan. We didn't really talk about current affairs. We were all good friends, and we got to know each other through study-groups, social activities, music lessons etc. Rarely one of the Palestinian members would share a check-point story, but mostly it just didn't come-up. This is experience was most important for me; the first time I got to meet Palestinians. I'll get back to this story later on.

It was around that time that I joined the "Open Doors" project with my mother. We exchanged letters with a Palestinian administrative-detainee called Usama Barham, who had been sitting in jail for years without a trial. I used to tell him about my life, and he would write about his past, his future plans, and about life in prison. He used to tell me about the world as he would have it, a world where Jews and Palestinians could live in peace - and where he and I would be able to meet. We corresponded for a long time, as new detention warrants kept coming out every six months, prolonging his detention in what seemed to last forever. As Usama's case reached the high-court (no Palestinian was put in administrative detention for so long as he - six years in the Israeli jail without a trial) - he was suddenly released, "under condition" that he signed a declaration, stating he would not take part in any terrorist activity. I can testify that he would have signed the same declaration years before. Usama always used to tell me: "They say 'you're with the Jihad', I say I'm not, they say I am, I say I'm not…" We came to visit Usama in his home during a feast that was held in light of his release. This was my first time in the occupied territories, my first time in a Palestinian village. I saw bullet-holes in the family's house, and some smashed furniture. Usama's nephews spoke to me in Arabic, and all I could make out was: "Yahud, Yahud" - I gathered they were referring to IDF soldiers. I was amazed to see such a different world, just 20 minutes from my home.
Usama was excited to show us a piece of land where he was planning to build a home. Looking back, I can only imagine what an amazing moment it must have been for him - getting out of jail at 30, and starting a life.
I must stress that Usama is not the only Palestinian who has had such an "experience", nor is he a member of any "exclusive club". We're talking about hundreds, maybe thousands, who have sat in the Israeli prisons for months, and even years, without being tried, without knowing how long they would have to stay in jail for, and without even knowing what it is they're being accused of. This is a feeling I can identify with, now more than ever before, for only recently I myself have spent months on-end in prison, as the "disciplinary proceedings" were used against me like the "administrative detention" warrants used against Usama. Knowing that the date of your release can arbitrarily be postponed by months is not that great a feeling.

My next visit to the Occupied Territories was to the Salfit area in the West Bank, with the "Gush Shalom" movement. We came to meet a man who was unfortunate enough to have his lands "on the wrong side of the tracks" - they were inside the C zone (under full Israeli control), ending just a few meters from the B zone (the Palestinian-authority's jurisdiction). After having failed to gain a building-license from Israeli authorities, the land-owner had to build his house without a permit. The IDF came and demolished the house. The owner rebuilt, and the IDF re-demolished. We came there to help build the house the third time. A few months later I was to hear that this house too has been demolished… Thousands of houses have been destroyed in the occupied territories since 1967 under the claim that they were built "illegally".
Later on that day we got to a demolished quarry not too far away from the newly-rebuilt house. The owner told us that for years he used to make bricks for some of the near-by Jewish settlements. Until one day, several "Shabac" (secret services) agents came and asked him to confirm that a certain individual in his village was a Hammas militant. He knew that the person in question was not a militant, and refused to cooperate. Three days later the bulldozers came and took down the quarry. In a report on administrative detainees "B'Tselem" (a human's rights NGO, working in the occupied territories) mentions that: "The Shabac is known to threaten Palestinians in an investigation that they be prosecuted unless they provide intelligence against other people. Crowning these information sources "confidential" deprives a detainee the opportunity to prove the tipper was working out of personal-interest, giving false information." And also that: "[The military court's] relying on confidential sources suggests that the judicial system has absolute trust in the Shabac. It seems this trust was not lessened, even after a long series of cases was uncovered, in which Shabac agents deceived and even lied to judges. Shabac-perjuries lead to a public inquiry board (the Landoy Committee, 1987). The committee's report described how Shabac agents used to lie in court, in order to prevent the disqualifying of evidence taken illegally".
This is how, again, I learnt how easily and arbitrarily a man like Usama can be sent to jail, or another man's life can be bulldozed down…

And then the Intifada broke out. I started talking to my NIR School friends on the phone and on the net, and eventually in a special re-union the staff got together for us. In the summer of 2000 there was also a wonderful re-union. Everybody was there. Sari, my good friend from Ramalla, and I put on a show with a song we wrote about the group. There were almost no more differences between the representatives of different nations. When the joyful 2000 re-union came to an end, we were all in tears. And there we were, after the Intifada broke out, with almost all of the Israelis, but only 6 of 20 Palestinians, who came in spite of heavy objection on the side of their friends. We felt torn-apart and separated. Nu'ha from Beit-Jalla cried when talking about the shelling of her neighborhood, Muhanad from Tul-Karrem spoke of three days of detention in very harsh terms, and Sari told us of his friends who were shot dead during a demonstration. "B'Tselem" observers watched the demonstrations in the Al-Bira neighborhood, near Sari's house, and reported thus: "Use of live ammunition was made even in cases where there was no risk to the soldiers' lives. The shooting was aimed at the demonstrators, most of them children, who were throwing stones and burning tires… In all incidents Palestinian fire started only after the demonstration has been going on for more than an hour, and the soldiers have already used rubber-bullets and live ammunition. Surprisingly, it was only after Palestinians fired that the soldiers held their fire and did not respond… In the days B'Tselem witnesses watched demonstrations at "Ayosh" junction, two Palestinians were killed. Both were shot when there was no danger to the soldiers' lives, and before any fire was shot from the Palestinian side." I just wish to point out that one of those two Palestinians was my friend Sari's friend.
"B'Tselem" was told by the military prosecution that: "For the time being, as opposed to the time of the [last] Intifada, the IDF is not investigating any of the deaths or injuries of Palestinians in the territories". And at the same time the IDF spokesman said that: "All use of live ammunition by IDF soldiers is an exact response to threats on human life". And also that: "Any bullet shot IDF soldiers was shot when under life threat. Fire was aimed directly at Palestinians threatening human life". "B'Tselem claims that: "Such statements cannot be made, let alone accepted, so long as no investigation has been launched regarding each and every case." Their conclusion, which I have no choice but to concur, is that: "the message sent to ground units is that inquiries will not be launched, even if they do not act in accordance to regulations."

"Ta'ayush - the Arab-Jewish Partnership" was founded following the "October Incidents", during which Israeli police shot 13 Arab-Israeli citizens dead. Ta'ayush (in Arabic - "living together") started working for Arab-Jewish solidarity within Israel itself, as well as in the occupied territories.
I joined Ta'ayush in their third convoy to the Salfit area. We brought food to the besieged village of Yassuf. We marched through the village together, as Palestinians and Jews, Israeli citizens and non-citizens. We were doing quite well unloading the trucks to the village's food deposits. Everything was fine, until five Boarder-Police command-cars stormed in. The soldiers mounted the trucks, stepped on the food, and hit the activists, as CNN cameras were documenting the whole scene. When eventually we left the village, several activists were arrested, and later released. That night, Jewish settlers from the near by settlement of Tapuach stormed the village, burnt cars and shot at houses. This was "pay-back" for the village's cooperation with us. No one stopped them, and no arrests were made.

A few convoys later, we got to the village of Burkin. We found a newly placed mount of earth that did not allow movement of trucks about a mile from the main entrance to the village. We had to put the food in our private cars, and then move on to the village. A few weeks prior to this, the village of Burkin gained attention in a special report on the water crisis in the West Bank in the daily paper "Yediyot". Burkin has no running water. A fifth of the West-Bank population did not have running water, after 28 years of Israeli control. The civil administration spokesman was interviewed by the paper regarding the village of Burkin.
Spokesman: "We could not find a good source for water in that area".
Yediyot: "Then how did you find a source for the newly-built near-by settlement of Brukin?"
Spokesman: "Apparently, the source isn't sufficient for both villages."
Yediot: "So you give the water to a few remote caravans, and not to a village of thousands?"
Spokesman: "That's our answer."
(At the time, there where 2260 residents in the Palestinian Burkin, and less than a hundred in the Jewish Brukin…)

There are still 218 villages in the West Bank, with 200,000 residents in them, that don't have running water. Many of the villages, like Burkin, have water tanks coming to the village regularly - but mounts of earth put on the roads by the IDF, like the one I saw in Burkin, stop them from getting into the village. The IDF claims to allow access for humanitarian aid, but at unmanned barricades as these - this is not an option. From testimonies taken by "B'Tselem" I understand that things in manned checkpoints aren't that much better. In one of the testimonies, a water-tank driver talks about a time when he was stopped by soldiers at a checkpoint: "Finally, after a long argument… they allowed us to go on. One of the soldiers opened the tap, before ordering us to go leave at once. We started driving towards the village, as the water was pouring out…" The IDF spokesman replied that: "This is a case of routine check-ups… for the defense and security of the village." I wonder what village they're referring to - The Palestinian village of Al-Mejaz, which needed the water, or the near-by settlement…? Another driver tells a similar story: "I told the soldier I needed to get water to the people and the animals in the village. He said 'The hell with them, you can't take this road'… Later they opened the faucet and started splashing water at me…"

I saw more barricades of this sort around Beit-Umar and Beit-Jalla, where I saw a helpless ambulance stuck in front of this mount of earth and stone. At the Kalandia checkpoint, near Ramalla, I saw an ambulance in the endless line of cars, waiting to be checked by the soldiers. Even if it was allowed through eventually, it would have been at least half an hour for it to get through that one Km. According to reports from various HR organizations, at least 75 Palestinians died as a result of prevented medical care, from October 2000 till today. The "B'Tselem" report on the issue from June 2001 concludes that: "Israel's siege policy inevitably causes damage to the civilian population; delaying ill and wounded people on their way to receive aid is just one aspect… of this damage." One of the many evidences in the report tells the story of a man who drove a sick child and his father to the hospital. After having left the Khan-Yunnes Refugee-Camp (in the Gaza Strip) at 18:00, they were stopped at the Tufach checkpoint: "One of the soldiers called at us and told us to go back. We said we needed to get to a hospital, and again he told us to go back. We got out of the car, carrying Kifah [the child] on our hands in order to show him to the soldiers. They told us we have to go back, and we told them the boy could die. The soldier said: 'I'll kill you too if you stay', and we heard him cock his gun." They got back to the checkpoint before, where they sat until 20:30 - two and a half hours - waiting for help. "Kifah was lying on the ground, his head in his father's lap. Kifah closed his eyes and stopped moving. He kept breathing, but could not speak." Kifah died at the hospital.

One of the harshest, yet quite interesting experiences I had in the West Bank took place in the South of Mount Hebron. In spite of countless high-court resolutions against IDF attacks on rural communities living near the Palestinian town of Yata, the civil-administration and the IDF kept coming to that area, destroying houses and caves of about 1,000 Palestinian residents.
Going through the barren lands of Mount-Hebron, there is nothing that stands out more in the sand, than the few Jewish settlements: Atni'el, Beit-Haggai, and especially Sussya. I remember the first time I saw Jewish Sussya; its houses white, its roofs red, its lawns so green and its blue-and-white community centre, all standing proudly, overlooking the ruins of the caves between the settlement and Yata. Sussya has an access road; the caves-area does not. This is where I went with Ta'ayush on one of the convoys.
The sight of the demolished caves was quite shocking, but worse than that was the sight of a water depositary - destroyed by the IDF. The sight of a caved-in water-depositary in the middle of the desert is something I shall never forget. We tried to rehabilitate the depositaries, but the damage caused by stones and dirt, shoved in by soldiers, was irreversible. "B'Tselem" wrote about South Hebron-Mount in one of their reports: "In addition to the tearing down of tents, fences and baking-ovens, IDF and civil-administration men poured sand and stones into six wells, carved in the rock. These wells were used by the inhabitants to collect rainwater in the winter, and water they bought in Yata in the summer, both for private and agricultural use. As a result of the mixture between dirt and water, all the water that was in the depositaries was made inappropriate for use. The international humanitarian law forbids any attack on infrastructure vital for the survival of the civilian population, no matter the circumstances. In addition, it is strictly forbidden to attack facilities used for drinking-water and water for irrigation."
A special report made by Ta'ayush, "The Centre for Alternative Information", "Rabbis for Human Rights" and "The Committee Against House Demolitions" about South Hebron-Mount mentions the convoy in which I took part: "Due to the severe lack of water, two water tanks were brought along, and their contents were irrigated to one of the surviving depositor… the night after that, the IDF started another expulsion crusade… the newly-refilled water depositary was one of many targets of destruction…".

I spoke to a man whose family's home, a cave in the rock, has been destroyed, caved-in. He told me that in the days after the demolitions, the inhabitants used to sleep outside, under the night skies. The soldiers would come every night, and shoot stun-grenades at the families, in order to scare them off. One night a group of soldiers came and captured the man's ten years old child. They made him take his shows off, and run bare-foot in a thorny-field. Before leaving, the soldiers told the family they must leave, and move to Yata.

The second time we got there, we were stopped by a military road-block near the settlement of Sussya. We were told the entire are was under a "restricted military zone" warrant, and Israeli citizens cannot go in. Yet, we noticed a lively movement of Jewish settlers, coming in and out of the settlement. Thus, we concluded, we were facing a selectively restricted military zone: Free movement for settlers, restricted access as far as peace activists are concerned. In a letter by Captain Ravit Nagar from the IDF Southern Command, 11.12.01, she admits the warrant was produced "in light of a planned demonstration of support and restoration" by Ta'ayush. A similar event is described in a "B'Tselem" report about the olive-harvest. A villager from Einabus (a village near Nablus) talks about settlers who came to disrupt the harvest. IDF forces came, accompanied by Israeli police: 'The police told us to retreat a few tree-rows back, and promised we would be able to continue the harvest later. Then the military commander showed up, declaring the field is now a "restricted military zone" and that the harvest cannot continue that day. We were sent back to the village, as the settlers stayed in the field." It seems to me inevitable to conclude from this reoccurrence that this is an IDF policy: Restricting or preventing freedom of movement from Palestinians and Israeli peace activists, while giving the settlers a free hand in their illegal attacks.

Before I get to my next point, I wish to add a few words on the history of the Palestinian settlement in South Hebron-Mount, dating back to the 1830s, and about the reasons for the army's harsh treatment towards these inhabitants.
I quote from the organizations' special report: "During the 1970s, warrants were issued by army-officers, proclaiming extensive parts of the South Hebron-Mount "restricted military zones". Since then, these warrants were renewed time after time… The reason given for this was "security needs", as well as the transforming of that land to training-grounds for IDF units. However, the IDF did not once use these lands for training." As far as I'm concerned, it doesn't seem very reasonable to transform the home of thousands to training-grounds. In fact, it seems quite obvious that this is not what this is all about. Even the former head of the IDF Central Command, the present Chief of Staffs, Moshe Ya'alon, admitted so much in a meeting with several Israeli authors, on February 15^th, 2002. David Grossman, who was in the meeting, says: "He told the authors that Israel is now facing the final peace agreements and the settling of the future boarders, and there's a clear Israeli interest that this region remains in Israeli hands." It is also important to point out that while mass-expulsions are still under-way, Jewish farms and settlements in the region keep growing. The Chief of Staff's statement and the settlement policy lead me to the inevitable conclusion that Israel's attempt is to create an "Arab-free" "security belt". Can anyone prove me otherwise?

I wish to make a diversion from the main topic, the IDF in the occupied territories, and take to another important subject.
In the summer of 2001 and the summer of 2002 I took part in Ta'ayush "work-camps" in unrecognized villages of Israeli Arabs, within the Green Line. The first camp was in the village of Dar El-Hannun in Vadi Arra. Dar El-Hannun was founded in 1925, and has yet to receive recognition from the state. There is no dispute that the lands on which it is built are legally owned by the inhabitants, but for some reason or another they are considered by the State to be "agricultural lands" - on which any construction is forbidden. This puts the village in an impossible state of affairs; they are Israeli citizens, who are denied water, electricity, a sewer system, an access road and all other State-provided services - but they still have to pay their taxes, including city taxes! They have one power-generator for the entire village, and get most their needs from supporting neighboring villages. In the camp, we were Arabs and Jews together, working for three days on a new access road (which the authorities are still putting a lot of legal effort into trying to destroy), putting up a new play-ground for kids, and clearing a dump-site that was disturbing the lives of the villagers.
A year later we worked in the village of Ein-Khud, where things are doing a bit better.
I will return to these stories later on, to explain the link between these and my refusal.

Another important activity I took part in within Israel is the demonstration against the new Cross-Israel Road, which took place in the village of Tirra. After negotiations between the "Cross-Israel Road Company" and the owners of the agricultural lands of Tirra failed, the company's bulldozers showed up one day on the citizens' lands, backed by about 40 Boarder-Police soldiers. Following violent confrontations that broke-out between landowners and the soldiers, Ta'ayush came to the scene. When we got there, all was quiet. The bulldozers were working, guarded by the soldiers, who kept the landowners, their friends and us away from the working machines. We were sitting there on the ground for about two hours, when the confrontations broke-out again. The soldiers' violence was completely unproportional to what was happening there. I witnessed at least one case in which an Arab demonstrator fell to the ground, begging for mercy, and the soldiers kept on hitting and kicking him. I myself got hit too, especially when trying to take pictures, and when trying to separate between soldiers and Arab demonstrators - the ones they were really after.

I never go to the occupied territories unless it is on a peace-mission. This includes the Eastern part of Jerusalem. I crossed the invisible line between Western and Eastern Jerusalem only five times. The first was in a "religions tour" with the NIR School. The next three were with Ta'ayush, and I'll come back to the last one later on.
The three times with Ta'ayush were in the neighborhood of Issawiya, adjacent to the Mount Scopus campus of the Hebrew University. The first and second times were solidarity visits, during which we visited citizens' whose homes have been demolished by the IDF, again under the claim they were built without a permit. On the opposite hill there was a settlement (I think it was Ma'alle Edomim) in full bloom of construction. The third time we got there, we found a newly laid barricade, made of stone and dirt, on the only road connecting Issawiya to the University, and from there - to the rest of Jerusalem. Policemen and Boarder-Police soldiers who were at the scene explained that this road was used by terrorists who got to Jerusalem from Ramalla. This excuse seems more of an insult to intelligence every time I think of it. Supposing a terrorist got to Tel-Aviv from Ramalla, using one Israel's main roads - the Jerusalem - Tel-Aviv road, would that road be barricaded then? And if the Issawiya road was really the road he took - why put the barricade where they did, and not on the other side of Issawiya (between Issawiya and Ramalla), or after the university?! It's the same road! The answer, however, is quite clear…
The new barricade created an impossible situation for the inhabitants, who would now have to go on a few-hours' ride through Ramalla and the check-points between Ramalla and Jerusalem, instead of a minute'drive through their main road. If you think of all the people who have jobs in the City, or of the need to bring in supplies daily, you can only imagine how intolerable life can become… We tried dismantling the barricade, but the soldiers attacked us. Once again, this attack was of completely no proportion to the "crime" we were carrying out.

I spent last April abroad, mostly with my family. As operation "Defensive Shield" started, we sat and watched the CNN in our hotel in Paris for a week, trying to put together what exactly was going on back home. Once I got back to Israel, I started reading updates through e-mail, press reports etc. As there was no way of getting inside the West Bank, I base all I know of this period on several reports, from which I shall now quote some stories and data. I find it important to point out that this is just a fragment of what I've read and heard, which by itself is just nothing compared to all the gathered evidences. And that too, in its turn, is just a small particle of the horror that took over the West Bank for weeks.

I quote a soldier talking to "B'Tselem" on "Defensive Shield": "When I was in Ramalla, I learnt of a procedure called "Pressure Cooker". Three tanks shell a building for a whole night, because they think there are wanted terrorists in there. This makes sense when it is used against army compounds, not civilian buildings…" And he adds: "At least one regiment-commander would shoot at people peeping from the roof-tops during curfew… We didn't have to account for anything." In the same report, another soldier talks of the curfew: "Everyone was talking about how the curfew was a means of punishment, meant to hurt the population so they'd know Arafat was a bad leader. This includes regiment-commander briefings."
In a separate report on the curfew, "B'Tselem" quotes the IDF spokesman on orders regarding the implementation of the curfew: "Force will be used only against persons violating the curfew in spite of their knowing and understanding of curfew-rules, or in order to complete an arrest…" And "B'Tselem" clarifies: "It seems that soldiers are allowed to shoot at people just because they happen to be outside of their homes at a time of curfew."

Health services throughout the West Bank have been completely paralyzed during the entire operation. Ha'aretz journalist Amira Hass published a collection of phone calls she received from the fighting zone of Jenin. A nurse in Jenin hospital, about 200m from the refugee camp, reported on 6.4: "People keep calling us, crying, asking us to come and get them. They're only a few hundreds of meters away from us, some with hands, legs and head injuries, and we can't help them. They say there are dead and wounded people lying the in the streets, we don't know how many. There's no electricity, and we're working on a power-generator until the fuel runs out. Food is almost out. We don't have enough medicine. We must save water. The oxygen department was hit by a missile, so we don't have enough oxygen."
A soldier who served in Jenin told "B'Tselem" that: "Ambulances were allowed to go only to the city, not to the refugee camp… If there was a Palestinian wounded in the camp, there was no way of helping him - Palestinians inside the camp weren't allowed outside their homes, and outside ambulances weren't allowed in. The IDF started evacuating people… about a week later. Orders were to shoot ambulances that skipped the checkpoint with our machine-gun. These orders came from the deputy regiment-commander."
Sliman, a doctor in Ramalla hospital, told "Kan" (of the Independent Media Group) that: "The hospital's administration had to burry 19 victims in a mass-grave, as the army forbade the hospital to give the bodies to the families. There is no room in the refrigerators. In Nablus today they had to put the dead in ice-cream coolers."
An American activist who was in Nablus said: "There is complete destruction in Nablus. Houses, buildings, shops and cars are destroyed. Ambulance-drivers say the wounded and the dead are lying in the streets. One body was eaten by a dog."

Other reports touch the issue of "human shields". Sergeant Nati Aharoni told BaMachanne (the IDF soldiers' newspaper) on 12.4: "We have already taken this building before, so we were afraid they'll have an explosive-charge waiting when we got there the second time. As custom has it, we took one of the Palestinian neighbors to sweep the place. He opened all the doors and closets and didn't find anything. We shook his hand and thanked him, and went inside."
A soldier talking to "B'Tselem" spoke of this "neighbor drill": "Before the search we used to go to a neighbor, take him out of his house, and send him to get someone from the house we wanted… If they were planning something - he'd get it, not us… If no-one answers, we tell the neighbor we're going to kill him if no-one comes out… briefings on this came from our platoon-leader… orders came from the level of the regiment, or higher than that."

The horrors of "Defensive Shield" include looting of private property, extensive arrests and humiliating treatment at "Ofer" detainee-camp, harsh treatment of demonstrators etc. But the single most horrifying event, which will forever be remembered in the chronicles of this region, is the fighting in Jenin. Even if reports of a "massacre" were false and deceiving, the horror is still a terrible one. A soldier who spoke to "B'Tselem" put it well: "They qualified the [refugee] camp to be a golf-field. It went on after the fighting - about a day and a half after the moment when not a single shot could be heard." But in this context, the best source would have to be the single most mainstream media source: Yediot Aharonot. In an interview with "Dubi Kurdi" - "the most devastative D9-bulldozer operator in Jenin", as the paper dubbed him: "I didn't mind taking down their houses, as it saved our soldiers' lives… I didn't feel sorry for anyone. I'd take anyone out with my D9. I told them [the officers] so… I built me there a football stadium… I wanted to take down everything. I'd beg the officers on the radio to let me take it down from start to bottom… No one refused the order to demolish houses. There's no such thing. When they told me to take down a house, I'd use the opportunity to take down a few others on the way… They warned them in the loudspeakers that I was coming. But I didn't give anyone a chance. I didn't give one small push, waiting for them to come out. I'd give the house a strong blow right from the start, so it'd go down fast… There were many people in the houses we started to tare-down… but I didn't see anyone die under my [D9] spoon, and I didn't see live people that the house was falling down on. But if there were, it doesn't change a thing as far as I'm concerned… If there's one thing I'm sorry about it's that we didn't take down the whole camp."
And this is how it sounds from the other side. One of the camp's residents tells "Kan": "The Israeli bulldozers opened a way for the army in the middle of the base. They took down about 200 houses. I think they weren't checking whether there are any people inside, and people kept running from house to house, till they got to the one I was in… I hid in the staircase with seven kids, seven girls, and six men… I asked for medical assistance but the soldiers refused."
On Tuesday, April 9^th, Amira Has got a phone call from UNICEF, at around 13:00: "About one hundred children, camp residents, are roaming the streets of Jenin and calling out for their parents."
And now I'm on trial.

In light of the choice made by the Israeli government and the IDF, I must stress that there is another way - and I've seen the IDF try to silence it down. When in Ramalla, I took part in a non-violent joint demonstration of Ramalla residents and Jews and Arabs from Israel. With no provocation but our unity, soldiers started firing tear-gas and stun-grenades at us. In the last days of "Defensive Shield" 2,000 Ta'ayush demonstrators marched towards the Salem checkpoint, near Jenin, with 31 trucks filled with necessary supplies. The IDF prevented us froproceeding, and allowed only 5 of the trucks to enter the city of Jenin. In the days of the long curfew on Nablus the IDF forcibly stopped activists from getting to inside the city. In Beit-Lehem there was a joint demonstration by all political parties in the West Bank, Hammas included, for equality for both nations, and an end to bloodshed. The leaders of Hammas in the city ordered a cease-fire. About 400 Israeli activists came to join in on this wonderful occasion, but were stopped in the entrance to the city. Again, IDF soldiers hit them and used water canons against them. The day after that, Israel assassinated one of Hammas' leaders, and Hammas said that because of this and of the prevention of the joint Israeli-Palestinian demonstration, the cease-fire is off. These are just four attempts of non-violent cooperation in which I took part, which were foiled by the IDF. People can say that what I've seen is no more than a few anomalies. I've heard the claim that Israel's army is "the most moral army in the world", and that the IDF has an "Ethical Code". But for me, in the face of so much evil, orders or "moral codes" mean nothing. Only the day-to-day reality makes a difference, and operation "Defensive Shield" is reality.

It would be unjust to take this stand, without even mentioning the Gaza Strip. I don't know much of the Gaza Strip, as Israelis cannot go there (unless their either settlers or soldiers). I know that there are about 6,000 settlers there, and a population of about 1.5 million Palestinians. Everything else I know is from different reports I heard.
While Israel was launching an operation of destruction in Rafah last year, Ta'ayush raised funds to support the new homeless refugees. According to "B'Tselem", between October 2000 and February 2002 the IDF demolished 655 houses in the Strip's refugee camps, formally home to 5,124 people, and about 13,500 dunams of agricultural land, a seventh of all agricultural land in the Gaza Strip, were corrupted. The army says it's nothing more than "security means", but several pieces of evidence, especially those of IDF high-ranking officers, show a different picture.
"B'Tselem": "Destroying crops, corrupting agricultural lands and uprooting entire fruit-groves are carried out under the claim that Palestinians hiding in them shot at soldiers and settlers. In some cases IDF forces uprooted tomato and zucchini fields, in which one cannot take cover…"
Rami Kaplan, a deputy-regiment-commander in the reserve forces, and now a refusenik, told Ha'aretz that: "[When in Gaza] being the best meant to uproot the most groves and fields, necessary or not… Once we heard a rumor that the PM was considering to send down an order, saying that from now on only the tops of the trees are to be cut down. The regiment's response was to start working over-time, to take down the most, before they stop us…"
Dov Tsadka, head of the Israeli civil-administration, told BaMachanne that the army over-worked on the uprooting: "They tore-down hundreds of acres of strawberry and green-houses, and I think that's unfair… Sometimes I would authorize a certain scale of "clearing", but once I got there I would find the soldiers a bit hyperactive… You allow them to uproot 30 trees, and then you get there and find they uprooted 60."
The most important of all these evidences, is that of former Chief of the Southern Command - Yom Tov Samia. In an interview on Israeli radio, later transcribed in Ha'aretz he said the following: "The IDF should raze-down all the houses in a strip of 300-400m from the [Egyptian] boarder… No matter what the final [peace] agreement will be, this will be the boarder with Egypt…" He then explains that as a long-term policy, Israel should use any incident on the boarder as "an excuse" to take down another 3-4 rows of houses. Since then, that strip has indeed been "razed". In it, were between 350 and 500 inhabited houses.

In the days when I was writing the first draft to this testimony a story appeared in Ha'ir magazine about Rachel Corry, a young American activist who was trampled to death by an Israeli bulldozer in Rafah, while protecting a Palestinian house. Whenever I think if Rafah, I think of Rachel. I wish to quote a special piece from an e-mail she sent her mother a few days before she was murdered, as brought by the paper: "Today I walked on the gravel that was left where there once were houses. Egyptian soldiers on the other side of the boarded shouted at me: 'Go…! Go…!' as an Israeli tank approached. 'What's you're name?' they kept on waving. There's something uncomfortable about their friendly curiosity. It reminded me how we're all still children, somehow. Curios children watching a strange child in the way of a tank. Palestinian children shot when peeping from behind a wall. International children standing in tanks' ways with signs. Israeli children in tanks, shouting and waving their hands - many are here against their will, many are aggressive, shooting into houses as they leave."
As Rachel said, we're all just children. I saw it in prison, and I can see it in the base I'm detained at now. As an Israeli child, I refuse to enlist to an army that destroys Palestinian children's houses, and tramples over International children on the way…

As I draw near to the end of this testimony, I wish to return to stories of a more personal nature. In September 2002, a month prior to my first incarceration, I received a copy of a touching letter the children of Nablus sent the UN Secretary. I quote a piece of that letter: "We, the children of Nablus, turn to you regarding the collective detention of our people in their homes. For the past three months, the curfew imposed on Nablus was lifted for no more than 70 hours. Three weeks ago, we were excitingly expecting the opening of the new school year, due to open on the 27^th of August. But we have been deprived our right to education… We want to open the schools. We want to feel safe when we go to school. We want to learn and play with no fear."

For me, this was a small taste of what the curfew means for 130,000 people. Another such example I received about two weeks later. I got a phone call from "Windows", an Arab-Jewish NGO. They told me of a Palestinian family in a Tel-Aviv hospital. They were looking for a way to get back to Tul-Karem. I volunteered, picked them up at the hospital, and drove them off to the Tul-Karem checkpoint. "Windows" coordinated their return to the city. Now, I don't know much Arabic, and they didn't speak too much Hebrew, but we managed to communicate in half-English half-Hebrew. They were a young couple, with a six-year-old boy and a two-year-old with epilepsy. The little one would need a long series of treatments, and they were afraid they won't be able to get out of Tul-Karem again in order to get to the hospital. Their feeling of fear and helplessness was overwhelming. I can't imagine such a life of complete uncertainty. I saw the child's need to be reassured by his parents, to hear them say that everything is going to be all right. What could it possibly mean for someone that young to see his own parents shaking in fear at the sight of two 19 years old soldiers?
I left the family after they crossed the checkpoint towards the city. I don't know what happened to them since.

I was first incarcerated on 23.10.02. On 20.10.02, three days before that, I read the following story in Ha'aretz: "Last night, the last six families - about 40 people - have left the village of Yannun, close to the settlement of Itamar. According to village residents, they have decided to leave the village following an endless line of harassments on the side of Itamar settlers… "Evidence given by one of the villagers goes as follows: 'When the olive-harvest season started, Itamar settlers started shooting in the air and towards village-houses. Gradually, raids became more frequent, with settlers coming late at night, braking windows and shooting into our houses… Harassments came to a peak as Itamar residents turned their drainage to flow towards the village… Last Thursday they had another raid, which the power-generator that was used by the families was destroyed.'"

That night I got a call from Ta'ayush. I was told that the following morning activists would be leaving to Yannun in order to secure the villagers' return, and protect them from the settlers. I agreed to come along. By 9:00 the following morning, I was already on the dirt road leading to Yannun, with four other activists.

I don't know how to describe Yannun as it looked on the 21^st of October 2002. I can only share a few dry details: A power-generator room, broken into and burnt. Three huge black water-tanks, the village's water source, upside-down, their contents spilled. Countless bullet-holes in the village's houses, their windows broken. But worse than these was the complete silence. An entire village - still, dead. Doors shut, and not a soul in sight. And even worse still were the signs of a recently lively community. Laundry cords, a cola bottle - half empty, etc. Touring the olive-groves, we saw two caravans on neighboring hills, and another structure, which I later learned was a chicken-coop. These were the extensions of the otherwise quite remote settlement of Itamar. I remember being speechless about the whole thing even then. We found a cat, and I suggested we call her "Galut" (meaning "exile"). The others felt I was too pessimistic, so we decided to call her "Shiva" ("a return").

I'd like to bring an extract from "Hirbet Hiz'e" by the Israeli author S. Yizhar, which discusses a soldier's experiences in the war of 1948:
"And then, like a stroke of lightning, it all became clear. Everything seemed to sound differently, more precise: - Exile. This here's exile. This is exile. This is what exile looks like.
I couldn't stay standing there. My place could no longer hold me. I got out and went to the other end. Those blind men were sitting there. I moved from them in a hurry. […] I was never in exile - I said to myself - I never knew what it would be like… But they talked to me, and told me, and taught, and repeated it again and again, everywhere I went; in books and newspapers and everywhere: Exile. They played it on my soul. Our people's challenge on the entire world: Exile! And it was probably even in my mother's milk. What exactly have we done here today? There was nowhere to go and nowhere to hide. I mingled among them like someone looking for something. Things were ringing in my ears; I don't know where they came from. I went through them all; those crying aloud, and those holding it in, fearing for their lives and property. Those fighting their fate, and those bowing their heads to it. Those who despise themselves and their shame, and those who are already making their plans for tomorrow. Those crying for abandoned fields, and those too tired, hungry and afraid to speak. I wished to find a Jeremiah amongst them, forging flames of anger in his heart, silently calling the ancient God from his wagons of exile…
"I tried to understand the meaning of these shivers in me, and where from does this echo, this echo of foot-steps, doth rise to my ears. The echo of another exiled people's steps: faint, far-off, legendary in a way, yet gloomy, straight, roles like thunder, threatening and remote. - I cannot take it…
"I ran into Moishe.
- 'What do you look at me like that for?' Said Moishe.
- 'This is a dirty war, this is' I choked.
- 'Forget about it,' said he, 'what would you rather have? What do you want?'
"And I wanted it so bad. And I had something to say. But I couldn't say anything that would make practical-sense and not just reflect some sentimental excitement. I need to shock him. I need to make it clear how serious this is. But instead Moishe told me, while straightening his hat like someone deep in thought, and going through his pockets for cigarettes and a light, trying to put a newly-formed idea into words, he answered me thus: 'Listen what I have to tell you,' said Moishe, his eyes in search of mine, 'This Hirbey-what's-it will be settled by new immigrants, you hear? And they'll take and work this land, and things will work out fine!' Of course. How didn't I guess? Our very own Hirbet Hiz'e. No more problems of housing for immigrants! Hooray! We'll open a grocery-shop, open a school and maybe a synagogue, we'll have political parties. We'll debate a million and one things. They'll plow and plant and harvest and do great things. Long live the Hebrew Hize'! Who'd ever think that there was once a Hirbet Hiz'e, which we both expelled and inherited? We came here, and we shot, burnt, exploded, pushed, shoved, and exiled.
What on earth are we doing here?!"

Later, one of the families returned - A ten-year old boy, and a 16-year old, their mother and her sister. We managed with some rusty Arabic and mime. They wanted to take us on a tour of their groves. The ten-year old wouldn't come. He stayed at the doorstep, crying "Mustautinin…." He was afraid of the settlers. We strolled for a while, and reached a small brick-wall. I was about to walk over it, when the mother cried: "La! Mamnu'!" I learnt that a few weeks before an armed settler came and made it quite clear that no one is to cross this wall any longer, thought it was most defiantly their land. Since then, no one tried… Later we met one of the village elders, who told us about a settler called Avri who was there after the power-generator was burnt down. "I burnt your power-generator," said Avri, "And I sent the men who shot at your houses at night. And when all is over and done - I'll still be here, and you won't".
The village was dark at night. Only the surrounding settlement-caravans had light. We took turns at patrolling around the village all night. Nothing happened. During my shift, all I could think of was those people up in the caravans. What could they possibly be thinking? What are they doing here? What do they think of us?

I was due home in the morning. I had to pack and say my last goodbyes. A large group of activists came to the village during the night, and a few more came in the morning. They were planning on going to harvest olives with the villagers. At 9:00 a car left towards Akraba, and from there, back to Tel Aviv. It was wonderful to see a truck full of furniture, followed by a family on the return. In Akraba we met a UN force and representatives of the EU, who were on their way to Yannun. They heard that shots were fired from the settlement. We called our friends back in Yannun, and they confirmed it: while on their way to start the harvest, settlers started shooting at them. The Israeli police and the IDF didn't respond to the call for help.

The following day I went to prison. I knew this was the only thing to do.

All I have left is just to tie up some loose ends. In prison I met many soldiers who fought in the occupied territories. Some of them told me terrible stories. Avi and his squadron stopped a Palestinian car on the road. For the Palestinians, this was a fearful event, but all the soldiers wanted, was to ask for cigarettes, "just for the laughs". Roni the sniper was promised an extra day-off for every "terrorist" he kills. Shlomi from the elite paratrooper-unit was hungry, so he went to confiscate sheep from a Palestinian boy who was shepherding in the South Hebron-Mount. Haim from Golani caught a Palestinian who was about to infiltrate a settlement. His company "lent" the Palestinian to the settlers for the night. In the morning he was found tied to a tree, trembling, beaten, with broken teeth. He asked for a cigarette, and they put one out on his tongue. The platoon-commander wanted to kill the Palestinian, but the settlers had already informed the media of the capturing, so it wouldn't look too good if he was dead… Lior took-over houses in Nablus, Jenin, and Al-Bira in Ramalla (could some of them be my friends' houses?). "We had to launch stake-outs from these houses," he used to say. That was the excuse for looking a family in a small room. The family was not even allowed to the bathroom, because "who knows what they have hidden there".

Worst of all was Kobi, a settler from Kiryat Arba. He used to tell of the "pogroms", ashe called them, the settlers were carrying out, without being stopped by the army. They killed a 10-year old redhead boy for cursing them. They killed a 14-year old girl for spitting at a Boarder-Police soldier once. I tried to tell myself he was bluffing, that it couldn't be. Then I read "B'Tselem" report number 15 - and it was just there. The anonymous girl from Kobi's story was Nibin Jamjum, 14, murdered by settlers on 28.7.02, at 14:00. No one was arrested, no charges pressed. Nothing happened. The 400 inhabitants of the Jewish settlement in Hebron carry on terrorizing the entire population of 120,000 Palestinian inhabitants - with no one to stop them. Kobi was always nice to me, as he was to all Jews in prison. He was a funny guy, and would always pass me my socks in early-morning when I was cold. The contradiction between this person I knew and the things he did was just too awful.

While in prison I got a letter from one of the activists who came to Yannun with me. She sent me a picture of Yannun children walking to school. They were smiling. Thanks to Ta'ayush and the ISM (International Solidarity Movement) life in the village was restored, the villagers were back. I was touched by the picture, and told a fellow convict about it. The guy, Yehuda, turned out to be a "Mountain Youth" (young radical, religious, nationalistic settlers, taking initiative and taking over hills and lands in the West Bank), and the violent Avri of Itamar is a role model for him. From a recent story in Ha'aretz, I learnt that this Avri Ran was running a whole operation of terrorizing Palestinians and peace-activists. All for the common goal of getting more lands for Itamar, to ensure it won't be evicted in any future agreement. And the IDF, as usual, is nowhere to be seen when needed.

I am now held in detention at "Youth and Nahal Command" in Beit Lid. This command, part of the IDF "Education Core", has a huge part in the army's infiltration of the Israeli civilian society - a terrible problem which I chose to ignore for lack of time. The "command" is also in charge of all Nahal settlements (the Nahal is an IDF unit that combines fighting, work in the community and building new Jewish settlements both within and outside of the Green Line). During my stay there, I got to learn of the Nahal's new settlement in Vadi Arra. In a Power-Point presentation about it, I found the reasons for building this settlement. One of which is: "The area is occupied by an Arab majority of 95%" - what kind of a reason is that?! Amongst the settlement's goals are such as: "1. Creating a link between [the Jewish] Harish and Katsir… 3. Guarding State grounds and preventing illegal building. 4. Creating a direct security link between Harish and Katsir, using a new road that will present an alternative to the Vadi Arra road." Of course, the new settlement will get an access road, electricity, water and a sewer system - all with complements of the State. The residents of Dar El-Hannun, less then a mile away, are still waiting for recognition… I find this settlement a part of the same general conception which leads Israel's policy in the occupied territories. A Jewish block within a predominantly Arab area, a road for the Jewish settlements alone, etc. This is just a small random link I found between the racism and Apartheid as I've seen it, and the well-planned, well—coordinated IDF activities - even when it comes to the "enlightened" Education Corps.

The last topic I promised I would come back to is Eastern Jerusalem. My fifth and last visit to Eastern Jerusalem took place five months ago. I was taken on a day-trip from prison. We went to the Western part of Jerusalem, where they preached to us about religion and "our heritage" as Jews. Participation was obligatory. After lunch they took us to the Eastern part of the city, to "The City of David", formally the village of Sillwan. The bus took us through a Palestinian market in occupied Jerusalem. I was in prison uniforms, the IDF uniforms. I wanted to try and make solidarity with the Palestinians outside, but knew it was impossible. For them, I was an occupying soldier. I hated myself for being there, even if I had no choice. I felt sick. Ever since that day, I know with the utmost certainty that I cannot be a soldier in the Israeli army.