Every time my wife, Sis, and I leave Palestine, we think the situation couldn't get any worse while we are gone. But it does! And when we return, we think that it couldn't get any worse. But it does!
Once again, our time away was no exception. One of the first Palestinians I checked in with as I made my way into Hebron's Old City for the first time in several months was one of the handful of shopkeepers who has not shut down in despair and left for good. As always Tayseer was sitting patiently in front of his shop near the western entrance of the souq. And also as always he was doing very little business, even though it was Ramadan and more people than usual were passing his shop on the way to the Ibrahimi Mosque a half mile away.
When I asked how things had been in the Old City he jumped up excitedly from his chair and said passionately "Old City. Old City. It is the heart of Hebron, but now the Israelis have given it a heart attack."
In truth my question had been kind of pro forma because I could both imagine and clearly see what the answer would be. Nevertheless he filled me in. "There is no money. There is no freedom," he said; "and now the Jewish close the Mosque on many days, because it is the big holidays for the Jewish" [Ed: Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Succoth.]
At the other of the souq, I found a long line of Palestinians backed up at the turnstile (installed two years ago) waiting to be slowly let through one by one by Israeli Border Police sentries on guard at the entrance to the special Mosque security zone. Every so often one of the guards would pull aside a Palestinian youth or young man to check IDs. Inevitably that would make them late for prayers or miss it all together.
Across a plaza from the Muslim side of the Mosque, there is a long green metal fence that extends for most of its length, which is used for crowd for control. As I often do, I leaned against it and rested my hand on the top rung. I was startled to find that it felt greasy. In fact when I pulled my hand away and looked at it, I found it was greasy. My palm was covered with thick black goo. Looking closely at the fence, I found all the rungs along its entire length had been thickly slathered with it. I learned later that the Israeli Border Police often greased the barrier to discourage Palestinians from congregating in that part of the security zone.
Meanwhile also outside the Ibrahimi Mosque, Abu Hani who has been "the" tour guide there since 1947 reminded me unhappily that until 1994 he had led at least six tour groups on most days into the Mosque. That was before Ramadan 1994 when Israeli terrorist squatter-settler Baruch Goldstein hiding an automatic weapon in his clothes somehow made his way past Israeli sentries and murdered 29 Palestinians and injured many others. At the moment of the massacre all were on their knees, foreheads pressed to carpets covering the floor, facing Mecca unaware of the intruder's presence because their backs were to him. "After Goldstein," Abu Hani reminded, "they (the Israeli Army) shut the Mosque for many months. When it reopened, a synagogue had been carved out of its interior. "Now I can show you the Mosque but not the side for the Jewish; and since then the business for tours is almost nothing. Many days no one comes. "
He talked about the good old days when the late King Hussein of Jordan would come to the Mosque to pray. "And he came to my house (located just the other side of the turnstile inside the Old City) many times. But despite the prestige of some of the Arabs who came to pray during those earlier times, Abu Hani is a realist. "All the Arab leaders," he said scornfully, "are the shoes of Bush. All. Where is their help? No one helps Palestine."
I wondered if that complaint applied to Hezbollah leader Sheik Nasrullah. His copycat cross border capture of two Israeli soldiers set off last summer's month long cross border war in Lebanon and over northern Israel. "All the Arab leaders," he repeated, "are the shoes of Bush. No one helps Palestine."
Heading back through the souq towards the CPT apartment, I sat for awhile with Jamal whose handicrafts business depends on tourism. "Did Hezbollah do Palestine a favor by provoking the war with Israel?" I asked?
"No," he said emphatically. "You know, even the Sheik said it was a mistake. So while everyone was watching Lebanon, no one was watching Palestine. No one was telling how the sanctions, the settlers, and the army are making it worse for us. No one is telling how it is getting worse here day by day."
The sanctions are the reversal of commitments by the U.S. and major western powers to provide a critical portion of the continuous funds needed to support the official Palestinian infrastructure. The sanctions were imposed because the Palestinian people dared to give Hamas a majority of seats in the Palestinian Legislative Council in the election held early this year: democratic elections that were undeniably transparent as demanded by the west and Israel and which were in fact monitored carefully by international volunteers supervised by former U. S. President Jimmy Carter.
In Hebron's Old City an international spending time here cannot escape one of the saddest indicators of the effect of the sanctions on Palestinian survival. In years previous little Palestinian boys were rarely an issue for internationals. Yes, I said "issue." There was the occasional stone throwing; but until now more often than not the little boys (and often little girls too) were no problem when they would cluster around exuberantly and excitedly ask to have their picture taken. Then once taken, if the camera was digital, they would then pester the picture taker to let them see the picture. And that was it.
Not anymore. Or at least rarely. Now toddlers on up to pre-adolescent, are either asking for or demanding, "Give me shekels." This is a dilemma for internationals, because the intrusions are constant. As a result and because of the aggravation, how to handle - without losing one's temper - the persistence of the deprived off spring of people we care about has become the issue for internationals rather than the little ones problematic demand for money. Happily most often there usually is an older boy or Palestinian adult close by who, seeing what is happening, will intervene, scold the young intruders and send them on their way.
This new phenomenon is a direct result of the sanctions. Teachers, all public sector workers in fact, have been on strike for several weeks because there are no funds for the financing-starved Hamas led Palestinian Authority to pay them. So for about two months now Palestinian children with nothing to do have been roaming the streets unsupervised dealing in their own way with the critical Israeli and western inspired void in their young lives.
To Be Continued