Tom Dispatch
Tomgram: Jen Marlowe, Gaza Struggling under Siege
Vietnam's Mekong Delta <http://www.tomdispatch.com/post/174885> to West
Africa (where a war against women
<http://www.tomdispatch.com/post/174895/ann_jones_the_war_against_women_never_ends>
is now underway), Tomdispatch has lately been traveling to some of the
more scarred places on the planet. Today, Jen Marlowe, a documentary
filmmaker and human rights activist (as well as the author of Darfur
Diaries: Stories of Survival
<http://www.amazon.com/dp/1560259280/ref=nosim/?tag=nationbooks08-20>)
offers an account of her journey into the desperate human tragedy of the
besieged Gaza Strip.
she was living in Jerusalem while working on an Israeli/Palestinian
peace-building program. She has participated in nonviolent
demonstrations with Palestinian, Israeli, and international activists
resisting the Israeli separation barrier
<http://www.tomdispatch.com/post/1285/how_to_build_a_wall> being built,
in part, through Palestinian lands and the growing system of
Israeli-only roads on the West Bank. The deepening degradation of Gazans
living under a merciless siege, visibly a living hell, is something she
vividly captures at a personal level. /Tom/
The Tightening Noose
By Jen Marlowe
chunks of the wall that stood between them and Egypt, punching holes
in the largest open-air prison in the world and streaming across the
border. An incredible refusal to submit.
order to drive food and medicine from Egypt into the Gaza Strip. He
was acting for no humanitarian organization. He's just a resident of
Rafah, a Palestinian town which borders Egypt, with a deep need to
help and an opportunity to seize.
despair that has become daily life in the Gaza Strip. The situation
has bordered on desperate since the outbreak of the Second Intifada
in October 2000, when Gazans could no longer work inside Israel and
the attacks and incursions of Israel's military, the IDF, became a
regular occurrence. Closures on the Strip progressively intensified.
Movement," won the Palestinian Authority parliamentary elections,
defeating the reigning secular, nationalist Fatah Party. Israel, the
United States, and the European Union all refused to recognize the
new Hamas government and many elements within Fatah also went to
great lengths to ensure that it failed.
culminating in June 2007 in Hamas' takeover of the Gaza Strip.
Israel responded by sealing the Strip. On September 19, following
the repeated firing of crude Qassam rockets from the Beit Hanoun
neighborhood in the northern Gaza Strip into the Israeli town of
Sderot, the Israeli government unanimously labeled all of Gaza a
"hostile entity." Since then, restrictions by the IDF on who and
what is permitted to enter Gaza have grown harsher still. There are
not many witnesses to testify to the plight of Gazans these days. I
was lucky: In early January, in order to visit the participants of a
peace-building program I once worked for, I got in.
supermarket aisles or visit hospitals to check on which supplies
were unavailable. Instead, I used the time to talk to Gazans
involved in responding to the international siege and the internal
crisis that had led to it.
background, such as the afternoon when I drank coffee in Rafah with
Khaled Nasrallah, his brother Dr. Samir Nasrallah, and their wives
and children. Rachel Corrie, a 23 year-old peace-and-justice
activist from Olympia, Washington, had been killed on March 16, 2003
while standing in front of their home trying to prevent its
demolition by an Israeli military bulldozer. Between October 2000
and October 2004, the IDF destroyed 2,500 homes in the Gaza Strip.
Nearly two-thirds of them, like the Nasrallah's, had been the homes
of refugees in Rafah.
me into the living room of the apartment they have occupied since
their home was destroyed in 2004. It was sparsely furnished, but the
family's spirit more than compensated. When, for instance, thin,
quiet Dr. Samir saw an opportunity to make his young daughters or
nieces smile, his own face lit up. He clowned around as pictures
were taken, encouraging the girls to find ever sillier poses.
a few chocolate bars and a carton of Lucky Strikes from my backpack,
saying, "I understand these are hard to find these days."
unwrapped a single bar of chocolate, carefully broke it into small
pieces and distributed a section to each of the little girls. With
an equal sense of gravity, they sat on the thin, foam mats that
lined the room, slowly biting off tiny pieces, letting the chocolate
melt in their mouths. They were still sucking on the final bits as I
said goodbye.
wondered what I should bring with me. How much could I carry? What
did a people under siege need most? I imagined filling my backpack
with bags of rice, coffee, sugar, beans ? until I called my friend
Ra'ed in Beit Hanoun.
carton of Marlboros? Viceroy Lights? Rania requested chocolate.
Ahmad asked for shampoo.
they a sign that the situation wasn't as desperate as I feared? Or
maybe, given the sustained stress Gazans have been enduring, the
need for psychological relief took priority even over the staples of
survival?
those rechargeable florescent lights? The power's being cut off now
for eight hours at a time and my kids have exams. They can't study
without light."
the Gaza Strip. The border between Rafah and Egypt had been sealed
since the Hamas takeover. I arrived at Erez, struggling with my
three brimming bags and two rechargeable lights. The terminal had
been completely rebuilt since my last visit a year ago. The modest
building housing a few soldiers and computers was gone and in its
place was a slick, spotlessly clean, all-glass complex. It felt as
if I were entering the headquarters atrium of a multi-million dollar
corporation.
revolving gates. Crossing through the final gate, I found myself in
Gaza, the sleek glass building and its sanitized version of the
Israeli occupation suddenly no more than a surreal memory. I was on
a cracked cement pathway, covered by dilapidated plastic roofing, in
the middle of an abandoned field filled with nothing but stones and
rubble. Realities, even small ones, change so quickly, so grimly here.
a coordinator for the Palestinian-International Campaign to End the
Siege on Gaza. I handed her the chocolate bars she had requested.
"Thanks, habibti [my dear]" she said. "You know how important
chocolate can be for a woman." Normally remarkably passionate, Rania
now spoke and moved with the air of someone smothered by wet blankets.
here. What exactly is getting in?" I asked.
items allowed into Gaza. Now, the Israelis had reduced what could
enter the Strip to 20 items or, in some cases, types of items.
Twenty items to meet the needs of nearly 1.5 million people. It felt
like some kind of TV fantasy exercise in survival: You're going to a
deserted island and you can only bring 20 things with you. What
would you bring?
registered with the Israeli Ministry of Health. Frozen meat was
permitted, but fresh meat wasn't (and there was a shortage of
livestock in Gaza). Fruit and vegetables were allowed in, but --
Ra'ed quickly inserted -- less than what the population needed and
of an inferior quality. It was, he felt, as if Israel were dumping
produce not fit for their citizens or for international export into
Gaza.
rotten," he added.
flour, milk, and eggs. Soap yes, but not laundry detergent, shampoo,
or other cleaning products.
find it, sometimes you can't."
weapons into the Strip, were now responsible for a brisk black
market trade. Hamas, which controlled the tunnels, reportedly
earning a hefty profit from the $10 it now cost Gazans to buy a
single pack of cigarettes. Chocolate couldn't be found, not even on
the black market. A bag of cement that once cost about $10 reached
$75, and, by the time of my visit, couldn't be found at all. All
construction and most repair jobs had ground to a halt.
special request for dates was made to the Israelis and granted --
but only as a substitute for salt. To get their Ramadan dates,
Gazans had to sacrifice something else.
wry grin as we neared Rafah. "They're just putting us on a really
tight diet."
from the Women's Union Association, a women's fair-trade collective.
I was planning to bring the embroidery back to the U.S. for the
Olympia-Rafah Sister City Project, initiated after the death of
Rachel Corrie and working to realize her vision of connecting the
two communities.
goods from Egypt, according to Samira, the energetic program
director of the association. Over the last seven years, however,
most of the orchards and greenhouses in the town had been uprooted
by Israeli military bulldozers. Then, once the siege began for real,
Rafah's merchants could no longer obtain goods from Egypt. By the
time I arrived, only about 15% of the population was working, most
employed in government ministries.
work. I fingered beautiful shawls and wall hangings as she eagerly
described an exhibition of the women's hand embroidery held in Cairo
last May. Every piece had sold out. The women had then stitched new
pillowcases, bags, and vests at a frenetic pace for an exhibition in
Vienna scheduled for September 2007. The Gaza Strip, however, was
sealed in June. Neither the women, nor their embroidery could leave.
That plastic bag contained what should have gone to Vienna. The
project had already come to a standstill as the necessary raw
materials, chiefly colored thread, were now unavailable. Once these
pieces were sold, nothing would be left.
jacket, its joyous blaze of color strangely out of place in that
bare office. It had taken a year to complete, she said proudly. I
hesitated to buy it. It felt wrong, somehow, to remove that splash
of color from decimated Rafah. But who else would be arriving in
Rafah soon to buy from the collective? I asked Samira to prioritize
which items she wanted me to purchase. She packed up the jacket, and
as many other pieces as I could afford in that same plastic bag, and
handed them over to me.
back to Gaza City, I stared out the window, noting the green Hamas
flags and banners that decorated nearly every street corner and
intersection. As we neared our destination, I asked Rania if she
wanted to join me that evening.
6:30. The electricity will be cut after that and then -- no
elevator. I live on the ninth floor and, since my knee injury a few
years ago, it's really painful to walk up all those stairs."
of his time with me discussing Gaza's acute electricity crisis in
his office at the Al Mezan Center for Human Rights. Israel's fuel
restrictions were his primary concern. It wasn't just transportation
that suffered when fuel was sanctioned, he explained. Without fuel
for Gaza's sole power plant, the ensuing electricity shortage
constrains health and education services, leading to an acute
humanitarian crisis.
arrows on a small sticky pad. Gaza needs 237 megawatts of
electricity a day, 120 megawatts of which are supplied directly by
Israel. The Gaza power plant used to supply 90 megawatts, which
meant the Strip remained 27 megawatts a day short, even in what
passed for "good times." Then, in June 2006 after the kidnapping of
Israeli soldier Gilad Shalit, the Israelis bombed the power plant,
truncating its capacity. With the siege and its acute fuel shortage,
the plant could generate even less. Mahmoud feared that it might
have to stop operating altogether. On top of this, he added, Israel
was threatening to curtail the electricity it provides.
sanctions. Others had certainly suffered siege-related deaths in
which multiple factors were involved. For those 68, however, a clear
red line could be drawn directly to the siege -- to disruptions in
critical services or to the simple fact that someone couldn't reach
Israel or Egypt for needed medical care unavailable in Gaza.
wandered from the 68 extreme cases to the thousands of day-to-day
small sufferings that have become part of the fabric of life for
Gazans. I imagined the Nasrallah family huddled under blankets
trying to keep warm without a functioning electric heater, or
Ra'ed's children studying for exams by candle or flashlight, or
Rania climbing those nine flights of stairs on an injured knee.
Children and Youth in Rafah and its sister center in Jabalya Refugee
Camp. Both centers are under the umbrella of the Union of Health
Workers. "We are sometimes asked," Suhail told me, "how a children's
center fits under the umbrella of a health organization, but the
connection is very clear. According to the World Health
Organization, health is not measured only by lack of illness. A
healthy child is also healthy socially, emotionally, and mentally --
and this is the role we play."
activities are designed to help support children mentally,
emotionally, but they don't want to leave the house. The kids are
depressed. Everyone is depressed."
is a traditional Palestinian folk-dance -- traveled to Britain,
touring and performing in 15 cities. Now, they can't leave the Gaza
Strip. "We want Al Jazeera to broadcast them performing in a local
celebration," Suhail said. "The youth are also making their own
movies, showing their daily realities. There are different ways to
break a siege."
international isolation. "Yes, the siege makes everything much, much
more difficult, but the internal crisis even more so. Religious
conservatism is taking a stronger hold."
example. "We used to have a mixed-gender community. There were even
more girls participating than boys. Now, it's the opposite. Boys and
girls are hesitant even to be in the same room with each other for
fear of attack by Hamas." She pointed to a young male volunteer. "We
have to be very cautious in our interactions with each other."
takes a lot of time. And it has a lot of enemies."
takeover in Gaza. "After you leave here today," she said, "it's very
likely that someone will come and ask about you. Who are you? What
were you doing here?"
her comment. "Did we put you in danger by coming today?"
seemed, were being carefully, if unobtrusively, monitored.
(GCMHP), Husam al Nounou and Dr. Ahmad Abu Tawahina brought into
focus the degree to which the Hamas takeover had affected life in
Gaza. Husam, the program's director of public relations, was
soft-spoken and Dr. Abu Tawahina, its director general, was
animated; both men radiated self-assurance and dignity.
and Fatah militants had ended. There were no longer shoot-outs on
street corners. Military actions against Fatah-connected individuals
were on-going, however. Dr. Abu Tawahina described cases of people
leaving their houses only to find the body of a relative dumped on
the street, or frantic Gazans calling police stations after a family
member "disappeared," only to be told that there was "no information."
significantly, Husam told me. Direct or indirect messages of fear
and intimidation are now regularly passed on to journalists and
human rights workers. Fatah affiliates are beaten up, detained,
their cars burned; Fatah-related organizations have been totally
destroyed. I was reminded of Mahmoud's reply when I asked him if Al
Mezan's ability to work, exposing human rights abuses to the people
of Gaza, has been affected since the takeover.
slowly. "We are not allowing ourselves to be intimidated."
certainly played a major role in the internal fighting -- Dr. Abu
Tawahina carefully explained -- as has the regional factor:
Washington supports Fatah, while Hamas is backed by Syria and Iran.
But, as Husam pointed out, other factors should not be ignored.
"There is no tradition of democracy or transfer of power in
Palestinian society," he said. "Fatah was not prepared to lose the
January 2006 elections or give authority over to Hamas."
and Ehud Olmert's government in Israel to recognize the
democratically elected Hamas government, as well as their support
for Fatah's attempts to sabotage it.
chance to actually govern in the first place?"
sure. But I think there's a good chance that Hamas would have
changed. There are lots of indications that they were initially
willing to."
Fatah officials had spent years in Israeli prisons, he commented,
enduring torture at the hands of Israeli interrogators and soldiers.
After signing the Oslo peace agreements in 1993, members of the
Palestine Liberation Organization (in which Fatah is the most
powerful faction) were permitted to establish a self-governing
apparatus called the Palestinian Authority (PA). Israel put pressure
on the PA to arrest those who opposed the Oslo process, particularly
when opposition groups carried out attacks in Israel.
involved in the violence, spent time in PA jails. Fatah
interrogators then applied the same techniques to the prisoners in
their hands as the Israelis had once used against them, even ramping
the methods up a notch or two.
aggressor,'" Dr. Abu Tawahina told me.
Gaza Strip and they are seeking revenge for a decade of mistreatment
under Fatah. The phenomenon can be found in Gazan civil society as
well. One hundred thousand Palestinian laborers used to work inside
Israel, suffering daily humiliations at the hands of Israeli
soldiers at the Erez crossing. If they directed their anger and
frustration at their abusers, they would lose the permits that
allowed them to work inside Israel. Instead, many erupted in rage at
home at their wives or children, creating new victims.
precedent. Hamas took the detentions and torture that were part and
parcel of Palestinian life under Israeli rule and later under the PA
and added the previously unimaginable -- Algerian-style executions
and disappearances. These were something new as acts among
Palestinians.
or the details of their torture. Hamas won't allow Gaza Community
Mental Health Program staff to visit the prisons as they once did
regularly. Human rights organizations are trying to compile lists of
the missing, but there are no comprehensive statistics.
Gaza only mounts. Violence in the society as a whole, including
domestic violence, is on the rise. New victims continue to be created.
charge," Husam said. "We tried to warn them of the long-term
consequences their torture could bring. They didn't want to hear it."
building a community that would enjoy genuine democracy and the rule
of law, no matter who was in charge. But in that office, his dream
felt, at best, remote.
Hamas and reinstall Fatah. Do you think that Fatah would now
institute a program of reconciliation?"
from a barely perceptible shake of his head, I knew what his
response was.
program's services are desperately needed. The staff work
feverishly, trying to develop new techniques to meet the catastrophe
that is Gaza, but nothing, not telephone counseling, nor bringing in
other NGOs, nor holding community meetings to give larger numbers of
people coping tools can meet the escalating needs of the community.
pointedly. "Our staff feel inadequate in helping our clients. When
the source of someone's mental symptoms comes from physical needs
not being met, then there is very little that therapeutic techniques
can do."
fraying. In Palestinian society, the extended family has always
served as the center of a web of support and protection. Previously,
the mental health project used this incredibly powerful social
network as part of its outreach, making special efforts to educate
family members in how to take care of each other.
Tawahina suggested that loyalty to political parties might be
growing stronger than loyalty to family. In many families, the
cracks are showing. Husam told me of families where one brother,
loyal to Hamas, gave information to the Hamas leadership about
another brother, active in Fatah, leading to his detention. I had
even heard rumors of brother killing brother. The implications of
this go far beyond the work of one mental health group. The very
foundations of Palestinian endurance and survival are now threatened
as the social fabric, their strength as a people, begins to unravel.
subject. "The level of hate towards those behind the siege --
Israelis and Americans -- is increasing. We need to show the human
face of people from the U.S."
their desire to launch an Internet program between young people in
Rafah and teenagers in Olympia, Washington, Rachel Corrie's
hometown. In itself, there was nothing shocking about the fact that
anger towards Americans, whose government strongly supported the
siege and had also backed Fatah in the internecine struggle in Gaza,
was on the rise. If anything, what was surprising, touching, and
human was the urge of a few Palestinians to challenge that hatred
and put a human face on Americans.
show that collective punishment isn't limited to those who are
directly subjected to the punishment. It affects the international
community as well. What is happening now in Gaza may someday very
well affect what happens later in Europe and the United States."
ago of Gazans flooding into Egypt. I feel myself on some threshold
between paralysis and hope -- anguished by the unending desperation
that led to the destruction of that wall and yet inspired by the way
the Gazans briefly broke their own siege.
in Gaza -- and we /are/ allowing, even facilitating, it -- will come
back to haunt us. Still, despite all the indicators of a society
locked into an open-air prison giving in to violence and possibly
fragmenting internally past the point of reconciliation, I hold onto
a small hope. Perhaps those of us outside that prison will be
affected by more than the explosive rage that inevitably comes from
an effort to collectively crush 1.5 million people into submission.
Perhaps we will also be affected by the Gazans who refuse to submit
to their oppressors, be they from outside or within. Ultimately, I
hope we'll choose to stand in solidarity with them.
the author of Darfur Diaries: Stories of Survival
<http://www.amazon.com/dp/1560259280/ref=nosim/?tag=nationbooks08-20>
(Nation Books). She is now directing and editing her next film,
Rebuilding Hope <http://www.rebuildinghopesudan.org/>, about South
Sudan, and writing a book about Palestine and Israel. Her most
recent film <http://www.darfurdiaries.org/> was /Darfur Diaries:
Message from Home/. She serves on the board of directors of the
Friends of the Jenin Freedom Theatre
<http://www.friendsofthejeninfreedomtheatre.org/> and is a founding
member of the Rachel's Words initiative
<http://www.rachelswords.org/>. Her email address is:
jenmarlowe@hotmail.com/