report from Palestine August 21, 2003

Steve gets a bit of beach-y R&R, but only a bit.
“I continue to believe that this
is exactly what the Israeli Right
wants–the more warfare there is,
the more support they get.”

Tel Aviv, Thursday, August 21, 2003
Again, no photos attached–my apologies. I forgot to
bring my CD-ROM to the Internet cafe.
Yesterday was a stressful and depressing day in
Jayyous. In the evening, some farmers and
internationals went down to the gate to try and cut
the wire that was holding it shut (for some reason,
the chain and lock had not been put back on after the
gate was opened for some construction workers working
on the Wall). We were especially concerned about
“Farhat’s” 12,000 cabbage seedlings, which needed to
be planted before they died.
We had a complex operation, with some folks at the
municipality on the top of the hill watching out for
security cars approaching, some of us halfway down the
hill, out of sight, with big clippers, and some folks
at the gate. Work on the wire ceased when security
showed up, followed by Border Guard and army–8
vehicles in all. Ora from JAtO and Abu Ali negotiated
and pleaded with the uniformed men to open the gate
for the farmers waiting. Eventually, they allowed the
3 farmers through–without internationals. We were
concerned about their safety out there with all those
soldiers, but they were OK. The affront to Jayyous
farmers’ dignity, pleading for permission to enter
their own land, makes me want to cry.
This morning, we went down to plant the cabbage
seedlings. The farmers came down to the gate in a
taxi, and the security refused to let it
through–totally arbitrarily, and completely beyond
their mandate. We proceeded on foot, and managed to
get all the cabbage into the ground.
Afterward, Gabriel from SUSTAIN, Ora from JAtO,
Christy from Olympia and I left Jayyous for Tel Aviv.
It was really hard to say goodbye to the Jayyous Peace
Activists–I can’t wait to see them again next year.
Gabriel had a long talk with the Israeli Society for
Citizens’ Rights about the situation with the gates in
the Apartheid Wall. They may be able to mount a
successful case in the High Court of Israel to change
the situation.
We had planned to go to Nablus tomorrow for a Saturday
demonstration, but with the invasions of Nablus,
Tulkarm and Jenin by the Israeli army, the demo may be
called off. The Israeli army assassination of a Hamas
leader in Gaza today signals a whole new round of
strike and counterstrike. I continue to believe that
this is exactly what the Israeli Right wants–the more
warfare there is, the more support they get.
It’s good to be able to relax on the beach in Tel
Aviv. In the morning, we’ll go to Tel Aviv District
Court to attend a hearing of Andreas and Andrew, Swede
and Scot from ISM Nablus who were arrested for
chaining themselves to a home slated for demolition in
Balata Refugee Camp (the cruelty of bulldozing
refugees’ homes boggles the mind). [see the photo and
link on my post yesterday, and now the “after” photo
below]
After that, perhaps to Nazlat Isa. It’s a village
right over the Green Line from the Baqa el-Gharbiya,
the town I lived in 1985-1986. Nazlat Isa is one of
the communities isolated between the Wall to the east
and the Green Line to the west. Most of Nazlat Isa’s
commercial district was demolished to make way for the
Wall last winter, and the Israeli army began
demolishing what’s left today.
Steve


The Salim famliy in their destroyed home in Balata on Sunday.
[photo from International Middle East Media Center]

“for all time” may be short

The White House may be ready to admit failure in Iraq, but how are they going to do it? – by asking the United Nations to give them moral and physical cover. The UN is supposed to make it an ok thing and its members are supposed to sacrifice their own young, effectively to draw the fire from ours.
All this is supposed to happen without the U.S. sharing with others the overall control of Iraq, the credit for any possible successes, the profits which are still anticipated to result from our fiendish venture, and of course our Middle East, and planetary, hegemony.
We’ve just murdered 23 UN workers in Baghdad. International aid groups are withdrawing from the entire country. Months ago we eagerly invaded a defenseless people for reasons which will shame this republic for all time. We have destroyed a nation physically and morally. We occupy Iraq. All security there is our responsibility alone. We are killing Iraqis and our own people daily. Our ignorance, our ideological fanaticism and our greed for energy and world economic and political power have all blinded us. We’ve botched everything and are continuing to botch everything, and obviously not just in Iraq.
I trust a majority even of the UN Security Council cannot be suckered now into becoming our accomplices – and their own executioners, but our nation’s unrestrained power has done such contrived or insane evil in Iraq and elsewhere, there may now be no possible prescription for the plagues we have unleashed.
“For all time” may last just a cosmic moment longer.
____________________
For a related post, see Bloggy and the comments posted there.

“by any means necessary”


Rude rube
They can’t win office or policy by democratic or constitutional means, so they’re doing it by any means they can.
The most dramatic examples are the Clinton impeachment attempt, the 2000 election outcome, the California governor recall, the Texas redistricting outrage, perpetual war for perpetual radical-conservative majorities and strong-arming or bribing both the UN and NATO. But it’s happening on every level across the country and around the world. It’s all part of the new Republicanism.
The republicrats have adopted and turned inside out Malcom X’s warning phrase, later the Black Panthers’ call for action, “by any means necessary.” The words were originally used to confront racism and were later directed toward capitalism as well, but of course Karl Rove and his friends have very different ideas. Their confrontation is with democracy itself and with the common good. And the non-violence thing? Just look around. Only the state is permitted to use violence, and in fact it is more and more strongly encouraged to do so.

report from Palestine August 20, 2003


Andreas Koninek, 20, an International Solidarity Movement volunteer from Stockholm, chained to a Palestinian house in Balata refugee camp, waiting for the Israeli military to arrive on August 17. [ISM story]
Steve writes from Joyyous today. He includes accounts of Israel retaliating against farmers for the attacks of unrelated terrorists, Israel gasing Palestinians in their prison cells, Israel stealing Palestinian farmland to build ghetto walls which will isolate their victims, Israeli bulldozers destroying lemon orchards, Palestinians forced by Israelis to build their own cages in order to have work which will support their families.
After I read through it I concluded that the caption which Steve gives to his report was too restrained. He addresses the real story early in the text which illustrates it, and he elaborates on his conclusion near the end.
“Preventing a farmer in Jayyous from planting his
seedlings carries no benefit for Jews in Jerusalem
wishing to return home safely from the Western Wall.
What the closure does is make life in Palestine that
much more unlivable, Palestinians’ access to their
land and water that much more tenuous, “voluntary”
ethnic cleansing that much closer to reality.
That’s the real purpose of locking the gates in the
Wall.
. . . .
I’m convinced that the goal is not land and water
theft, it’s ethnic cleansing. The Israeli government
wants to make the Palestinian communities within 5 or
6 kilometers of the Wall unlivable, forcing the
thousands living there to move deeper into the West
Bank or into another country. Perhaps the plan is
then to repeat this process a little further in, until
the West Bank is virtually Arabrein from the Green
Line to the Jordan River. Sharon’s governing
coalition includes parties that support expulsion of
all Palestinians from Palestine; it seems that the
“moderates” have the same plan, but wish to make it
appear voluntary.”

Gates As a Form of Collective Punishment
Jayyous, Wednesday, August 20, 2003
Ras Atiyah’s gate has been closed since the
demonstration last Friday. The people of Ras e-Tira,
Dab’a and the other communities walled in with Alfe
Menashe have been cut off from Palestinian life,
apparently as punishment for their daring to hold a
peaceful demonstration in favor of children’s access
to school.
Today, every gate in the Apartheid Wall in the West
Bank, from Tubas to Jenin to Tulkarm to Qalqilya to
Mas’ha, is chained shut. Thousands of Palestinian
farmers are unable to reach their land. The reason?
A member of Islamic Jihad from Hebron in the southern
West Bank, in retaliation for the Israeli army’s
assassination of an Islamic Jihad activist in Hebron
last week, carried out a dastardly attack on
ultra-Orthodox Jewish worshippers in Jerusalem
yesterday. The connection with Palestinian farmers in
Jayyous? Absolutely none.
None of the 35 farmers who lined up at the gate in
Jayyous this morning had anything to do with events in
relatively far-off Hebron and Jerusalem. Most of them
probably condemn the attack in Jerusalem, as well as
Sharon’s provocations. But all of them were kept off
of their land, as were farmers up and down the
northern West Bank.
The idea here is of course not to make Israelis safer.
Preventing a farmer in Jayyous from planting his
seedlings carries no benefit for Jews in Jerusalem
wishing to return home safely from the Western Wall.
What the closure does is make life in Palestine that
much more unlivable, Palestinians’ access to their
land and water that much more tenuous, “voluntary”
ethnic cleansing that much closer to reality.
That’s the real purpose of locking the gates in the
Wall.
I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch for a while. Here’s
my journal for the last ten days. No photos – the
computers in the Internet cafe in Jayyous won’t let me
attach.
–Steve
Jayyous, Sunday, August 10, 2003
“Nabil”, ISM coordinator from Tulkarm, is in Jayyous
for a visit. He told us a hair-raising story last
night. He was taken from his house and imprisoned at
age 17œ during the waning days of the first Intifada.
He said that the Israeli forces used to target the
top students for arrest. He was only in jail for 21
days, a very short term compared to most of the
Palestinian men I know, but during that time the
guards went from underground cell to underground cell,
opened a hatch in the very heavy metal door, and
dropped in a half kilo of powder with an action like
tear gas, only stronger. (I assume that the Jews
reading this journal have the same horrible
association that I have with this image, even though
the substance in question here is not Zyklon B and is
usually not lethal.) Nabil says that it took about
80 hours for the irritant to dissipate. “Rashid”,
head of the Prisoners’ Club in Qalqilya, had told us
about the same process in all 3 of the Israeli prisons
he was in. Last week, about 100 prisoners at Ashqelon
Prison were injured while being gassed in their cells,
9 of them critically.
Gabriel and I went to the Falamiya Gate this morning,
and then walked over to the Jayyous Gate with John.
Very few farmers passed through either gate.I wonder
if a lot of them are sleeping in their fields beyond
the wall these days? The Border Guard was patrolling
and there were security at the Jayyous gate where
workers with heavy equipment (Caterpillar, natch) were
digging a trench, but we didn’t see any harassment.
It’s a tough call deciding whether or not to do Gate
Watch.one doesn’t want to get up at 5:30 in the
morning to waste one’s time, but we’d be devastated if
there were another incident at a time that we could
have been there.
Walking back up to the village, a man stopped us and
told me about his 70 dunums of land taken from him by
the Wall. He referenced boulders on his land and the
nearby settlement of Tsufim, so his land must be near
the quarry. He said, “Can you help me?” I can’t, of
course, and we both walked away feeling pretty bad.
A new crop of ISM activists came into Jayyous
today-all Jews, including Liat, a staff member of
Jewish Voices for Peace in San Francisco, Ora from
JAtO/NYC, and Rann, an Israeli who lives in Britain.
Qalqilya, Monday, August 11, 2003
Today, ISM activists from all over Palestine once
again converged on Qalqilya for a big demo against the
Wall. The demo was called by the Qaliqilya political
parties in response to Democratic members of the U.S.
House of Representatives who visited Israel as guests
of the American Israel Political Action Committee.and
who didn’t visit the wall. It was the usual
Underground Railroad scenario, and all of us, each in
a small group, managed to slip in undetected. We
spent a lot of time making signs and props for the
demo. (There are two ways to get media: someone gets
shot, or activists get creative. We prefer the
latter.) One activist drew a picture of Qalqilya
being hanged by a noose (representing the Apartheid
Wall that surrounds it), with an Israeli soldier
holding the noose. The soldier was drawn as an evil
looking guy with a big nose and Stars of David on
him.it looked more like a Nazi propaganda poster than
a sign for Palestinian freedom. David from JAtO/NYC
pointed it out to me, I said something, and the sign
was trashed.
Tracie called me from Jayyous to say that some farmers
came to the house to look for us-there’s a bulldozer
in the orchards beyond the fence knocking down lemon
trees. One of the farmers stood in front of the
bulldozer and stopped the work for the afternoon.
Tracie, Michelle and David went out to the orchards,
where an elderly farmer was holding branched of a
ruined lemon tree and wailing “Allahu akbar” over and
over again.
Jayyous, Tuesday, August 12, 2003
Today was the 2nd big Qalqilya demonstration at the
wall. In the morning, we heard on the news about the
attacks in Rosh Ha’ayin and Ariel (undoubtedly a
response to the much deadlier Israeli army attack on
Askar Refugee Camp on Saturday night), and prepared
ourselves for soldiers with a hair trigger. The
Israeli authorities in the meantime closed Qalqilya
checkpoint, meaning that no media could get in to
cover our action.
We had many more participants from Qalqilya than last
time. We marched to the vicinity of the military gate
in the southwest corner of what’s left of Qalqilya,
just like last time. This time, instead of hoisting a
giant banner with balloons, we used paint rollers on
very long poles to paint giant Palestinian flags up
above the graffiti from July 31. We also tied strings
of names of prisoners to tennis balls, and threw them
over the wall, and girls from Qalqilya released doves.
Check out www.palsolidarity.org for photos.
Our two negotiators, Lisa from Italy and Sam from the
U.S., were awesome. At one point, a few boys from
Qalqilya threw stones in the direction of the troops
who were watching the demonstration with guns cocked.
Despite the fact that older boys and men from Qalqilya
exposed themselves to the troops by running out front
and literally tackling the stone throwers in order to
stop them, the Israeli soldiers began throwing sound
grenades at us (not exactly a de-escalatory tactic).
The usual Israeli army tactic is to follow the sound
grenades with tear gas, then rubber bullets, and
eventually live ammunition. Sam and Lisa, however,
who had positioned themselves among the soldiers from
the beginning of the demo, convinced them to stop
throwing the grenades and allow the demo to wind down
naturally. There were a few speeches and we withdrew.
As we left, Israeli soldiers were spotted in hiding
in the orchards off to the side (something the
commander denied to our negotiators), which was a
provocation that sparked more stone throwing and tire
burning. Fortunately, the army, withdrew, and no
Palestinian boys were hurt.
Tel Aviv, Wednesday, August 13, 2003
In the morning, Rann and Ora and I from ISM went down
to the gate in the Apartheid Wall near the village of
Falamiya-the next gate to the north after Jayyous’s
gate. The gate was open (although, ominously, the
same chain and lock that had recently appeared on
Jayyous’s gate was hangin on this one), farmer traffic
was very light, and there was no military presence in
evidence. We chatted with a farmer working on is
trees right inside the Wall, who spoke with us in
Hebrew. He said that there would be a process
regarding the Wall and its gates: first the gates are
always open. Then the gates are always open, but
there’s a lock and chain hanging on it. Then they’re
locked at night. Then they’re locked during the day
as well, except for certain hours. Finally, the gates
are locked for good, paving the way for the
confiscation of all the land outside the fence. We’ve
heard these same predictions from a number of farmers;
when you’ve lived under occupation for 36 years, you
tend to know the ways of the occupier.
Later in the afternoon, the internationals from ISM
and Ahmed and Farouq from Jayyous Peace Activists went
down to the orchards where lemon trees were being
bulldozed. It seems that a farm road is being paved
and widened-for reasons we can’t understand and quite
against the wishes of the farmers whose trees are
being destroyed. The farmers we met, however, asked
the Jayyous Peace Activists and ISM not to mount a
demonstration. They noted that the workers widening
the road are Palestinian, and were being careful not
to damage irrigation pipes or trees other than the
hundreds in the path of the widened road. They felt
that any protest against this unnanounced invasion of
their land would cause the contractors to replace the
Palestinian workers with Druze or Jewish workers who
would carelessly destroy anything in their path. They
were also afraid that any protest would lead to a
retaliatory locking of the gate; now that the
Apartheid Wall is up, the Israeli army has enormous
control over Palestinians’ behavior just by holding
the keys to the gate.
A group of us New Yorkers spent the evening in Tel
Aviv (the privilege to pass freely between Israel and
the West Bank of course being one that our Palestinian
friends and hosts don’t have). We went to the Tel
Aviv Beer Festival because D.A.M., a Palestinian
hip-hop artist from Haifa whom we admire for his
political songs, was scheduled to appear on the
Israeli hip-hop and reggae stage. We spent a few
hours there, but were so disgusted by the acts that
preceded D.A.M. that we had to leave. Some were just
amateurish and stupid, but others were pro-occupation
hip-hop artists who rapped about crushing Gaza among
other things, and who were introduced as having “blue
and white flowing in their veins”. Ugh.
Jerusalem, Thursday, August 14, 20003
I went up to Jerusalem early in the morning for an ISM
Core Group meeting in El-Ram, a Palestinian West Bank
community illegally annexed to Israeli Jerusalem. It
was wonderful to see Lysander from New York’s Direct
Action Palestine there; I hadn’t seen her since she
was arrested in Mas’ha and banned from the West Bank.
The meeting was long and involved; ISM is an ambitious
international project committed to grassroots
democracy and consensus process. I had to miss the
second day of the meeting because of my region’s
scheduled action in Ras Atiyah.
Jayyous, Friday, August 15, 2003
Early in the morning I got on a bus chartered by Yesh
Gvul, a 20-year-old Israeli organization for military
refusers, to go to a demonstration in Ras Atiyah
organized by the Committee Against the Wall/Committee
Against the Settlements with ISM participation. It
was interesting to talk with Itai, an organizer from
Yesh Gvul, during the ride. He downplayed the time he
and others have spent in jail for refusing their
Israeli military service, noting that it’s the
Palestinians who live in a jail all the time.
I also talked with other ISM internationals on the bus
about the previous night’s house demolition in Askar
Refugee Camp in Nablus, where I spent time last year.
The house demolished was under ISM’s protection, and
the internationals in the house chose to stay with the
family when the family decided to evacuate (as per the
orders of the Israeli soldiers who arrived in the
middle of the night). It was hard news to take for
the many Nablus ISM members who would have wanted to
be there to help, but were in Jerusalem either to
attend the Core Group meeting, or because of their
arrest in Mas’ha.
As I’ve written here before, Qalqilya is entirely
surrounded by the Apartheid Wall. South of Qalqilya
is a corridor outside the wall that allows passage
from Israel to the illegal settlement of Alfe Menashe,
east of Qalqilya. South of that are the villages of
Habla and Ras Atiyah, themselves surrounded by the
Wall. The Wall has been constructed in such a way
that 3 Palestinian villages and 2 Bedouin settlements
have been walled in with Alfe Menashe. 1000 people in
these 5 communities have been cut off from access to
the rest of the West Bank, but forbidden to enter
Israel. The stage is set for ethnic cleansing there.
Ras e-Tira is one of those 5 communities in the Alfe
Menashe enclave created by the Wall. Children from
Ras e-Tira go to school in Ras Atiyah, which is in the
Habla-Ras Atiyah enclave created by the wall. The
school in Ras Atiyah is right next to the Wall
(children painted slogans against the Wall’s
construction on the school), and the kids from Ras
e-Tira have to pass through a gate there in order to
reach the school. They are often prevented from doing
so, and the demonstration was planned to call
attention to Ras e-Tira’s lack of access to education.
We were met at the demonstration site by the usual
private security paid to guard the construction of the
wall. They were their usual aggressive selves, but we
were able to put a protective line of internationals
and Israelis in front of the Palestinian demonstrators
who held signs, chanted, sang, and made speeches
against the Wall. The security called the army and
the Border Guard, who showed up and demanded that
everyone withdraw inside the gate. We were asked by
the organizers not to give up the gate, because it
would be closed and locked, stranding the
demonstrators from Ras e-Tira. It was pretty tense
for a while, as soldiers and Border Guard gave us five
minutes to disperse before they began using force, but
our negotiators were wonderful, and Palestinian and
international demonstrators showed incredible
discipline in the face of verbal and physical
provocations by the soldiers, Border Guard, and
security. The Israeli demonstrators were not as
disciplined, and one got into a verbal confrontation
with a security guard that ended with the guard
slapping the activist, after which the activist
(natch) was arrested. They also tried to arrest
Jackie, a videographer from New York, but we swallowed
her up into the crowd (but not before a soldier
grabbed and broker her camera).
As the time for Friday prayers approached, the
Palestinian activists prayed in the schoolyard rather
than going to the mosque, which put the soldiers and
Border Guard in a bind. When they were done, Ras
e-Tira demonstrators were permitted to cross the gate
and return to their village. Jackie crossed too,
since her bags were in Ras e-Tira, and the Border
Guard tried again to arrest her. Fortunately, she got
away. We then withdrew into the schoolyard, and the
Israeli soldiers closed and locked the gate.
The Jayyous Peace Activists were really happy with the
demonstration, and we’re looking forward to more work
with the villages south of Qalqilya. One suggestion
from a member of the Land Defense Committee in Ras
e-Tira is that we set up a fence in the schoolyard in
Ras Atiyah to help ensure kids’ access once school
starts on September 1.
At 7 in the evening, a boy came to our door to tell us
that the gate in the Wall had been closed and locked,
and many farmers were stranded outside. We walked
down the hill, and found Abu Ali there among the
others, waiting to get out to his lands to spend the
night. He called the mayor, who called the Israeli
army District Commanding Officer, and at about 8:30
soldiers came by and opened the gate for the people
waiting to get in and out. I took a flask photograph
while they were re-locking the gate behind the last of
the farmers, which enraged the commander of the
soldiers. He demanded repeatedly to know who I was,
but I was long gone.
The soldiers said that they’d be opening the gate for
a few hours each morning and evening from now on.
It’s hard to describe how humiliating the whole
experience was, with farmers on their own land locked
out of their own homes by a capricious and vindictive
foreign army, an army that’s been here for 36 years.
Jayyous, Saturday, August 16, 2003
I descended to the gate four times today, as it was
locked, unlocked, locked and unlocked again, each time
with a different story of what hours it would be open.
Tracie and Michelle, ISM Jayyous, told me about our
friend “Mortaza” and why he stays away from the gate
and from demonstrations-he was arrested, held tied to
a chair for 72 days, and then imprisoned for 17
months. He was never charged. He’s been told that if
he’s seen “causing trouble”, he’ll be reimprisoned.
On Gate watch I chatted with “Abd el-Wahid”, who told
me about his grandfather’s land, now in Tel Aviv, and
how he still has the Ottoman deed to it. Tracie and I
also had tea with Khaled, a shepherd who was taken by
the army a month ago while tending his flock outside
the fence, and taken to Jaljulya checkpoint and
released at 3:00 in the morning.
Liat (of the Bay Area’s Jewish Voices for Peace) and I
went to visit the Bedouin family trapped outside the
Wall. We were pretty worried about walking through
Jayyous’s south gate, since Palestinians and
internationals have been threatened and shot at for
passing through, but we thought it was important to
check on the welfare of this family. The mom and some
of the kids were home, and they enthusiastically
welcomed us and served us tea as we sat and talked
amongst their rabbits and chickens (dad was out with
the sheep). They’re running low on water, because the
pump in the nearby village of Azzun is broken. That
pump directs water from the aquifer to villages all
over the area. People in the village buy water ($150
for 11 cubic meters), but they can’t get the tank
delivered from the other side of the Wall (not to
mention the obstacle of the money). The mom has
diabetes, and had medical papers indicating her
permission to pass through to Qalqilya for treatment,
but the security guards ripped up her papers and
denied her passage. She was also worried about the
kids’ ability to pass through the gate to get to
school next month.
We committed to having internationals walk the kids to
and from school each day starting in September, on the
assumption that the security, soldiers and Border
Guard would hesitate to harass them with
internationals present. We also went back to the
Jayyous peace activists, who said they’d talk to the
mayor about trying to get permission from the District
Commanding Officer to have a tractor with the water
tank cross the gate. We committed to raising the
money.
When we returned to the gate, we saw that boys who had
seen us walk through the gate ventured to do the same
themselves, and set tires on fire in the road. We
were pretty mad about it, because of the danger it put
us in, but the boys were nowhere to be found. We
passed through the gate unmolested.
The farmers were locked out of Jayyous again tonight,
and the mayor had to call the DCO to send soldiers to
open briefly.
Qalqilya Sunday August 17, 2003
During Gate Watch this morning, some Palestinian
construction workers who are building the Apartheid
Wall sat down with us to chat (needless to say,
they’re not from Jayyous). I kept my distance from
them. Israel’s economic war on Palestine is so severe
that some Palestinians will build their own cages for
a daily wage. Later in the day, a reporter and
photographer from a regional newspaper in the Sharon
region of Israel came to interview people, see the
Wall, and met the Bedouin family. When the two
journalists, accompanied by a group of Jayyous Peace
Activists and internationals, tried to return to the
village, we found the gate closed and blocked by one
of the security guards. After we stood in the sun
arguing with them for a while, a jeep came along and a
soldier ordered the security guard to open the gate.
He told the two Israeli journalists (he didn’t know
that one of the internationals is also Israeli) that
they couldn’t go back into Jayyous without permission.
This is nonsense, of course; Jayyous is in Area C
according to the Oslo Accords, which means that there
are no restrictions on Israeli access. Nevertheless,
the journalists chose not to go back to Jayyous with
us.and accepted a ride with the soldiers in the jeep.
Now I understand why Palestinians distrust Israeli
journalists. What would we think if a Daily News
reporter interviewed people in Red Hook about police
brutality, and then got a ride out of there in a
police car?
In the evening we were called to Qalqilya to help with
a situation there. A giant military bulldozer had
shown up with a surveyor, attempting to destroy all
the greenhouses, sheds, and farmlands within 50 meters
of the 8-meter high wall on the west side of Qalqilya.
The bulldozer stopped working and left when
internationals arrived on the scene, but was expected
to return during the night or the next day. ISM
activists converged on the city to block the
destruction. We decided that we would not allow tear
gas, rubber bullets, or threat of arrest keep us from
blocking the bulldozer.
Jayyous Monday, August 18, 2003
We waited at a greenhouse by the Wall in Qalqilya,
watching a military bulldozer work outside of the
Wall. It never came in to destroy the lands within 50
meters. I heard that the political establishment in
Qalqilya wants a third Wall action, which I was
delighted about. The group assembled decided to stay
at the greenhouse, day and night, but John and I chose
to return to Jayyous.
Jayyous Tuesday, August 19, 2003
At Gate Watch this morning, I asked Abu Ali why there
were so few farmers going out to the fields. (Most of
the people who passed were workers on the Wall.) He
said that many farmers were now living on their land,
a development he heartily approves of. He feels that
when farmers live on the land, the power of the Wall
and its gates is neutralized. This is tricky
business, though. If any farmer builds a shed that is
too comfortable or sturdy, it will be demolished by
the Israeli army because the land is zoned for
agriculture and not residence. We had long talks with
our closest partners in Jayyous today about how the
mood in the village had changed since last year, when
the olive trees were first being uprooted to make way
for the Wall. Ahmed said that people are now in
despair; the village united in a campaign of
non-violent resistance, and the Wall was built anyway.
Now the Israeli government has a noose in place,
which it’s slowly tightening around Jayyous’s neck.
I’m convinced that the goal is not land and water
theft, it’s ethnic cleansing. The Israeli government
wants to make the Palestinian communities within 5 or
6 kilometers of the Wall unlivable, forcing the
thousands living there to move deeper into the West
Bank or into another country. Perhaps the plan is
then to repeat this process a little further in, until
the West Bank is virtually Arabrein from the Green
Line to the Jordan River. Sharon’s governing
coalition includes parties that support expulsion of
all Palestinians from Palestine; it seems that the
“moderates” have the same plan, but wish to make it
appear voluntary.
No bulldozer in Qalqilya again today-the oppressor is
patient.

[image from ISM site]

HOWL! tonight


The HOWL! Opening Night Party is this evening at Angel Orensanz Foundation, with stuff and things beginning at 7pm and continuing until 11.
I wrote about the festival earlier, and this kick-off sounds more than passing promising. The details, from their own site:
Wednesday Aug 20th
7:00 PM – 11:00 PM
HOWL! opening night party
Art Salon & Auction
What: 7:00 PM Book Release Party for 2 FEVA publications
Captured – A History of Film and Video on the Lower East Side Created by Clayton Patterson, Designed by Alexandra Bourdelon, Edited by Paul Barlett and Urania Mylonas.
8:30 PM Art Auction & Exhibition on the Bohemian Balcony Curators: James Romberger and Marguerite Van Cook with David Leslie, Steven Kaplan, Gary Ray, Norman Douglas Howl Souvenir Book, edited by Greg Masters
9p.m. Fashion Show
DJ Liquid Todd from K Rock, Go-Go Boys and Girls, Beer and more..
Where: Angel Orensanz Foundation 172 Norfolk St. (between Houston & Stanton)
Tickets: $5.00

I’m definitely going to be there, but since Barry may have to come late, HOWL! and I could both use a few dozen dates.

the blackout blast blog

When the power went off we were upstairs at the Metropolitan Museum. We had just finished walking through the extraordinary “Art of the First Cities” exhibit on one of its very last days, and I had picked up, but not yet paid for, a book in the adjacent little tie-in shop. That whole area of the Museum was immediately thrown into total darkness, but no one was the least upset, and once we were in rooms with natural light, most people, including the guards, seemed not even to have become distracted. There wasn’t a crack of light visible in the “Cities” galleries, so we decided to wander around the grand permanent-collection areas where there was natural light from skylights, until we eventually decided it might be more interesting, if not wiser, to be out on the street. First I slipped around the ropes blocking the men’s room on the first floor (absolutely no light inside, but I knew it well, and I was to be very glad I did that!). I reluctantly gave up my book at another museum shop just outside.
Our only delay getting home was the line of hundreds of people wanting to pick up bags and other interesting stuff from the checkrooms all at just about the same moment. Even now, about a half hour into it, no one seemed to have a clue about the scale of the blackout, but I was beginning to suspect the worse (short of a terrorist attack, which somehow I did not think likely) and I asked a security supervisor about it, since he appeared to have a radio headphone. He told me, “the whole Northeast, including Canada, all the way to Ohio and Michigan.” Heavy.
We walked home at a very relaxed pace, stopping for small meals along the way (gosh, I love hotdogs and brownies!), beginning in Central Park and continuing down 5th Avenue to 42d Street, then to Times Sq. and left down 8th Ave., taking pictures as we went. Arrived home early in the evening. The weather? Like September 11, a beautiful, beautiful day.
When we arrived home on 23rd Street, coming in through the lush interior garden from the north, we found ourselves in the midst of a residents and refugees garden party. There was lots of conviviality, the sharing of food, wine, flashlights and candles, much greeting and talking among people who had never taken time to approach each other before (and a certain number who had, of course), soft songs and one mandolin. We were almost half and half “boys” and “girls,” but we agreed that it was still just about certain that there would be no new babies in this building 9 months from now.
Back in the apartment at first we even had warmish water for showers! We returned to the garden for a spell, until we became overheated by the zillions of tea candles and their truly monstrous relatives. We headed to the roof for a look at the darkened skyline and streets, and of course the Big Dipper, scads of other stars and red Mars itself.
We came down for a walk around the neighborhood where the real life was concentrated in and outside the gay bars on 8th Avenue, with hundreds of barely- (and bearly-) dressed Tom-of-Finland types hanging out in the dark. Pretty impressive group, even by Chelsea standards, but the most significant difference about the street on Thursday night was probably less the extraordinary subtle lighting than the relaxed friendliness and sociability of the guys. “Attitude” had taken a holiday. It felt like a steroid re-creation of the gyms and playing fields of my all-boy prep school or college experience, but here you could fearlessly look at the musculature.
In the end (if not at the very beginning as well), like those schools, it was a pretty dull scene without any women around. Eventually the cold beer ran out and the crowd started to thin.
On our way out the doors of our building we had run into our friend Glenn, and he was trailing a wheeled suitcase, having just arrived from D.C. in circuitous Greyhound routing. Since he lives pretty far out in Williamsburg and intended to go on to Texas the next day, he stayed here that night. The next morning he set off for the airport. We wished him luck. Hope he made it out that same day.
Now we all really understand why, pre-Edison, people went to bed early, and got up early. What do you do after dark, if it stays dark after dark? We tried sleeping, with only some success.
Friday we walked to our Hudson River Park (in the Village, since the Chelsea Piers corporation owns all of our shore in Chelsea), and had a beautiful day. The new park is wonderful. I hope it manages to be maintained properly. On the way back the power went on in the West Village, but we found it was still dark above 14th Street.
Later that afternoon, between 5 and 6, having just about had it with the information shutdown, I got on my bike and zoomed up and down Manhattan from 80th Street to the Battery, visiting both sides of the island. I found that the only neighborhoods which did not yet have power were either the poorest neighborhoods, or those which were the least important as far as corporations are concerned. Coincidence, political calculation, political reality or a reflection of where we build our substations?
Friday night I decided we’d have a relaxed supper on our own terrace, so I moved a small table and a couple of Windsor chairs out with the potted garden, along with some old candle lanterns, linens, and the food which might not last much longer (Italian salamis, cheese, bread, cooked broccoli salad, fresh plums, wine). Sweetpea joined us out there. It was a delightful meal, in circumstances which probably could not and should not be repeated.
I had reluctantly decided, very much against my nature, and for the first time since the lights and the hot water had disappeared, not to wash the dishes immediately. I was going to just rinse them in the dark and finish them the next day in light, with water heated on the old gas stove. But just after I had brought the dishes into the kitchen, I heard a loud roar, cheering actually, coming from the larger garden below, where there was the now familiar assembly of friendly neighbors being very friendly. The power had returned. Bingo! Hot water for dishes. And showers! We rushed to join the group, but by the time we got downstairs they had dispersed into the walls, and the now exotic hum of air conditioners already surrounded us.
Sleep came easily that night.



The images, from the top: tea lights in the garden, 23rd Street in front of our building, guys outside of Rawhide

the blackout beef blog

Updated August 20, with pictures
We’re back. Time Warner somehow managed finally to push the right remote control button exactly two days after electrical power (but, for our building, not their cable) was restored to Chelsea. We now have our connection once again, for email and the internet, and of course for television as well (although I haven’t looked, and now have no need for its sad contribution to news reporting).
As you see, Barry and I have been pretty much out of touch with the world since Thursday morning (We left the apartment early in the afternoon to visit the Metropolitan Museum, where we were when the power went off). This means that I have little idea of what has already been said on line about the events of last week, so I’m going to limit my comments to personal experience – and I guess I’ll use the opportunity to let off a little steam.
First of all, I am so f ___ing furious about the spin we were getting, and still get! Yes, New Yorkers were wonderful, but the people everywhere at the very top (of the political, energy and communications heaps) who are supposed to be responsible for our security and basic services should be boiled in oil. Instead, we’re forever hearing this counter-productive, counter-revolutionary crap about how well we made it through.
For most New Yorkers, at least for those with batteries and portable units, there was nothing but radio for word about what was going on, and that is another problem about which we should be hearing much more from both the cord and remote phone industries. We can at least ask whether it was necessary for our only source of information to give us only what they or the authorities thought would calm us poor children, rather than any real information. I only remember hearing over and over again about how relaxed the City was, about how there was one cooling-off shelter in each borough (one in each?), about calling 311 rather than 911 unless it was a real emergency (how were we going to call any number?) and about the mayor expecting power to be restored very soon, in hours, pretty soon, well, . . . soon, or maybe by some time on Monday. The only practical information I remember hearing (and this from public radio, where I should have expected real reporting and real questions to be asked) was the situation at the airports, certainly not a priority even for New Yorkers not stuck in subways or trying to survive without food or water.
New York did so well, I’m almost surprised we don’t hear some people saying, “Bring it on, again!” – the idea being that we should regularly have this kind of opportunity to prove our mettle and our civic sweetness. Besides selling papers and airtime, it helps the economy – or so the reasoning might go. Even though we know there was no power overload this time, that it was the transmission and other systems that failed, I expect nothing to be done to prevent a recurrence, except what will further enhance the profits of the decision-makers at the top and their paid operatives in Washington, state capitols and cities. Alaskan oil drilling, tax breaks for the oil and gas industry, nuclear energy and countless other destructive rapes of the public and its weal, come to mind immediately. Hey, does anyone remember ENRON? Does anyone recall the vaunted and still very secret Cheney energy meetings that were supposed to result in miracles? The only miracles were the obscene profits of those whose conversations are still kept from us.
Second, do we really have to submit to “Blade Runner”-like assaults by police helicopters? We hardly slept Thursday evening, and the problem was not just the dark, warm, airless room. It was less the heat and humidity that arrested sleep and more the horrendous and mindless whop-clack of the police helicopters (infra-red cameras directed below them in a neighborhood “security” watch) passing every few minutes and hovering directly overhead for a few more, while occasionally and disturbingly shining searchlights onto the ground and the walls outside our rooms. Not knowing at the time how many days and nights this might continue made it even more horrible and obscene.
Can’t the police walk, or pedal, or even drive cars anymore? Did they have to terrorize us (disturbing what peace we might have hoped for) in the name of combating terror (keeping the peace) by remote, and in fact secret, control? These may be rhetorical questions, since there is little doubt that helicopters are considered more fun, more manly, than the alternatives, even as they are less risky for the individual officer. If the police were only interested in preventing lootings or controlling what they consider to be the threat to order represented by the large public housing units in our neighborhood, they would have announced they were going to be haunting us all beforehand, but even after the fact you don’t see any report of their overhead presence, at least in the print media. I figure it’s something like the approach our cops use to catch speeders. In the U.S. they usually try to catch them by hiding; in Europe they are interested in keeping them from speeding in he first place, so they are very visible, especially on dangerous sections of roads.
And finally, why on this tight little island of Manhattan has no one apparently even thought of setting aside at least one or two north-south avenues for emergency vehicles and some routes for pedestrians alone? Why, in the great emergencies unfortunately not unexpected these days, do 10 million people on foot have to compete with the idiots who choose to drive private cars in Manhattan?
Walking down from the Metropolitan, we saw a couple of women try to force their Oldsmobile across Fifth Avenue on 52nd Street through the huge crowd of pedestrians. They nudged a woman pushing a baby carriage. At that moment there were thousands, maybe tens of thousands of pedestrians visible on Fifth Avenue at 52nd Street, and only a handfull of cars and SUVs, each of them carrying but one or two people. And yet the machines still seemed to think they had the right of way – they wouldn’t even pull over when an emergency vehicle was blasting its horn immediately behind them, until people on foot engaged the drivers. All this a habit of 50 years, encouraged by the authorities in the name of “keeping [vehicle] traffic moving.”
In fact we ourselves were really very little inconvenienced, especially compared to the problems experienced by so many others, and compared to what could have happened to all of us.
There are a few pictures below. For the fun part of the blackout, and more pictures, go to the next post, just above this one.



The images, from the top: 5th Avenue, Pennsylvania Station, Public Library steps across from the station

Harvey M would love Harvey F!

Follow-up on my August 2 Harvey Milk High School post
The big guns are still turned on the modest little New York high school which operates as a shelter for kids who really, really need it, and some on the assault team are homosexual.
The media’s special tizzy includes this week’s New York “Intelligencer” page, where 5 out homos are asked what they think about New York City’s plan to expand its queer high school. Four of the interviewees just don’t seem to quite get it, and they include Frank DeCaro, Andrew Solomon, Mistress Formica and Emil Wilbekin. Harvey Milk High may not have been necessary for them, and for the same reason Harvey Milk High probably wouldn’t have enrolled them anyway.
Harvey Fierstein understands the stakes. First he replies to the question, “Were you out in high school?”

“At 13. I went to Art and Design. There was a boy named Pablo who used to breast-feed his baby doll in English class. I was hardly the most outrageous kid in school.”

When asked if he wishes he had gone to a gay high school, he explains of course that his school was a special school, but he understands that even art can’t protect all kids. “Is [a gay high school] a good idea now, in New York of all places?” Harvey:

“The school’s almost twenty years old! They wouldn’t be expanding it if they couldn’t say, ‘Shit, this works.’ This is not for all gay kids. It’s for 14-year-old drag queens who get beaten up daily. Gay teenagers have the highest rate of suicide attempts, and because they’re smart, they very often do it successfully.”

For a pretty comprehensive outline of the issues at stake, see Michael Bronski’s essay in the Boston Phoenix. I like his suggestion for an alternative solution to violence against queer kids in school:

Sending in the National Guard? Well, it was the last resort for integrating public schools in the South in 1950s.

He articulates every argument against the policy of a separate school, but he still can’t conclude that in the real world at this moment the kids could be safe without it.
The school is not the mistake; the mistake is that after almost 20 years we have done nothing to make it unnecessary.