April 17 is commemorated in Palestine as Prisoner’s Day. On that day, family members and friends of the more than 11,000 Palestinians currently imprisoned by the Israeli occupation government gather in cities throughout Palestine to demand their release. Around 800 of these prisoners are held without trial in "Administrative Detention."
This year on Prisoner’s Day, my friend Mousa Abu Maria, a Palestinian activist, was placed in Administrative Detention indefinitely. According to B’Tselem, an Israeli human rights organization, "The authorities use administrative detention as a quick and efficient alternative to criminal trial, primarily when they do not have sufficient evidence to charge the individual… Administrative detainees are not given the reasons for their detention or any opportunity to refute the suspicions against them."
Mousa was clearly targeted because of his role as a main organizer with the Palestine Solidarity Project (PSP). PSP is dedicated to opposing the Israeli occupation of Palestinian land through non-violent direct actions, such as removing illegal roadblocks, cutting fences that separate Palestinians from their land, and demonstrating against the Annexation Wall. The group was founded in the village of Beit Ommar in the Southern West Bank during the summer of 2006.
Early in the morning on April 11th, Israeli army troops broke down the door and invaded the home of the Abu Maria family. Neither Mousa nor his family were told the reason for the arrest or where he was being taken. Two days later, his lawyer finally managed to locate him in the Ofer military jail, but still no reason for his arrest was given. Another day passed before his lawyer was finally told that he was suspected of membership in a terrorist organization. His interrogation turned up no evidence, and even the Israeli prosecutors admitted in writing that there was not enough evidence to put him on trial. For Palestinians, when there is no evidence for a trial, they are simply jailed without one.
This is not the first time the occupation has violently affected Mousa and his family. Mousa was last in the custody of the Shabak (Israel’s version of the FBI) in 1999. He was severely tortured and spent more than a week in the hospital. After serving five years in prison, his mother died three days after his release. This January, Mousa was shot in the head with live ammunition while standing on a rooftop watching an army invasion of his village. He survived with surprisingly little damage, though has shrapnel remaining near his eye. This is just a portion of the tolls the occupation has had on one life.
It is important to remember that his story is not atypical. Mousa’s case is unique only in that he has many Israeli and international friends through the work that he’s done. In less than 48 hours, we collected over 350 letters of support from more than 12 countries on 5 continents. Most Palestinians obviously do not have this assistance.
ACT NOW to support Mousa.
Register your outrage to imprisonment without trial. Please write to the Chief Military Attorney,
Brigadier General Avihai Mandelblit , and demand that Mousa AbuMaria be released immediately.
Below is a suggested draft of a letter addressed to the Chief Military Attorney. Your own version should be emailed from gmail, yahoo hotmail or riseup to:
+97236080366@fax.tc
This will then be faxed to the Chief Military Attorney’s office. Please cc PSP so we can keep track of the letters of support: palestineproject@gmail.com
Those who have a fax machine or do not have an email account at either gmail, yahoo, hotmail or riseup can fax the Chief Military Attorney’s office directly at
972 3 608 0366
Sample letter:
——————————————————————————————————–
Chief Military Attorney
6 David Elazar Street
Tel Aviv
Military postal code 9605,IDF
Fax: +972 3 608 0366
Monday 14th April, 2008
F.A.O: Brigadier General Avihai Mandelblit,
I am writing with regards to the arrest of Mousa AbuMaria on Friday 11th April, 2008 in the village of Beit Ommar, West Bank, Occupied Territories. His lawyers have informed the international community of the conditions surrounding his arrest and said that although there is currently not enough evidence to put him on trial, he may soon be placed in administrative detention.
I would like to highlight my concerns and call on you, the Chief Military Attorney of Israel, to ensure that Mousa is not administratively detained without charge or trial.
Mousa has for many years been a lead organizer in peaceful, non violent protest and worked alongside hundredss of international and Israelis activists in resisting the illegal occupation of Palestinian land. He is well known as a passionate advocate of non violent resistance and has many Israeli and international friends who can vouch for his peaceful political commitments and his character.
I, the undersigned, would like to see this issue addressed through the appropriate channels and ensure that he is released immediately.
Thank you for you time.
Yours sincerely,
(Insert name)
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Philly Remembers AL-Nakba: 60 Days for 60 Years
Check out the work I'm doing in Philly these days.
http://www.phillyalnakba.org and http://sustainphilly.blogspot.com.
http://www.phillyalnakba.org and http://sustainphilly.blogspot.com.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
A year of Palestine
A year ago I was boarding a plane to go to Palestine. At the time I had no idea what I was getting into, no idea how it would change me. On a personal level, I was seeking to make things "real." I'd been doing social justice organizing work since my teens and that work had come almost exclusively from a place of anger. My anger was faceless, both towards those I was fighting in solidarity with, and those I was fighting against. An older activist who I greatly respect once wrote an email to me which she signed off with "warmth and revolution." The phrase struck a chord with me, both because of how much I appreciated the sentiment, and how far it was from my reality. I was beginning to feel how unsustainable organizing out of pure anger was, that movements too needed love to survive. For me this meant that I needed faces and voices and stories.
I chose to focus my work on Palestine because, as a Jew, I felt profoundly lied to and profoundly responsible. I grew up with the common Zionist mantra of "a land without people for a people without land." I was 18 and in college halfway across the country before I heard anything contradicting this. Though resistant at first, I finally began to explore just who these "so-called Palestinians" were and why they wanted "to push us into the sea." The answers I found were shocking. 531 villages were destroyed and 750,000 people fled or were expelled for the founding of Israel. Israel was currently building a wall twice the height of the Berlin Wall and 400 miles long to keep Palestinians out. Over a million Israeli bullets were fired in the first few days of the second Intifada.
Still, these were all just numbers. Quickly those numbers became real people.
Each time something bad happened, despite all I had read, I would be surprised, and each time my Palestinian friends would go out of their way to tell me it was normal. I think there were a lot of reasons why they did that. The most obvious is that they didn't want me to be able to see things as exceptions. The news always portrays atrocities as isolated occurrences, simultaneously glorifying and denouncing them so that nobody has to recognize patterns or examine root causes. I also think that saying "this is normal" to an outsider recognizes that it shouldn't be, and that's an important thing to constantly affirm. There was always a certain calmness about it that I didn't know what to do with. It wasn't quite jaded, or even angry. It was more of a blase toughness – something that just was and that people had to keep fighting through. People talk all the time about suicide bombings, about the violence of Palestinians, and all I could keep wondering while I was there was how there wasn't more violence.
In Arabic, there is a concept called sumoud. The idea was stressed to me throughout my stay. The word doesn't quite translate, but basically it means steadfastness. People remaining on their land in the face of intimidation, violence, economic strangulation, and forced displacement is an act of resistance.
We've all probably heard about what's going on in Gaza right now. Israel has the area under a full blockade. Nothing is being allowed in, including fuel, medicine, or water filters. There is a vast humanitarian crisis underway. Two days ago though, there was a bit of hope. Palestinian militants, in an act of refusal to resign their
fate to the hands of governments, destroyed the majority of the border fence that separates Gaza from Egypt. Over 200,000 Gazans entered Egypt, bought supplies to sustain themselves and their families and, for the most part, returned home. That's sumoud.
Today I have more faces and stories than I sometimes want. I certainly have more love, but I also have more rage. For the first few months after returning home the stories would constantly haunt me. My only two impulses were to either sleep constantly or burn everything I saw remotely relating to the occupation. Bulldozers,
which I now associated with the destruction of houses and trees, made me shake.
My friend Yousef got arrested soon after I came home, and it took all my self control, and lectures by a few good friends, to convince me that the best course of action was not to buy a plane ticket back there. A few days before I left to go to Palestine, I wrote, "One thing I would like to do upon return from my trip is to use my voice to begin to break down the mirage that there is a monolithic Jewish opinion on Israel and its actions." Ultimately, I know I am more useful here. I also would like to hope that when I get the call that the bulldozers have come to Beit Ommar, the village where I lived for three months, bringing with them the long dreaded wall, that I will
drop whatever I am doing and go fight beside my friends.
This May is the 60th anniversary of the founding of Israel, what Palestinians call Al Nakba - The Catastrophe. I am working with a group of people here in Philly to organize 60 days of action leading up to the anniversary. The conflict did not begin with the occupation of the West Bank, Gaza Strip, and East Jerusalem. It began with the violent dispossession of people from their homes, and it will not end until this is recognized and rectified.
I chose to focus my work on Palestine because, as a Jew, I felt profoundly lied to and profoundly responsible. I grew up with the common Zionist mantra of "a land without people for a people without land." I was 18 and in college halfway across the country before I heard anything contradicting this. Though resistant at first, I finally began to explore just who these "so-called Palestinians" were and why they wanted "to push us into the sea." The answers I found were shocking. 531 villages were destroyed and 750,000 people fled or were expelled for the founding of Israel. Israel was currently building a wall twice the height of the Berlin Wall and 400 miles long to keep Palestinians out. Over a million Israeli bullets were fired in the first few days of the second Intifada.
Still, these were all just numbers. Quickly those numbers became real people.
Each time something bad happened, despite all I had read, I would be surprised, and each time my Palestinian friends would go out of their way to tell me it was normal. I think there were a lot of reasons why they did that. The most obvious is that they didn't want me to be able to see things as exceptions. The news always portrays atrocities as isolated occurrences, simultaneously glorifying and denouncing them so that nobody has to recognize patterns or examine root causes. I also think that saying "this is normal" to an outsider recognizes that it shouldn't be, and that's an important thing to constantly affirm. There was always a certain calmness about it that I didn't know what to do with. It wasn't quite jaded, or even angry. It was more of a blase toughness – something that just was and that people had to keep fighting through. People talk all the time about suicide bombings, about the violence of Palestinians, and all I could keep wondering while I was there was how there wasn't more violence.
In Arabic, there is a concept called sumoud. The idea was stressed to me throughout my stay. The word doesn't quite translate, but basically it means steadfastness. People remaining on their land in the face of intimidation, violence, economic strangulation, and forced displacement is an act of resistance.
We've all probably heard about what's going on in Gaza right now. Israel has the area under a full blockade. Nothing is being allowed in, including fuel, medicine, or water filters. There is a vast humanitarian crisis underway. Two days ago though, there was a bit of hope. Palestinian militants, in an act of refusal to resign their
fate to the hands of governments, destroyed the majority of the border fence that separates Gaza from Egypt. Over 200,000 Gazans entered Egypt, bought supplies to sustain themselves and their families and, for the most part, returned home. That's sumoud.
Today I have more faces and stories than I sometimes want. I certainly have more love, but I also have more rage. For the first few months after returning home the stories would constantly haunt me. My only two impulses were to either sleep constantly or burn everything I saw remotely relating to the occupation. Bulldozers,
which I now associated with the destruction of houses and trees, made me shake.
My friend Yousef got arrested soon after I came home, and it took all my self control, and lectures by a few good friends, to convince me that the best course of action was not to buy a plane ticket back there. A few days before I left to go to Palestine, I wrote, "One thing I would like to do upon return from my trip is to use my voice to begin to break down the mirage that there is a monolithic Jewish opinion on Israel and its actions." Ultimately, I know I am more useful here. I also would like to hope that when I get the call that the bulldozers have come to Beit Ommar, the village where I lived for three months, bringing with them the long dreaded wall, that I will
drop whatever I am doing and go fight beside my friends.
This May is the 60th anniversary of the founding of Israel, what Palestinians call Al Nakba - The Catastrophe. I am working with a group of people here in Philly to organize 60 days of action leading up to the anniversary. The conflict did not begin with the occupation of the West Bank, Gaza Strip, and East Jerusalem. It began with the violent dispossession of people from their homes, and it will not end until this is recognized and rectified.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Minneapolis Al Nakba Day Recognition
On Tuesday, May 15, 2007 in front of the Minneapolis Central Library at 12:00pm, members of JFAETTO (Jews For An End To The Occupation) joined the international commemoration of Al Nakba Day, or "Day of Catastrophe". Just as in other cities in around the world.--Boston, San Francisco, Philidelphia, and Tel Aviv, we mapped out a grid and outline of the state of Israel and Occupied Territories and asked passersby to help us put the names of the 531 Palestinian villages destroyed in 1948 back on the map.
After one hour of setting up the event, we were stopped by library security officers for "Defacing Library Property" with sidewalk chalk and electrical tape. Not letting this--or the cold wind--deter us, we moved our event across the street and recreated the map. Over a span of 4 hours, we spoke to many people and placed 100 Palestinian villages on the map. Many people who we asked to help us, did. Some people stopped to argue politics, but most who stopped showed interest and appreciation for a creative way to share important information. A group of high school students stayed for 15 minutes to ask questions and put villages on the map. We were happily surprised by the support from Minneapolis bus drivers who asked questions en route, and yelled variations of, "Keep up the fight!" as they passed. Even after we packed up our things and left, the maps, messages, and names of villages remained, baring witness to the haunting reality of Al Nakba for hundreds more to observe.
International Nakba Day is commemorated annually on May 15th in recognition of the totality of the destruction of Palestinian life in the area that became the state of Israel in 1948 – Palestinian localities, culture, and people. During the 1948 War that led to the creation of the state of Israel, 531 Palestinian villages were destroyed and nearly 800,000 people were expelled. They and their descendents have grown to become the largest and longest-standing refugee population in the world.
If you're interested in learning more about JFAETTO, email jfaetto(at)riseup(dot)net.
After one hour of setting up the event, we were stopped by library security officers for "Defacing Library Property" with sidewalk chalk and electrical tape. Not letting this--or the cold wind--deter us, we moved our event across the street and recreated the map. Over a span of 4 hours, we spoke to many people and placed 100 Palestinian villages on the map. Many people who we asked to help us, did. Some people stopped to argue politics, but most who stopped showed interest and appreciation for a creative way to share important information. A group of high school students stayed for 15 minutes to ask questions and put villages on the map. We were happily surprised by the support from Minneapolis bus drivers who asked questions en route, and yelled variations of, "Keep up the fight!" as they passed. Even after we packed up our things and left, the maps, messages, and names of villages remained, baring witness to the haunting reality of Al Nakba for hundreds more to observe.
International Nakba Day is commemorated annually on May 15th in recognition of the totality of the destruction of Palestinian life in the area that became the state of Israel in 1948 – Palestinian localities, culture, and people. During the 1948 War that led to the creation of the state of Israel, 531 Palestinian villages were destroyed and nearly 800,000 people were expelled. They and their descendents have grown to become the largest and longest-standing refugee population in the world.
If you're interested in learning more about JFAETTO, email jfaetto(at)riseup(dot)net.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
PALESTINE: An Evening of Short Films and Discussion
Check out this event, featuring a few of my films.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
My Friend is Out
Hi Everyone,
Just wanted to follow up and let y'all know that my friend Yousef is out of prison on $750 bail, and is doing okay. He is being charged with destruction of property, but no trial date is set yet from what I could find out. Thanks to everyone who gave money or sent words of support - this isn't over yet though. The cost of the lawyer to appear at his first hearing was $500, and if he goes to trial it will be another $2000. To donate, go to http://palestinesolidarityproject.org/donate.
I also finally got the rest of my pictures back. To see the pictured of the fence around the Karme Tsur settlement that farmers must pass through to work their land, go to www.bubbleshare.com/album/154067.
For those of you in Minneapolis, there is a conference coming up I'd highly recommend you check out, especially if you're looking to become more involved. I am involved in the Cafe Intifada in the evening, which is an interactive theatre piece definitely worth checking out. I might also be speaking a bit at the conference, but I'm not sure about that yet.
Thanks again for all your support. It means a lot to me and my friends.
Just wanted to follow up and let y'all know that my friend Yousef is out of prison on $750 bail, and is doing okay. He is being charged with destruction of property, but no trial date is set yet from what I could find out. Thanks to everyone who gave money or sent words of support - this isn't over yet though. The cost of the lawyer to appear at his first hearing was $500, and if he goes to trial it will be another $2000. To donate, go to http://palestinesolidarityproject.org/donate.
I also finally got the rest of my pictures back. To see the pictured of the fence around the Karme Tsur settlement that farmers must pass through to work their land, go to www.bubbleshare.com/album/154067.
For those of you in Minneapolis, there is a conference coming up I'd highly recommend you check out, especially if you're looking to become more involved. I am involved in the Cafe Intifada in the evening, which is an interactive theatre piece definitely worth checking out. I might also be speaking a bit at the conference, but I'm not sure about that yet.
Thanks again for all your support. It means a lot to me and my friends.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
