On Being a Palestinian inside Israel (Oct. 28, 2022

Here’s the thing: Duaa is a citizen of Israel, but/and she is Palestinian. She works part time at the Palestine Institute for Biodiversity and Sustainability (PIBS) as a biologist, and full time as a high school teacher in a public school for Palestinian children. She is one of the 20% of Israelis who are Arab Palestinians. I have found it difficult to wrap my head around this fact: that the Palestinian Muslim woman I am talking to is an Israeli. Under her hijab and modest dress is a strong, independent and politically aware professional woman. And she is not bothered by being 34 and unmarried. When I asked her to tell her story, in order to help Americans back home feel connected to the people of Palestine, she wanted to start with the story of her village, Beit Safafa. She explained that in 1949, when the boundary outlining the new state of Israel was traced on a map and called the Green Line, it was drawn right through the middle of her village. So half the village was inside Israel, and the other not. Jordan was in control of the other half, which fell within the Jordanian territory known as the West Bank. On the Israeli side of the village Palestinians were made citizens of Israel, given Israeli IDs and passports, and educated in Israeli schools and universities. They were able to seek employment in Israeli businesses with Israeli salaries and benefits, like health insurance. The villagers on the Jordanian side of the Green Line did not have access to good paying jobs or benefits, although they could access good educations in the Arab world. When Jordan lost control of the West Bank in the ’67 war – the start of the Israeli military occupation—Beit Safafa was physically reunited but still divided by citizen status. Those with Israeli IDs could pass that status down to their children, who tended to look down on their neighbors who had Palestinian IDs. Another big benefit of having an Israeli ID is the freedom to travel. They can drive around Israel and enter Jerusalem. Those with a Palestinian ID cannot enter Jerusalem or Israel without a permit--not easy to get. And their freedom of movement inside the West Bank is interrupted by walls, checkpoints, segregated roads, and settler violence. The village is only now beginning to overcome its segregated attitudes, as they are more aware of what unites them – Israel’s discrimination against Palestinians, whether citizens or not – and the fact that their village is totally surrounded by Israeli settlements . As a public school teacher living inside the Green Line, Duaa is employed by the Israeli Ministry of Education. The curriculum at her school is controlled by Israel, which forbids her to teach about the “Nakba” (Catastrophe), of 1948, when 2/3’s of the population of Palestine was expelled from their homes and villages by Jewish militias. Neither can she comment on any current protest against Israel’s oppressive occupation. Since Duaa teaches biology, this is not much of an issue for her, but her students come to school bringing the events of their daily lives under occupation with them, and of course they talk among themselves. One of her students had her home demolished by the Israeli army, and one lost a cousin to an Israeli bullet. Luckily, there are counseling services at the school. Duaa’s father has an Israeli ID, while her mother does not. So, Duaa struggles with identity, as she thinks many Palestinians living in Israel do. Should they identify more with Israel because they are citizens, or with Palestine, because they are Palestinian. Duaa defines herself as a Palestinian with an Israeli passport. Duaa has a sister and two brothers. Her older sister, married with 2 children, has lived in Africa a total of 5 years, between South Africa and Kenya. She is an artist and now teaches art in a Palestinian school . One brother has joined their father in his business as a bakery/catering service. Her youngest brother works as an accountant for an Israeli business. Again, my mind says, “But wait, why would he want to work for the oppressor?” forgetting that her brother is also Israeli, and the good paying jobs with benefits are there. Duaa herself is an educator/trainer of other Palestinian teachers, but her supervisor is an Israeli Jew, and she has co-workers who are Jews. I shake my head. I see why identity is an issue. Her message to my audiences in the U.S.? Realize that this (the occupation) is injustice. It is not a “conflict” where the two sides can learn to love each other. One side is the oppressor and the other side is the oppressed. It is not based on hate or religion. It is a colonial system. Duaa says, “It feels like history is repeating itself, because before us Africa was colonized. This is not anti-semitism . Absolutely not. And it needs to end, and that’s it.” Will she vote in the Israeli election Nov 1? No. She did vote twice, but not anymore, because it won’t make any difference in her life.

Grim Results of Israel's Apartheid. And a Story

My friend Michel runs a Palestinian, geo-political, tour guide agency. Grit and persistence keep it going, as tourism has dropped due to Covid. I asked for his assessment of the recent increase in settler and Israeli army violence against Palestinians. (Over 200 Palestinians, mostly civilians, and journalists Shireen Abu Akleh and Ghurfan Huran have been killed so far this year.) And what effect would the upcoming Israeli elections have on this situation? One of Michel’s tour guides, who had just served us Arabic coffee, answered first. She thought the candidates for Prime Minister of Israel were competing for who would be the toughest on Palestinians, thus spurring on instead of restraining, acts of violence like uprooting olive trees, attacking farmers and even international supporters as they attempted to harvest or work their land, vandalizing cars, and praying at the Al Aqsa Mosque in Jerusalem. I had read about all of these acts over the last few months, and asked if this incitement to violence would subside after the elections? “Maybe; but maybe the winner will set about implementing the threats made during the campaign.” Michel pointed out that the majority of the Israeli Knesset are now settlers, and will act to protect their interests and to satisfy their (settler) constituents. He likened today’s atmosphere of fear and aggression to the 1930’s when the Jewish underground was armed and very active (with British support) against the native Palestinian population. He didn’t hold out hope that the situation would improve after the election, though Israel might turn its attention away from internal policy and toward appeasing international concerns about the clear violations of Palestinian rights, settler aggression, and killings. “The only hope lies in Europe waking up, he added. American will never be a fair broker, Russia doesn’t care, and Asia is focused on trade.” I didn’t get to ask Michel, who was about to start a staff meeting, if he thought Europe would wake up, but there is no evidence that the Western world is about to defy the United States in order to change the course of events in Palestine and Israel. Finally, I asked what I should say to my community back home. I will be asked to give talks… “They will not understand. The only way to understand is to come here. And anything you say against Israel will be attacked by the media. But, do tell our stories. So, dear readers, here is a story that I offer to illustrate that Palestinians are not all of one mind. Jihan is a mother of 3, the youngest only 5 months old. She works part time at the Museum as a Biologist. She is married to a Greek Orthodox priest. (Note: It is only Roman Catholic priests who cannot marry.) As I know from a friend Stateside that being married to a minister can be challenging, I asked her about that. She admitted that it is hard being married to a priest due to his many duties that require a strict diet and periods of celibacy. But her discontent lay elsewhere. Sadly, Jilian would like to leave Palestine. She said that Muslims discriminate against the Christian minority, and beside that her grandmother is Lebanese. Palestinians don’t like the Lebanese because of their more “liberal” life-style, and Jilian feels that prejudice even though she dresses conservatively. (The Lebanese don’t like Palestinians either, maybe because of that very prejudice. The thousands of Palestinians in refugee camps in Lebanon are not allowed passports nor work permits.) As part-Lebanese, and as wife of a priest, and as a Christian in a majority Muslim country, Jihan does not feel she belongs anywhere. I let her sadness sink in, and then asked where would she go, if she could? “Anywhere were people love each other.” Then, as if knowing that that place doesn't exist, she added, “ People suffer everywhere; I would like them to be happy. I try to be loving to everyone “so they will feel it.”