The blogging pages of the Guardian are full of people ranting on about how Hamas are 'The resistance' and how they are perfectly within their rights to kill Israelis.
The logic for this argument is that Israeli military forces have been pounding the Gaza strip and carrying out operations in the West Bank for the past forty one years.
This is worth writing about because it is the perfect example of people looking at a situation and seeing only what they choose to see.
In the eyes of many of these bloggers the Hamas are a modern day equivalent to the French Resistance of World War II, with the Israelis, of course, cast in the role of the Nazi's.
This paints a very simple picture, where it is very clear who the good guys and the bad guys are. This logic is based entirely upon assumption and a product of watching news footage from the Gaza Strip.
There is no reason not to be critical of Israel, no reason not to campaign against Israeli policy vis a vis Palestinians
Israel uses collective punishment as a tool to pressure terrorists, also through a policy of targeted assassinations Israel will inevitably miss and kill Palestinian civilians
This is on top of the checkpoints and general infrastructure involved in a military occupation of an area such as curfew's and cutting off electricity and freedom of movement at will.
If this makes Israel the bad guy in your opinion then you have a great deal to learn about this neighbourhood.
Hamas are not interested in selective assassination of Israeli leaders nor are they interested in forcing the Israeli army out of Palestinian pre 1967 territories, if the truth be told they could have done that years ago.
Hamas are interested in killing as many Israeli civilians as possible!
Hamas are interested in 'reclaiming Muslim lands',
Hamas have enforced a totalitarian regime upon their own people in Gaza, they fire missiles without any form of targeting systems as far into Israeli centres of population as they can in the hope of killing as many civilians as they can.
Hamas urges Palestinian children to blow themselves up amidst Jews
How many times do we have to hear the argument "well when they have nothing to fight with, what else do you expect?" when it comes to suicide bombers. This is the perfect example of assumption rather than knowledge.
If someone is skilled enough to create a suicide bomb vest then they are skilled enough to blow up a military target without using a human bomb.
You can hate what Israel does if you want, I'll even join you in attacking some of the policies of the Israeli government which are often cruel, senseless and do nothing other than invite retaliation.
Disliking Israel does not instantly make Hamas into a group worth defending or sympathising with.
Hamas broadcast day and night their murderous intentions, they will tell anyone who will listen how much they want to kill Jews yet all I see are bloggers defending Hamas based upon their 'assumptions' about Hamas without bothering to read their charter or see any of their translated broadcasts urging children to become suicide bombers
so hey instead of assuming that you know what their intentions are why don't you just see what they have to say?
check out:
http://www.memri.org/palestinian.html
http://www.palestinecenter.org/cpap/documents/charter.html
Friday, 28 March 2008
Wednesday, 26 March 2008
Lost Hopes
There is a village called Kutsra in the west Bank it sits near to Nablus and right next to a Jewish settlement called Migdalim. In 2003 I was based in Migdalim and tasked with patrolling the main stretch of road in the area which ran through three small villages just like Kutsra.
When we would drive into Kutsra the kids there would throw rocks at us and we would throw tear gas and stun grenades at them. They would never throw Molotov cocktails at us and we would never fire our weapons at them, it was an unspoken communication that had developed between us.
One day on the road into Kutsra I decided to try something new, I took the chocolates and sweets that we had with us on those eight hour patrols and kicked the backdoor of the jeep open.
When we were driving into the village I threw the chocolates out one by one to the kids that we drove past, and, instead of pointing my weapon at them I smiled and waved.
We drove further into the village and never came under attack, I kept throwing the sweets and smiling my hello's and more and more kids came out to see what was happening. When we reached the centre of the village we parked up.
Nothing happened, no stones, no aggravation, no nothing. Then the kids that we had been combating on a daily basis for the past month came to the open door of the jeep.
There were between twenty five and thirty of them there, all standing smiling at us, with their beaming eyes. They were between 5 and 10 years old, wearing old, tatty clothes that looked like they were family heir looms. Eventually a tall boy with messy black hair and big, brown eyes took a single step closer to us and pointed at himself saying "Hassan" I pointed to myself and said "Marc" at which point they all giggled.
Our little peace process went on for about fifteen minutes or so until my officer decided to take charge and ordered the driver to move on, reluctantly I waved my goodbyes, closed the door and carried on with the patrol.
I was amazed at what had happened, as much at my own instincts as to the behaviour of the kids. Naturally for the rest of the day I felt pretty good about myself as I continued with my duties thinking about how the next patrols in the village were going to unfold and what kind of relationship we could build up with the kids there.
The next day while occupying a guard tower in Migdalim I could hear gunfire coming from Kutsra, I looked at the village through my binoculars but could see nothing other than the houses on the perimeter. Whatever was going on I was going to have to wait until the patrol got back to hear about it.
Eventually the hummer arrived back in the settlement and I saw a friend get out, he was covered in sweat and grime but was flushed with excitement I asked him what had happened, where the gunfire had come from. "I was pretty bored in there, nothing was happening" he said, "so I decided to fire off a few rounds at a nearby wall just to get things going" was his reply, "and oh boy did that get things going!"
The bastard had gone in there and behaved in the exact opposite way to me, he had ruined all of my work! What had taken me the considerable risk of leaving my vehicle exposed to enemy gunfire to gain the trust of these kids had all been wrecked by this thug, because he was bored!
I went to Israel and joined the army thinking that I was going to change the face of the Middle East! That I was going to single handedly destroy Hamas and look after my people.
My illusions about that were shattered on my first foray into enemy territory but, the one thing that I had done that I was proud of, my one little contribution to making things better had been wiped out in an instant by a fool.
It was only then that I really began to understand what occupation meant, that it is impossible to occupy someone nicely, or with good intentions.
I learnt that it doesn't really matter what one individual soldier says or does or thinks. That it didn't really matter what I said or did at all, the occupation was a living breathing thing with a life of its own and there was nothing at all that I could do about it.
I guess that's the real reason that I left Israel. If I couldn't make a difference then what was the point? I have never looked at the State of Israel in the same way since and yet, I have never managed to shake it from me entirely, in some unspeakable, inescapable way Israel is still a part of me and the wish to return remains, I just don't know what good it would do, or what purpose I would be fulfilling by living there and working the same 9-5 that I work here in London.
When we would drive into Kutsra the kids there would throw rocks at us and we would throw tear gas and stun grenades at them. They would never throw Molotov cocktails at us and we would never fire our weapons at them, it was an unspoken communication that had developed between us.
One day on the road into Kutsra I decided to try something new, I took the chocolates and sweets that we had with us on those eight hour patrols and kicked the backdoor of the jeep open.
When we were driving into the village I threw the chocolates out one by one to the kids that we drove past, and, instead of pointing my weapon at them I smiled and waved.
We drove further into the village and never came under attack, I kept throwing the sweets and smiling my hello's and more and more kids came out to see what was happening. When we reached the centre of the village we parked up.
Nothing happened, no stones, no aggravation, no nothing. Then the kids that we had been combating on a daily basis for the past month came to the open door of the jeep.
There were between twenty five and thirty of them there, all standing smiling at us, with their beaming eyes. They were between 5 and 10 years old, wearing old, tatty clothes that looked like they were family heir looms. Eventually a tall boy with messy black hair and big, brown eyes took a single step closer to us and pointed at himself saying "Hassan" I pointed to myself and said "Marc" at which point they all giggled.
Our little peace process went on for about fifteen minutes or so until my officer decided to take charge and ordered the driver to move on, reluctantly I waved my goodbyes, closed the door and carried on with the patrol.
I was amazed at what had happened, as much at my own instincts as to the behaviour of the kids. Naturally for the rest of the day I felt pretty good about myself as I continued with my duties thinking about how the next patrols in the village were going to unfold and what kind of relationship we could build up with the kids there.
The next day while occupying a guard tower in Migdalim I could hear gunfire coming from Kutsra, I looked at the village through my binoculars but could see nothing other than the houses on the perimeter. Whatever was going on I was going to have to wait until the patrol got back to hear about it.
Eventually the hummer arrived back in the settlement and I saw a friend get out, he was covered in sweat and grime but was flushed with excitement I asked him what had happened, where the gunfire had come from. "I was pretty bored in there, nothing was happening" he said, "so I decided to fire off a few rounds at a nearby wall just to get things going" was his reply, "and oh boy did that get things going!"
The bastard had gone in there and behaved in the exact opposite way to me, he had ruined all of my work! What had taken me the considerable risk of leaving my vehicle exposed to enemy gunfire to gain the trust of these kids had all been wrecked by this thug, because he was bored!
I went to Israel and joined the army thinking that I was going to change the face of the Middle East! That I was going to single handedly destroy Hamas and look after my people.
My illusions about that were shattered on my first foray into enemy territory but, the one thing that I had done that I was proud of, my one little contribution to making things better had been wiped out in an instant by a fool.
It was only then that I really began to understand what occupation meant, that it is impossible to occupy someone nicely, or with good intentions.
I learnt that it doesn't really matter what one individual soldier says or does or thinks. That it didn't really matter what I said or did at all, the occupation was a living breathing thing with a life of its own and there was nothing at all that I could do about it.
I guess that's the real reason that I left Israel. If I couldn't make a difference then what was the point? I have never looked at the State of Israel in the same way since and yet, I have never managed to shake it from me entirely, in some unspeakable, inescapable way Israel is still a part of me and the wish to return remains, I just don't know what good it would do, or what purpose I would be fulfilling by living there and working the same 9-5 that I work here in London.
Wednesday, 19 March 2008
Holocaust What Day?
In the year 2008 I feel that the Holocaust is no longer the Holocaust, that earth shattering, devastating blow that was struck at my people in an effort to wipe us from the planet in our entirety. Not simply to kill us but to do so in the most despicable way, through torture and pseudo-medical experiments in acts of barbarism perpetrated by people from all walks of life such as doctors, lawyers and policemen all being cast into the role of murderers.
For me the Holocaust is MY wound! It was MY people Hitler tried to exterminate it is MY family that would have been murdered if Hitler had succeeded in invading our emerald isle so now why am I forced to watch the Holocaust being wheeled out every year like some kind of political product?
Do I really have to hear those words "Educate so that it never happens again" when I know that in my own lifetime it has happened again all over the world from Rwanda to Bosnia to the Killing Fields and now in Dharfor and once again the supposedly educated Western World watches and does nothing!
What is the point in this so called Holocaust Memorial Day if we stand by and watch while people are killed all over again just for being born? What is the point in all of these political initiatives if when the time comes to stand up to tyranny the world is as deaf and blind as when my people were murdered in their millions?
For me the Holocaust is a festering sore, a wound that no matter how much time passes never really heals, it is not helped by having a Holocaust Memorial Day and having one has not contributed to the British government intervening to prevent other massacres and Holocausts that have occurred and are currently occurring around the world. So what's the point? Better that we bury our dead, say Kaddish and move on with our lives, I do not see how we honor our dead by wheeling them out in front of the UK public once a year.
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