This Israeli documentary about the plight of young Palestinian men trying to cope by having to find menial work in an Israeli market is, I suppose, well meant. But it also displays that curiously gentle and evasive tone that supposedly sympathetic Israelis seem to possess. While sympathising with the Palestinian youths there is never any criticism of the Israeli government policy dictating their plight.
I appreciate the glimpse into this sordid world. The young men affect a jauntiness, which is the right of all young people, but there is a long silent moment when we see in the eyes and visage of the main protagonist his deep and utter despair. It is the still centre of the entire documentary.
The Israeli employer of this young man is decent enough in his way. He pretends a father/son relation. He feels for him. He has wife trouble and apparently no children and this young man means something to him. When the authorities make it impossible for the Palestinian to work in Israel, the employer shows human sympathy. But not once does he criticise his government. Instead the usual blurring of the truth by wishing for peace without acknowledging that Israel holds 95% of the power to make it. This wilful act of innocence.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Saturday, September 18, 2010
A KIWI VOICE: ROGER FOWLER
I've been in many campaigns at a community level. We had a picket of probably 200 people and Muldoon came out and I happened to be in the way and he threw a punch at me and I can still picture him standing in the middle of Queen Street yelling out: I'll take you on one at a time! Yeah, I've been involved in some pretty hairy events over the years.
It was certainly a tragic stand-off in the last peace flotilla, but our hope is that there be so many people involved the Israelis would be extremely stupid to do anything outlandish. It's pretty scarey, yeah, and it just shows you the desperation that the Israeli military sometimes will descend to.
We weighed up the pros and the cons, and the pro was here were one and a half million people in a desperate situation. On the other hand were the big cons, a whole lot of reasons, really good reasons why we shouldn't go or shouldn't do anything about it. Of course, we come down on the side, yes, we have to go.
This is going to be an international convoy and it's important that Kiwis are part of that. I was very apprehensive [when my son wanted to join up] but I respect his wishes and, yes, I'm extremely proud of him.
My personal feelings and anxiety don't even come into the picture compared to the desperation of the people of Gaza. There's one and a half million people there living in a tiny sliver of land which is as big as East Coast Bays here in Auckland, up to Browns Bay. That's how big it is. Everywhere you look it's completely desperate.
Some consumable items are allowed in. It takes a long time for them to get in and they're only dribbling in. The people of Gaza now have the luxury of being able to get chocolates and mayonnaise and things of that nature, but I'm sorry, their need is much more desperate than that. I mean, the country's been bombed to shreds. They can't get building material to rebuild their houses. They can't even get a bag of cement.
It's one of many [pressing issues the world faces] but the main thing that differentiates this issue from everything else is that it's a man-made issue. The people of Gaza are suffering, and suffering every day, 24x7, as a direct result of Israeli government policy, and that can be changed.
It is definitely a stand. We also know about our peace flotilla in Auckland which changed the situation where we were having unwanted nuclear warships visiting our harbours and we were able to turn that around.
All packed and ready to go. I would hope that one day if my grandchildren ever ask me what did you do Poppy to try and stop the wars in this world, that I'm not going to be stumped for an answer.
It was certainly a tragic stand-off in the last peace flotilla, but our hope is that there be so many people involved the Israelis would be extremely stupid to do anything outlandish. It's pretty scarey, yeah, and it just shows you the desperation that the Israeli military sometimes will descend to.
We weighed up the pros and the cons, and the pro was here were one and a half million people in a desperate situation. On the other hand were the big cons, a whole lot of reasons, really good reasons why we shouldn't go or shouldn't do anything about it. Of course, we come down on the side, yes, we have to go.
This is going to be an international convoy and it's important that Kiwis are part of that. I was very apprehensive [when my son wanted to join up] but I respect his wishes and, yes, I'm extremely proud of him.
My personal feelings and anxiety don't even come into the picture compared to the desperation of the people of Gaza. There's one and a half million people there living in a tiny sliver of land which is as big as East Coast Bays here in Auckland, up to Browns Bay. That's how big it is. Everywhere you look it's completely desperate.
Some consumable items are allowed in. It takes a long time for them to get in and they're only dribbling in. The people of Gaza now have the luxury of being able to get chocolates and mayonnaise and things of that nature, but I'm sorry, their need is much more desperate than that. I mean, the country's been bombed to shreds. They can't get building material to rebuild their houses. They can't even get a bag of cement.
It's one of many [pressing issues the world faces] but the main thing that differentiates this issue from everything else is that it's a man-made issue. The people of Gaza are suffering, and suffering every day, 24x7, as a direct result of Israeli government policy, and that can be changed.
It is definitely a stand. We also know about our peace flotilla in Auckland which changed the situation where we were having unwanted nuclear warships visiting our harbours and we were able to turn that around.
All packed and ready to go. I would hope that one day if my grandchildren ever ask me what did you do Poppy to try and stop the wars in this world, that I'm not going to be stumped for an answer.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
A KIWI VOICE: NICOLA ENCHMARCH
I'm not used to the sound of gunfire and I hope I don't hear it again. As a New Zealander and coming from a peaceful country and not being exposed to such violence you go back and think wow actually that was all a bit crazy being up on the upper deck with the bullets flying around everywhere.
There was nothing in our planning that involved any form of defence or violence. We knew something was going to happen. We thought they may have just tried to block us. [Israeli boats were] chasing. It is one memory that I probably won't forget and stands in my mind is the sound of the engine of the Mavi Marmara accelerating before I even reached up to the upper deck. At the same time the helicoptor started hovering over the roof of the boat.
[The sound of weapons] penetrates into your hearing so deep. You're trying to work out what's going on. It's very disorientating. It's very hard to tell where it's coming from. I know it's coming from the zodiacs and I know it's coming from up in the roof and it's coming down the starboard side of the boat which I was standing on. There was so much noise. They were landing everywhere.
I thought I had [taken cover] by going near the top of the boat so the helicoptor was obscured behind it. I'm automatically thinking there's no way they would attack this flotilla using live ammunition. It just doesn't even enter the head that they would use live ammunition. I'm thinking rubber bullets.
The first fatality was a photographer. He was holding his camera up to take photographs up on the roof and he received a bullet in the forehead. So I knelt down next to him, put my hand under his head, not thinking, and then I realised the extent of his injuries. This was the realisation that things had got crazy. He was still breathing. I understood the sound of the breathing from when my grandfather died. So I knew he didn't have long. I just held his hand. I just thought his family wasn't there. I thought this brave man, who was only taking a photograph, is alone and it's his last moments.
What we went through on that flotilla, from being shot at, killed, bound for long lengths of time, this is what the Palestinians live with every day. Every day.
This blockade has to stop. It can't go on. These people have the right to rebuild their lives, rebuild Gaza.
I can speak for myself, and I can speak for my colleagues, and I can speak for the people who were also part of the Viva Palestina convoy, is that you are fixed on that goal, that's all you think about, breaking that siege and getting into Gaza and delivering humanitarian aid, having the world understand that this is not acceptable.
I find it very difficult to rationalise how you can be self-defending when you are the one that's committing the attack. So the Mavi Marmara and the other boats in the flotilla were on course. They were in international waters. There were no arms in these boats.
I have seen the images that the Israelis have put out of knives. Those knives came from the kitchen of the boat. They've sticks. Every passenger is part of the instruction, quite categorically were told under no circumstances must they take on board anything that is remotely conceived as a weapon.
I was searched and then I was handcuffed and then I was taken up to the upper deck. Already outside on their knees, hands bound behind were two rows of men that were already bound. Some were blindfolded. So the decks started to fill up with all of these people, all bound, were yelled at, told to shut up, we have the guns pointed at us. We were detained outside the boat, on the decks, in that position, for several hours. As the sun came up, while we were out there, they were trashing the inside of the boat. So everyone's luggage was opened, cameras, money. We saw possessions being taken out, video footage, everything.
[Then] to be shoved into the prison van that can only hold three people, and being locked in there and not being able to do anything about it.
It was horrendous that nine had to die on a humanitarian flotilla. They were aid workers, humanitarian aid workers. There was a boy of nineteen years old, he was at the beginning of his life, he was shot five times.
I don't look [to die for this cause]. I don't think my mother would appreciate it! I would give the most that I can. I believe that you don't stop trying. You've got to keep trying with this.
I get a lot of lectures when I go home. Don't do it again. But we are. We're doing another land convoy.
I'm just committed to believing that the Palestinians have a right to exist as you and I do.
There was nothing in our planning that involved any form of defence or violence. We knew something was going to happen. We thought they may have just tried to block us. [Israeli boats were] chasing. It is one memory that I probably won't forget and stands in my mind is the sound of the engine of the Mavi Marmara accelerating before I even reached up to the upper deck. At the same time the helicoptor started hovering over the roof of the boat.
[The sound of weapons] penetrates into your hearing so deep. You're trying to work out what's going on. It's very disorientating. It's very hard to tell where it's coming from. I know it's coming from the zodiacs and I know it's coming from up in the roof and it's coming down the starboard side of the boat which I was standing on. There was so much noise. They were landing everywhere.
I thought I had [taken cover] by going near the top of the boat so the helicoptor was obscured behind it. I'm automatically thinking there's no way they would attack this flotilla using live ammunition. It just doesn't even enter the head that they would use live ammunition. I'm thinking rubber bullets.
The first fatality was a photographer. He was holding his camera up to take photographs up on the roof and he received a bullet in the forehead. So I knelt down next to him, put my hand under his head, not thinking, and then I realised the extent of his injuries. This was the realisation that things had got crazy. He was still breathing. I understood the sound of the breathing from when my grandfather died. So I knew he didn't have long. I just held his hand. I just thought his family wasn't there. I thought this brave man, who was only taking a photograph, is alone and it's his last moments.
What we went through on that flotilla, from being shot at, killed, bound for long lengths of time, this is what the Palestinians live with every day. Every day.
This blockade has to stop. It can't go on. These people have the right to rebuild their lives, rebuild Gaza.
I can speak for myself, and I can speak for my colleagues, and I can speak for the people who were also part of the Viva Palestina convoy, is that you are fixed on that goal, that's all you think about, breaking that siege and getting into Gaza and delivering humanitarian aid, having the world understand that this is not acceptable.
I find it very difficult to rationalise how you can be self-defending when you are the one that's committing the attack. So the Mavi Marmara and the other boats in the flotilla were on course. They were in international waters. There were no arms in these boats.
I have seen the images that the Israelis have put out of knives. Those knives came from the kitchen of the boat. They've sticks. Every passenger is part of the instruction, quite categorically were told under no circumstances must they take on board anything that is remotely conceived as a weapon.
I was searched and then I was handcuffed and then I was taken up to the upper deck. Already outside on their knees, hands bound behind were two rows of men that were already bound. Some were blindfolded. So the decks started to fill up with all of these people, all bound, were yelled at, told to shut up, we have the guns pointed at us. We were detained outside the boat, on the decks, in that position, for several hours. As the sun came up, while we were out there, they were trashing the inside of the boat. So everyone's luggage was opened, cameras, money. We saw possessions being taken out, video footage, everything.
[Then] to be shoved into the prison van that can only hold three people, and being locked in there and not being able to do anything about it.
It was horrendous that nine had to die on a humanitarian flotilla. They were aid workers, humanitarian aid workers. There was a boy of nineteen years old, he was at the beginning of his life, he was shot five times.
I don't look [to die for this cause]. I don't think my mother would appreciate it! I would give the most that I can. I believe that you don't stop trying. You've got to keep trying with this.
I get a lot of lectures when I go home. Don't do it again. But we are. We're doing another land convoy.
I'm just committed to believing that the Palestinians have a right to exist as you and I do.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
TROUBLED WATERS
Troubled waters. A rather whimsical title for the content it heads up. Almost romantic. Mills and Boon. Gentle and evasive. The title for an Israeli documentary about two of eighteen Jewish families who live on Palestinian land in Gaza around 2000, and who fish from the same beach as Palestinians.
These Israeli settlers are not fanatics, one father is a professed left-winger, but nevertheless the parents possess this gentle and evasive self-centredness. A quiet will to dominate. If the fact of illegal settlement is completely overlooked it is so easy to blame the Arabs. Superficially there is this hail fellow well met friendship with the Palestinian fisherman. They sit on the beach and eat together. But it is all completely phoney.
The larger political scene brings into being the second Intifada. Immediately one father demands of the military that they destroy Palestinian crops. Those bastards want to harm innocent children. If they take something of ours, we will take something of theirs. If they harm us we will harm them 10 times over.
Meanwhile aerial bombardment of Gaza is compared to Palestinian gunfire. When they shoot at night and the kids are terrified we don't feel safe. Meanwhile there is devastation in Gaza following helicopter assault. With satisfied looks they watch TV showing terrified Palestinian children and learning that there is one dead and over fifty wounded. Let them fear a bit.
Then one of the women phones a Palestinian fisherman. Why? Is it some undetected need to fraternise? Is it a hidden wish to hear that the other suffers? The Palestinian gives nothing away. The woman then applies guilt. You have turned us into paupers, we have no money. Things could be better you know.
That war criminal Sharon comes into office and these few settlers are given increased security, funding and flasher homes with swimming pools. Still they complain while Palestinian agriculture remains erased from the land. Having just made them comfortable Sharon then decides to embark upon his scheme to lock up Gaza and focus on the West Bank. The settlers have to leave. They wallow in increased self-pity.
An unmarried man lives with one of the families. He us quite glad to be moving into Israel. Why? Apparently more chance to get married. Picking grapes with one of the children he asks: You know whose vines these are? Arabs who used to live here. Their homes were demolished. They had the cream of the land out here. Now it's ours. Is he teaching the child to pity or to gloat? The ambiguity encompasses both possibilities at the same time, resulting in moral stultification.
But a ray of hope. One of the daughters tells her father that she has no problem with the Arabs. When she was younger she saw more of them than Grandma. Left-wing father says to her: This is Israel. She replies: No it is not. He responds: This is Greater Israel. May that young woman retain her genuine integrity and not be smothered by national conditioning.
At the very end as they leave one of the women declare: All of this goes to the Arabs. As if it was not theirs before and should not be theirs in the future.
These Israeli settlers are not fanatics, one father is a professed left-winger, but nevertheless the parents possess this gentle and evasive self-centredness. A quiet will to dominate. If the fact of illegal settlement is completely overlooked it is so easy to blame the Arabs. Superficially there is this hail fellow well met friendship with the Palestinian fisherman. They sit on the beach and eat together. But it is all completely phoney.
The larger political scene brings into being the second Intifada. Immediately one father demands of the military that they destroy Palestinian crops. Those bastards want to harm innocent children. If they take something of ours, we will take something of theirs. If they harm us we will harm them 10 times over.
Meanwhile aerial bombardment of Gaza is compared to Palestinian gunfire. When they shoot at night and the kids are terrified we don't feel safe. Meanwhile there is devastation in Gaza following helicopter assault. With satisfied looks they watch TV showing terrified Palestinian children and learning that there is one dead and over fifty wounded. Let them fear a bit.
Then one of the women phones a Palestinian fisherman. Why? Is it some undetected need to fraternise? Is it a hidden wish to hear that the other suffers? The Palestinian gives nothing away. The woman then applies guilt. You have turned us into paupers, we have no money. Things could be better you know.
That war criminal Sharon comes into office and these few settlers are given increased security, funding and flasher homes with swimming pools. Still they complain while Palestinian agriculture remains erased from the land. Having just made them comfortable Sharon then decides to embark upon his scheme to lock up Gaza and focus on the West Bank. The settlers have to leave. They wallow in increased self-pity.
An unmarried man lives with one of the families. He us quite glad to be moving into Israel. Why? Apparently more chance to get married. Picking grapes with one of the children he asks: You know whose vines these are? Arabs who used to live here. Their homes were demolished. They had the cream of the land out here. Now it's ours. Is he teaching the child to pity or to gloat? The ambiguity encompasses both possibilities at the same time, resulting in moral stultification.
But a ray of hope. One of the daughters tells her father that she has no problem with the Arabs. When she was younger she saw more of them than Grandma. Left-wing father says to her: This is Israel. She replies: No it is not. He responds: This is Greater Israel. May that young woman retain her genuine integrity and not be smothered by national conditioning.
At the very end as they leave one of the women declare: All of this goes to the Arabs. As if it was not theirs before and should not be theirs in the future.
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