Another email sent to us pointed out an article in the Guardian from 2003, in which British MPs compare Gaza to the Warsaw ghetto.

MPs compare Gaza to Warsaw ghetto
http://www.guardian.co.uk/israel/Story/0,2763,980744,00.html

Labour MP Ms King, who is Jewish, said Gaza was “the same in nature” as the
infamous Polish ghetto. “No government should be behaving like that - least of
all a Jewish government,” the Bethnal Green and Bow MP said.

...

Referring to Warsaw, scene of the historic uprising by its Jewish
inhabitants, Ms King said: “It is the same in nature but not extent.”

Those silly Brits. I mean, colour? Where do you get a "u"?

I might as well mention that we are a decentralized collective of posters and not all material necessarily represents everyone's opinion, blah, blah, blah... I, for instance, disagree with the notion that Palestine = Warsaw or whatever. But it's all part of the discussion.

Back with another guest post, this time about Deheishe refugee camp in Bethlehem. If you've got something to contribute, email us at bethlehembloggers@gmail.com and we just may put it up, if we've got space, because as you can see we've had so many posts lately not everything can fit. Aren't I funny That green "?" is just a gratuitous use of Blogger's new image upload feature. Looks like it works. Excellent.

Is Deheishe a Graveyard?
By Howard Taylor for the Middle East Delegation
July 31, 2005

"I was born here and I hope I will not die here", said a 40 year old resident of Deheishe, a refugee camp just outside Bethlehem. To say refugee camp might lead you to think of temporary dwellings and a cluster of UN tents. This is not the picture of Deheishe. Some cemeteries stack corpses on top of corpses as years go by and there isn't enough land to lay them side-by-side. In Deheishe, the living are stacked up one on top of the other, in cement houses piled on top of the original one story room. As families grow their apartments' stack gets taller.

Deheishe was established in 1948 as temporary housing for 3,000 refugees, each family allotted one 12 by 12 foot concrete room. Fifty-seven years later Deheishe is a warren of three and four story apartments housing about 12,000 people, 62% of whom are children. The apartments and infrastructure are incomplete, always in varying stages of building or disrepair, held together with whatever materials that can be salvaged.

Who are the refugees?

The refugees of Deheishe are displaced people, most of who were forced from their homes near West Jerusalem in 1948. In many ways, they have maintained their village identity in the camp all these years. But, the camp has never been a permanent home for them, even as the decades have passed and they remain. Many people here have ownership papers for homes and land in the villages they were forced to leave. The Israeli courts are unable or unwilling to process their claims. Two-thirds of the adults in the camp have personally experienced jail and since whole families are refused work when one member has been jailed, there is little hope for work.

Still they remain hopeful. As one man said, "All we need is a little justice - that's all."

In the midst of all of this, people here try to carry on a normal life for their families as best they can. One evening, we sat drinking tea with a family under the grape arbors that shade their porch. Viewed from outside the camp is crowded and trash is left in the streets, but inside the apartments are clean and well kept. There is a pride of place, even if this can't truly be considered their home. People here are hospitable and very happy to share what little they have.

On Friday evening, we walked over to the brand new Al Feneiq community center. The place was packed with people of all ages - a wedding in the banquet hall, children on the playground, teenagers laughing and talking; adults sharing stories, hopes and dreams. The large garden is a place for everyone to gather and children to play on grass for perhaps the first time. A few years ago when the Israeli military evacuated some land adjacent to the camp, the residents of Deheishe had hoped to expand the area of the camp to relieve some of the overcrowding. But when only a small area of the land was allotted for the camp, residents decided to use it to benefit everyone in the camp.

As wonderful as it is, the center can't erase the difficulties of living in this concrete graveyard; this patch of grass doesn't relieve the overcrowded conditions or the lack of work. It cannot bring back relatives from prison, or replace the homes and lands lost. But the center is a source of pride and a ray of hope in an otherwise dark existence. The community life here is what makes Deheishe a place to live, and not simply to survive. But how long must the people of Deheishe live in a graveyard?

The following piece was written by Alyssa, an American currently staying in Beit Sahour. Al Khader is a village on the southern side of Bethlehem.

Yesterday, 27 July 2005, I witnessed for the first time the horror and tragedy of not one, but two house demolitions. Early yesterday morning I was informed by some colleagues that two homes in the village of Al Khader were going to be demolished shortly. We quickly organized a group and left the office to stand in peaceful protest and solidarity with the families of these homes.

When we arrived at the "protest" there were already a group of locals gathered and we added to the mix 3 Americans and 5 Palestinians. Collectively, our group began the descent towards the Israeli jeeps that were ready to confront us. Led by the Palestinian flag, we marched directly up to the Israeli soldiers and one of our group 'leaders' informed them that this was a peaceful protest and all that we wanted was to stand with the families while their homes were being demolished. Unfortunately we were met with soldiers that were not concerned with acting non-violently and they immediatley began physically pushing the men on our 'front line' back. This prevention of our ability to move was not only infuriariting but illegal as well. The
soldiers also forcefully tried to take the Palestinian flag out of the hands of one of the men, telling us some non-sense about being able to stand there, but not being able to hold the flag if we were going to remain in the area. When they realized the flag was not going to be surrenderd, we began again trying to work our way closer to the site through rational and peaceful discussion. As our 'leaders' continued speaking, the steady sound of voices was soon sliced and shattered with a noise that completely broke my heart.

I heard first the screeching of the demolition crane followed by the torturous squeaking of the bulldozer - and in front of my very eyes I watched as a home was completely destroyed. As my eyes took in the evil sight, my ears went deaf and my head began to spin. It was as if the entire world had stopped moving and I was the only one who existed in that moment, just me and that crane, that horrible, ugly, monstrous crane. In this same moment I realized that I could no longer hold it together. I fell to my knees and sobbed. My heart was so full of grief and my head was so full of confusion. How could any human possibly do this to another? How can the men, operating those vehicles sleep at night? How did such evil ever become okay in this world and where were all of the people who did not think that this was in fact okay? Even though I was surrounded by many people, I felt so alone. My heart was in painful agony for the families, the Palestinian people and humanity in general. I did not think that my tears would ever run dry.

As I looked up through my blurred vision, I saw that most of the Palestinian men had gathered in a line, standing face to face with the IDF. As the demolition continued, I watched as these men grabbed the hands of those next to them, intertwined their fingers and raised their arms symbolizing to the family that this tragedy was not going unnoticed. Of course the realization of how many millions of people would live their lives completely oblivious to these disgusting acts of terrorism and humiliation made my tears flow even more.

After both homes were demolished, the soldiers continued to refuse entry to the sites. However, I played my American card and told them that I was going up and that it was probably not wise to stop me. As I walked towards the rubble of the homes my heart was pounding. I turned a corner and saw the first heap. Stone, steel, wood, all kinds of material whose purposes were now indecipherable. It was hard to tell that this had actually been a home. Three children were sitting on top
of the rubble, not saying a thing, just looking. I couldn't handle it, I turned to leave. As I was turning to escape the horror before me, I saw out of the corner of my eye, under a tree with his face in his hands, the owner of the home. He must have been around 70 years old. He was weeping.

Next to this man was a pile of chairs and table, some tapestries, etc. Asking my colleague about this pile he replied "It's what they were able to salvage in an hour. That's how quick the notice is. The IDF shows up with the caterpillar and crane and tells them they have one hour. After that, if they aren't out of the home, the IDF claims that they cannot be held accountable." As a friend so accurately said after the event, "The house demolition was more then an act of state sponsored terrorism by the State of Israel. The demolition of these people's home was a direct action taken by the Israeli government to continue to handicap, humiliate, weaken and ultimately destroy the fabric of Palestinians livelihood and existence in Palestine. When one does not have a home, what are they to do?" These families, not only lost their homes, but they lost everything they could not haul out of the house in an hour....including their sense of security and hope.

Thanks for contributing Alyssa and sorry for the delay in posting this! We are slow these days. It's summer in Palestine, give us a break.