Monday, May 13, 2013
Hunger Strike Song
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
I've Seen Them Before
i haven’t looked at the images from Boston. i’ve seen them before. In Iraq, Afghanistan, Palestine and myriad other places.
i haven’t read the stories emanating out of Boston. i’ve heard them before. Roz Mohammed, whose brother was killed in a drone attack in rural Afghanistan; little Ayoub, who was blown to pieces under the lemon tree in the family garden in Gaza City, his mother holding a blood splattered lemon as she spoke of her little boy, kissing her goodbye and running outside to go to school; eight year old Fares, the “generator” of the family decapitated as he slept in the family home in Beit Hanoun. These stories are commonplace in the world where American foreign policy is at work. And i am tired of hearing them. i am tired of mourning tents and mother's tears. My heart has been carved into little pieces. In this butcher shop of a world i begin again.
The mistake is the belief that there is a difference between here and there. There is not.
People, all of us, have been paying in endless death and dismemberment. If you woke up angry and vengeful this morning, take a very careful look in the mirror. Go beyond this blemish or that, and look in those angry eyes. Delve deep and see how tarnished and hard our hearts have become. If you do not recognize that the children killed in Iraq, Afghanistan, Palestine, Somalia, Libya, Yemen, are as very precious as your children or the children injured and killed in Boston, you are gravely mistaken, you have been blinded.
We Americans, each and every one of us, are killers. We are supporters of terrorism. Each and every time a child is killed by a drone, a tank shell, a bomb (errant or not), machine gun fire, we hold the trigger. We are the terrorists we have been searching for.
There is no "just war". There is no "legal bombing". There is only hatred and ignorance or love. Until we recognize our place as perpetrators in this terrible cycle, hate and ignorance will out.
i choose love.
These stories resonate in light of Boston. It is beyond the time to find a new course in the world.
i haven’t read the stories emanating out of Boston. i’ve heard them before. Roz Mohammed, whose brother was killed in a drone attack in rural Afghanistan; little Ayoub, who was blown to pieces under the lemon tree in the family garden in Gaza City, his mother holding a blood splattered lemon as she spoke of her little boy, kissing her goodbye and running outside to go to school; eight year old Fares, the “generator” of the family decapitated as he slept in the family home in Beit Hanoun. These stories are commonplace in the world where American foreign policy is at work. And i am tired of hearing them. i am tired of mourning tents and mother's tears. My heart has been carved into little pieces. In this butcher shop of a world i begin again.
The mistake is the belief that there is a difference between here and there. There is not.
People, all of us, have been paying in endless death and dismemberment. If you woke up angry and vengeful this morning, take a very careful look in the mirror. Go beyond this blemish or that, and look in those angry eyes. Delve deep and see how tarnished and hard our hearts have become. If you do not recognize that the children killed in Iraq, Afghanistan, Palestine, Somalia, Libya, Yemen, are as very precious as your children or the children injured and killed in Boston, you are gravely mistaken, you have been blinded.
We Americans, each and every one of us, are killers. We are supporters of terrorism. Each and every time a child is killed by a drone, a tank shell, a bomb (errant or not), machine gun fire, we hold the trigger. We are the terrorists we have been searching for.
There is no "just war". There is no "legal bombing". There is only hatred and ignorance or love. Until we recognize our place as perpetrators in this terrible cycle, hate and ignorance will out.
i choose love.
These stories resonate in light of Boston. It is beyond the time to find a new course in the world.
Sunday, April 07, 2013
Land Day is Everyday, Everywhere
In the end they will take it.
Why not surrender?
Relent . Give up.
Decades of struggle.
Stones vs. tanks.
Like arrows vs. Gatling guns.
It’s silly.
Hopeless.
Undeniable as well.
They want it all.
Every last hectare.
Did they tell you?
There is no place for you.
Did they tell you?
Your children will die.
Manifest destiny.
Propaganda to propagate
colonizers on native land.
Judea and Samaria.
Propaganda to propagate
colonizers on Palestinian land.
Land day is everyday, everywhere.
It is not a nostalgic look back.
It is a possibility
of what yet might be.
A possibility to recover
what was lost.
Taken.
Stolen .
A possibility to stop
the theft happening now,
in front of you.
You don't see it?
You think
it's ancient history?
You are trapped.
In your settler mind.
In your colonizer comforts.
i know.
i too live on stolen land.
Land day is everyday, everywhere.
A possibility to resurrect
a way of life.
A possibility to
recover your heart.
Surrender is not an option.
Collaboration is a crime.
The savages are the civilized.
The terrorists are the state.
The fight will continue
Until the very last stone.
Until the very last drop of blood.
Saturday, March 30, 2013
In Honor of Mahmud Zagout
Thirty-seven years
after the first Land Day demonstrations, Israel continues its expropriation and
colonization of Palestinian land. Israel continues to expand its illegal
settlements in occupied Palestinian territory, forcing Palestinians from their
land. Palestinians also face dispossession and displacement inside Israel.
Last year i was at Erez crossing as Palestinian youth threw stones and attempted to plant the Palestinian flag on the closed gate. Dozens were shot, one was killed by a shot to the neck. Mahmoud Zagout would be 21 years old this spring. His cousin, who was with him that day and carried his limp body from the front, said to me, "Mahmoud could not place the flag at the gate. I will. Or my children will. We will continue to resist until we win our rights. Mahmoud’s blood will not be wasted. Hundreds will take his place. We will fight for our rights, for our children, we will fight until we get our land back.”
“The occupiers want us to forget about our land, and about Jerusalem, by turning our focus on our troubles- no jobs, no cooking fuel, no power, no gasoline, but we will not forget. My family is a family of resistance. My uncles have been killed, they’ve been to prison. They died for Jerusalem. Everyone around you here may die for Jerusalem. We are proud to do this.”
Today is Land Day in Palestine. 37 years and youth are still being killed as they fight for freedom. How many youth will die today, resisting to live?
Last year i was at Erez crossing as Palestinian youth threw stones and attempted to plant the Palestinian flag on the closed gate. Dozens were shot, one was killed by a shot to the neck. Mahmoud Zagout would be 21 years old this spring. His cousin, who was with him that day and carried his limp body from the front, said to me, "Mahmoud could not place the flag at the gate. I will. Or my children will. We will continue to resist until we win our rights. Mahmoud’s blood will not be wasted. Hundreds will take his place. We will fight for our rights, for our children, we will fight until we get our land back.”
“The occupiers want us to forget about our land, and about Jerusalem, by turning our focus on our troubles- no jobs, no cooking fuel, no power, no gasoline, but we will not forget. My family is a family of resistance. My uncles have been killed, they’ve been to prison. They died for Jerusalem. Everyone around you here may die for Jerusalem. We are proud to do this.”
Today is Land Day in Palestine. 37 years and youth are still being killed as they fight for freedom. How many youth will die today, resisting to live?
Saturday, March 23, 2013
The Third Day of Spring, 2013 (#2)
This morning in the news, there is a photo of a man set on
fire in Egypt and an entire neighborhood in Burma burning. Man's inhumanity is
neverending. As the sun rose a mourning dove perched on the fire escape and
sang to me. The whole world is burning. i am beyond talking about winning and
victory. What we all need, each and every one, is the ability to surrender.
Surrender into our brother’s arms and declare, "i wish to live in
peace."
The Third Day of Spring, 2013
Tragedy everywhere,
ongoing thru time. In the moment, peace arises. On the fire escape a mourning
dove coos. The sun, a fiery orange, illuminates the street. A man is set on
fire in Egypt. A community burns in Burma. Ashes to ashes, but by my brother’s
hand? Screams of all the victims echo across the universe, they settle in my
heart. i've heard said, "My religion is kindness." To live that, in
the mayhem of this life, means it is time for me to begin work. (It is always
time for me to begin this work, and i begin again.)
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Caught
i wrote this 10 years ago today, just 1 mo
after returning from Iraq with Voices and CPT. In the ensuing years, millions marched to no avail. i often wonder about the
hotel clerk, and i dread to think of the life he has led over these 10
terrible years.
March 19, 2003
IRAQ REFLECTION: Caught
The people of Iraq are caught in a trap. Two overwhelming powers approach
from opposite sides. Like an animal in a steel trap, they gnaw at their own
leg, hoping somehow for freedom, even at the cost of a limb. They watch as
the smiling hunter approaches, singing songs of freedom, singing songs of
righteousness. They hear the words, "In God we trust," and "God bless
America."
The clerk looks up and welcomes me "home" with graciousness and a smile
each time I enter the hotel. Since we have arrived in Baghdad, this man
has been kind to me, patient with my inability to speak Arabic, concerned
whether I had a good day or a bad day. He has a deep and abiding sadness
in his eyes.
Tonight, he asks, "John, what do you think about this war?" I explain that I
think it is immoral and a tragedy of enormous proportions. "Why did you
come?" he asks. I tell him I want to support my Iraqi friends and stand in
opposition to my government. I came to Iraq because he is not my enemy, but
my brother. He says, "You are better even than us. We do nothing. You come
here to help. We can do nothing, do you understand?"
"My family is here in Baghdad. My father, my brothers. Do you know I go home
each night and I just sit. I only think of one thing: 'What am I to do? War
is coming, What am I to do?' That's it. Tomorrow, the next day, I can do
nothing. I just sit. My brothers, my father, the same."
I look deeply into his eyes. Days, months, years, in this trap. "Why this
war?" he asks. I cannot answer. I want to console him, but I cannot. I want
to hold him like my child, and tell him it will be all right, but it will
not be all right.
"Thank you and your friends for being here, you have good hearts", he says.
He puts his hand over his heart--a common gesture here in Iraq. It is a
reminder for me. For a moment we stand across from each other, holding our
hearts, holding our anguish. We both begin to cry. When I can bear it no
longer, I turn and head for the lift.
The people of Iraq are caught in a trap. They watch as the smiling hunter
approaches, singing songs of freedom, and singing songs of righteousness.
Then they notice the look in the eye. The smile is not for them. The hunter
merely appreciates the prey. He is thinking he will end it quickly and go
home with his prize. The songs are not for them. In the eyes of the
approaching power freedom, democracy, and security is only for a select
group. As the prey looks up in a final plea for mercy, this truth becomes
self evident.
March 19, 2003
IRAQ REFLECTION: Caught
The people of Iraq are caught in a trap. Two overwhelming powers approach
from opposite sides. Like an animal in a steel trap, they gnaw at their own
leg, hoping somehow for freedom, even at the cost of a limb. They watch as
the smiling hunter approaches, singing songs of freedom, singing songs of
righteousness. They hear the words, "In God we trust," and "God bless
America."
The clerk looks up and welcomes me "home" with graciousness and a smile
each time I enter the hotel. Since we have arrived in Baghdad, this man
has been kind to me, patient with my inability to speak Arabic, concerned
whether I had a good day or a bad day. He has a deep and abiding sadness
in his eyes.
Tonight, he asks, "John, what do you think about this war?" I explain that I
think it is immoral and a tragedy of enormous proportions. "Why did you
come?" he asks. I tell him I want to support my Iraqi friends and stand in
opposition to my government. I came to Iraq because he is not my enemy, but
my brother. He says, "You are better even than us. We do nothing. You come
here to help. We can do nothing, do you understand?"
"My family is here in Baghdad. My father, my brothers. Do you know I go home
each night and I just sit. I only think of one thing: 'What am I to do? War
is coming, What am I to do?' That's it. Tomorrow, the next day, I can do
nothing. I just sit. My brothers, my father, the same."
I look deeply into his eyes. Days, months, years, in this trap. "Why this
war?" he asks. I cannot answer. I want to console him, but I cannot. I want
to hold him like my child, and tell him it will be all right, but it will
not be all right.
"Thank you and your friends for being here, you have good hearts", he says.
He puts his hand over his heart--a common gesture here in Iraq. It is a
reminder for me. For a moment we stand across from each other, holding our
hearts, holding our anguish. We both begin to cry. When I can bear it no
longer, I turn and head for the lift.
The people of Iraq are caught in a trap. They watch as the smiling hunter
approaches, singing songs of freedom, and singing songs of righteousness.
Then they notice the look in the eye. The smile is not for them. The hunter
merely appreciates the prey. He is thinking he will end it quickly and go
home with his prize. The songs are not for them. In the eyes of the
approaching power freedom, democracy, and security is only for a select
group. As the prey looks up in a final plea for mercy, this truth becomes
self evident.
Among the Date Trees
On the anniversary of the start of the Iraq bombing and invasion, i dug out a piece i wrote 10 years ago when i was in Iraq with CPT and Voices.
Feb 7, 2003 -- Sitting in the shade of the palm trees, drinking fresh orange
juice, our hosts encourage us to eat more, drink more, enjoy the sun, enjoy
the company. The children are curious, our hosts relaxed. As the threat of
war looms like a firestorm on the horizon, here on this small fruit farm
the threat seems distant. The feeling is surreal. One of the boys sits next
to me and rests his head on my thigh. I love this child, who honors me with
his trust. More dates arrive, and cakes. But where, I wonder, are my
enemies here beneath the date trees? I feel no divisions here. Looking at
the table, an orange sits next to a grapefruit. Our host points out that
the skin is the same but for the color. Inside the fruit is so different,
but equally nourishing. "This is the greatness of God", he explains. I look
at his hand as he holds the orange, and I look at my hand too.
We take a brief tour of the farm, walking along a narrow path among the
orange, tangerine, and pomegranate trees, the date palms towering above us
swaying gently in the breeze. A boy no more than four picks dandelions as
he tags along (remember picking dandelions when you were just a child? It
has been too long since I have held that innocence, though it is a joy to
behold.) Our host picks oranges and insists that we eat. No is not an
answer, only yes,yes,yes. I recall the soldiers in the West Bank,
destroying olive groves under the guise of security. Where are my enemies?
Are they here amongst the silent trees?
We are invited inside to enjoy a bountiful meal. Our hosts stand behind us,
pulling tender lamb meat from the bones, and filling our bowls. The bowls
are piled high, a feast for guests who come in peace. (The skin is the
same, but for the color. The fruit inside so different, yet equally
nourishing, this is the greatness of God!)
Our leave taking is bittersweet. We place our hands on our hearts, and bow
our heads. We drive off with waves and shouts. Filled and smiling, the
truth is clear. There are no enemies here, just friends, just family. Will
we meet again? Inshallah (God willing), we will meet again, and peace will
fill the air as the date palms gently rock in the breeze.
Feb 7, 2003 -- Sitting in the shade of the palm trees, drinking fresh orange
juice, our hosts encourage us to eat more, drink more, enjoy the sun, enjoy
the company. The children are curious, our hosts relaxed. As the threat of
war looms like a firestorm on the horizon, here on this small fruit farm
the threat seems distant. The feeling is surreal. One of the boys sits next
to me and rests his head on my thigh. I love this child, who honors me with
his trust. More dates arrive, and cakes. But where, I wonder, are my
enemies here beneath the date trees? I feel no divisions here. Looking at
the table, an orange sits next to a grapefruit. Our host points out that
the skin is the same but for the color. Inside the fruit is so different,
but equally nourishing. "This is the greatness of God", he explains. I look
at his hand as he holds the orange, and I look at my hand too.
We take a brief tour of the farm, walking along a narrow path among the
orange, tangerine, and pomegranate trees, the date palms towering above us
swaying gently in the breeze. A boy no more than four picks dandelions as
he tags along (remember picking dandelions when you were just a child? It
has been too long since I have held that innocence, though it is a joy to
behold.) Our host picks oranges and insists that we eat. No is not an
answer, only yes,yes,yes. I recall the soldiers in the West Bank,
destroying olive groves under the guise of security. Where are my enemies?
Are they here amongst the silent trees?
We are invited inside to enjoy a bountiful meal. Our hosts stand behind us,
pulling tender lamb meat from the bones, and filling our bowls. The bowls
are piled high, a feast for guests who come in peace. (The skin is the
same, but for the color. The fruit inside so different, yet equally
nourishing, this is the greatness of God!)
Our leave taking is bittersweet. We place our hands on our hearts, and bow
our heads. We drive off with waves and shouts. Filled and smiling, the
truth is clear. There are no enemies here, just friends, just family. Will
we meet again? Inshallah (God willing), we will meet again, and peace will
fill the air as the date palms gently rock in the breeze.
Sunday, February 24, 2013
I Watch the News
Broken hearted i watch the news.
Arafat Jaradat is dead.
Thirty years old.
A son, a husband,
and a father--2 young kids.
His jailers claim a heart attack.
Broken bones in the arms, legs, neck, and back.
Tortured by the occupier he died a brutal death.
i sit at home. i watch the news.
Prisoners in the occupiers jails refuse their food.
The streets rise up, stones rain down.
Black smoke and tear gas choke the air.
i watch the news.
i want to be on a plane to beloved Palestine.
i hear the call. INTIFADA!
The Occupiers stamp in my passport
covers an entire page.
In bold black letters it reads:
DENIED.
Arafat Jaradat is dead.
Thirty years old.
A son, a husband,
and a father--2 young kids.
His jailers claim a heart attack.
Broken bones in the arms, legs, neck, and back.
Tortured by the occupier he died a brutal death.
i sit at home. i watch the news.
Prisoners in the occupiers jails refuse their food.
The streets rise up, stones rain down.
Black smoke and tear gas choke the air.
i watch the news.
i want to be on a plane to beloved Palestine.
i hear the call. INTIFADA!
The Occupiers stamp in my passport
covers an entire page.
In bold black letters it reads:
DENIED.
Monday, January 28, 2013
Imagine
Can
you imagine fleeing your home in terror?
Can you imagine fleeing your home in terror and consoling your children, who have fled in their bare feet, that it is just for a short while, soon you will return home.
Can you imagine finding yourself in a refugee camp with nothing.
Can you imagine your son shot on the "border" by the same forces that occupy your land until this day? Can you imagine they dare call your son "terrorist".
Can you imagine dreaming all these years later of the olive groves you planted as a child?
Can you imagine 65 years later, as you lay dying, handing the key to your home to your grand children and telling them, "One day you will return home. One day you will be free!"
Can you imagine fleeing your home in terror and consoling your children, who have fled in their bare feet, that it is just for a short while, soon you will return home.
Can you imagine finding yourself in a refugee camp with nothing.
Can you imagine your son shot on the "border" by the same forces that occupy your land until this day? Can you imagine they dare call your son "terrorist".
Can you imagine dreaming all these years later of the olive groves you planted as a child?
Can you imagine 65 years later, as you lay dying, handing the key to your home to your grand children and telling them, "One day you will return home. One day you will be free!"
Friday, December 28, 2012
The Deep Wound of Wounded Knee
December 29th marks the 122nd
anniversary of the Massacre at Wounded Knee. It is a story that remains fresh
in the lives of many indigenous peoples across America. Each generation is
taught to never forget.
In 1891, reviewing the history leading up to
the massacre, Commissioner of Indian Affairs Thomas Morgan said,
“It is hard to overestimate the magnitude of
the calamity which happened to the Sioux people by the sudden disappearance of
the buffalo. The boundless range was to be abandoned for the circumscribed
reservation, and abundance of plenty to be supplanted by limited and decreasing
government subsistence and supplies. Under these circumstances it is not in
human nature not to be discontented and restless, even turbulent and violent.”
Commissioner Morgan was not empathetic about
the plight of the indigenous people. He was just stating facts. One year prior
to the massacre, in Oct 1889, he issued a policy paper stating his convictions
regarding the native population.
“The Indians must conform to "the white
man’s ways," peaceably if they will, forcibly if they must. They must
adjust themselves to their environment, and conform their mode of living
substantially to our civilization. This civilization may not be the best
possible, but it is the best the Indians can get. They cannot escape it, and
must either conform to it or be crushed by it. The tribal relations should be
broken up, socialism destroyed, and the family and the autonomy of the
individual substituted.”
The Wounded Knee Massacre is still commonly depicted as a “battle”
that no one can be blamed for, but if blame is assigned it is always made clear
that a Lakota fired the first shot. This is the justification for all that
followed. A century after the murders, Congress issued an apology, expressing
“deep regret” for the events on that day in 1890 when upwards of 370 men,
women, and children were gunned down as they fled for their lives. But the
Wounded Knee Massacre was not an anomaly, nor was it an accident. Wounded Knee
is the entire history of indigenous peoples relationship with Imperialism made
manifest in a single event.
“I did not know then
how much was ended. When I look back now from this high hill of my old age, I
can still see the butchered women and children lying heaped and scattered all
along the crooked gulch as plain as when I saw them with eyes still young. And
I can see that something else died there in the bloody mud, and was buried in
the blizzard. A people's dream died there. It was a beautiful dream.” Black
Elk.
The descendants of the victims commemorate the massacre in
order to honor those who have fallen and to foster healing of their still
devastated communities. The descendants of the perpetrators ignore inflicting the
wound and the wound festers.
From Wounded Knee, where just days after the massacre a
young newspaper editor named Frank Baum (later to become famous for the children’s
story “The Wizard of Oz”) opined, “The Pioneer has before declared that our
only safety depends upon the total extermination of the Indians. Having wronged
them for centuries, we had better, in order to protect our civilization, follow
it up by one more wrong and wipe these untamed and untamable creatures from the
face of the earth.“
To Vietnam, where Lyndon Johnson’s call to win hearts and
minds of the civilian population was corrupted by GI’s to, "When you have them by the balls their hearts and minds will follow."
To Iraq, where Madeline Albright was asked if the deaths of
½ million children during sanctions was worth it, she replied "I think
this is a very hard choice, but the price — we think the price is worth
it."
To Gaza, where Dov Weisglass said, “The idea is to put the
Palestinians on a diet, but not to make them die of hunger.”
To Iran where a new sanctions regime is in place and the
state department claims, “The sanctions are beginning to bite,” and dozens of
places in between, the wound festers.
In each case, the power with the superior military claims
that the occupied and oppressed are dangerous and threaten the very existence
of the state, even as the state starves the population, restricts their every
move and denies them the most basic rights under the guise of “security”. All attempts by the “enemy” to seek peace are
ignored or derided as “lies” while the theft of land and/or resources continue
unabated. Each time the oppressed demand their rights or dare to strike back
against their oppressors, the oppressor claims that the people are motivated by
hate and seek the annihilation of the state. Negotiations are viewed as a sign
of weakness and are rarely pursued unless they can be used as a tool to further
oppression. The oppressors continually talk about “pursuing peace” as they
systematically destroy any and all opposition.
We kill by starvation, we kill by denying medicine, and we
kill by isolation. When that doesn’t silence dissent of the “malcontents” we do
not hesitate to kill with bullets and bombs. Remember Commissioner Morgan’s
words, “This civilization may not be the best possible, but it is the best they
can get. They cannot escape it, and must either conform to it or be crushed by
it.”
One day we too will be crushed by this flawed concept of civilization.
The Dahiya doctrine is a military strategy in which the Israeli
army deliberately targets civilian infrastructure as a means of inducing
suffering on the civilian population, making it so difficult to survive that
fighting back or resisting occupation are no longer practical, thereby
establishing deterrence. The doctrine is named after a southern suburb in
Beirut with large apartment blocks. Israeli bombs flattened the entire
neighborhood during the 2006 Lebanon War. But this doctrine is not a modern
strategy for controlling populations. Nor is putting the people of Gaza on a
“diet” new- subjugating an entire population through a combination of poverty,
malnutrition, a struggle over limited resources, and violence is the American way,
adopted by our closest allies, (and “the only democracy in the Middle East,”
with the “most moral army in the world,”) the Israelis.
Dec 27th marks the 4th anniversary of the
beginning of Operation Cast Lead, (the name derives from a popular Hannukah
children’s song about a dreidel made from cast lead.) During this attack on
Gaza, 1,417 people were killed (330 children), 4336 were wounded. 6,400 homes
were destroyed. Hospitals, mosques, the power plant, and the sewage system were
deliberately targeted.
Israel accuses Hamas of war crimes for shooting rockets
without guidance systems indiscriminately into Israel. Israeli officials claim
that “Hamas hides behind civilians” as a justification to bomb civilian population
centers and infrastructure. Killing civilians in Gaza using precision
munitions, is a war crime, no matter who is hiding behind them.
After the recent killing of 20 children
in a Newtown, Connecticut grade school, President Obama, wiping tears from his
eyes said,
“This is our first task -- caring
for our children. It’s our first job. If we don’t get that right,
we don’t get anything right. That’s how, as a society, we will be judged.
And by that measure, can we truly say, as a nation, that we are meeting our
obligations?“
The just completed eight-day Israeli operation against Gaza called
the Pillar of Cloud (The name is derived from a Biblical passage) saw three
generations of the al-Dalu family wiped out in a single bombing, including 4
children between the ages of 1 and 7 years old. The surviving son does not
speak of surrender, relinquishing the families land, or disappearing. He
demands justice. His tears are mixed with fury. Can he be blamed?
As the ceasefire went in to effect there was one consistent message
from the people of Gaza. We are here. This is our home. We will never leave.
They will have to kill every one of us.
Upon cessation of the bombing, our Congress immediately
voted to replenish Israel’s bombs and munitions in order for Israel to “protect
itself”. The wound festers.
In his speech the President went on to say,
“If there is even one step we can take
to save another child, or another parent, or another town, from the grief that
has visited Tucson, and Aurora, and Oak Creek, and Newtown, and communities
from Columbine to Blacksburg before that -- then surely we have an obligation
to try.”
Wounded Knee has not disappeared. The Lakota people remain.
Gaza has not disappeared. The Palestinian people remain. In Afghanistan, Iraq, Pakistan,
Yemen, Libya, and Somalia people grieve for the loss of their children. The
violence wrought upon them in our name continues. If we can take one step to save another
child, we have an obligation to try.
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Expendible Lives
Children are killed. 20 by a man in a school in a
small, "peaceful" community in Connecticut. 35 in Gaza, a place
wracked by violence; a place where violence is openly advocated by Pres Obama,
the administration, the Congress, & many Americans; a place where American
bombs, bullets, helicopters and bombers do much of the damage. (Never mind a
decade in Afghanistan, and Iraq, and American intervention in so many places
that it boggles one's mind.)
In both cases the essential elements are the same. Children are murdered in an act of unspeakable violence. In one case it is an outrage, there is lots of hand wringing and questions of, "How it could possibly happen here?" In the other it is acceptable, met with barely a shrug of the shoulders, or maybe, in an act of appeasement, a call for "restraint".
i would like to call on the next mass murderer in the United States to show a little restraint.
The only difference between the 2 incidents is the fantasies we wrap around them with our minds. When these fantasies don't align with the culture, we label it "mental illness".
But what do we call it when the culture itself is so diseased that immorality is the norm, when killing children is acceptable? This has been the culture of America for generations. The unspoken agreement is this: Certain children, in America and in the world, are simply not worthy of our concern or our care. They are expendable for an idea.
Banning guns will not cure this disease.
In this picture, M Basyouni stands above the hole where shrapnel entered the bedroom and decapitated his 8 year old son in his sleep. Gaza Nov 2012.
In both cases the essential elements are the same. Children are murdered in an act of unspeakable violence. In one case it is an outrage, there is lots of hand wringing and questions of, "How it could possibly happen here?" In the other it is acceptable, met with barely a shrug of the shoulders, or maybe, in an act of appeasement, a call for "restraint".
i would like to call on the next mass murderer in the United States to show a little restraint.
The only difference between the 2 incidents is the fantasies we wrap around them with our minds. When these fantasies don't align with the culture, we label it "mental illness".
But what do we call it when the culture itself is so diseased that immorality is the norm, when killing children is acceptable? This has been the culture of America for generations. The unspoken agreement is this: Certain children, in America and in the world, are simply not worthy of our concern or our care. They are expendable for an idea.
Banning guns will not cure this disease.
In this picture, M Basyouni stands above the hole where shrapnel entered the bedroom and decapitated his 8 year old son in his sleep. Gaza Nov 2012.
Friday, December 14, 2012
A Tear for Sandy Hook, None for Gaza
Gaza, Palestine; Dec
2012. A bomb landed in an olive grove 100 meters from this child's home. An 8
year-old child living across the road from the grove was killed as well as a
teenage boy in the house down the street.
The president shed no tears.
The U.S. Department of Defense stated this week that it will now replenish all of the munitions used by Israel in its recent eight day siege on Gaza, which lead to the deaths of over 180 Palestinians and hundreds of injuries—a large portion being children. Congress is expected to approve the deal this week.
This should be considered as we mourn and listen to politicians and pundits in the coming hours, days, and weeks.
The president shed no tears.
The U.S. Department of Defense stated this week that it will now replenish all of the munitions used by Israel in its recent eight day siege on Gaza, which lead to the deaths of over 180 Palestinians and hundreds of injuries—a large portion being children. Congress is expected to approve the deal this week.
This should be considered as we mourn and listen to politicians and pundits in the coming hours, days, and weeks.
This
child lives in Gaza. Her mother was wounded in the last Israeli attack. By replenishing of all the bombs, mortars, and
bullets most recently used against Gaza by Israel, we insure another
attack at a future date. President Obama shed a tear today for the children of Sandy Hook.
i wonder if he has ever shed a tear for the children of Gaza, or Afghanistan, or Iraq, or Somalia, or Syria, or Libya, or Pakistan, or Yemen, or any of the myriad other places we have sold weapons to or bombed ourselves.
One day, maybe one day, we will see our contribution to the mass killings happening in this country with fresh eyes. Only then will our path turn from darkness to light. Only then can we consider peace.
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Fares was the Generator
Fares Al-Basyouni was 8 years old. At 10:30 pm on
Fri. 16 Nov. 2012 an Israeli warplane bombarded an olive grove in the east of
Beit Hanoun adjacent to Fares' home. Shrapnel, traveling approximately 100
meters, went through the wall of the home and decapitated Fares as he slept
with his brothers and sisters. We visited with the family on 01 Dec 2012. Please
take 20 minutes to view this unedited video and take just 1 minute to put
yourself in the place of Fares' parents.
Friday, December 07, 2012
No Country Would Tolerate Missiles
Walid al Nassasra and two
of his daughters stand staring into the pit where his brothers sheet-metal
roofed, cinder-block home stood until it was hit in a pin-point strike with a
precision guided bomb from an F-16 fighter jet (provided by the United States)
on 19 Nov 2012 at 10 pm as the family slept. If not for the clothes and bedding
strewn about, it would be difficult to tell that a home once stood here.
His brother Taqwfiq, like Walid, is a farmer. Their family has been farming in
the Rafah area for 35 years. They are poor people, scratching out a living on a
small plot of land. As we sat and talked with Walid, Israeli F-16's roared
across the sky.
His brother as well as a 12 year
old nephew remains hospitalized, the nephew is in the ICU with skull and hip
fractures. His sister-in-law is blind after her head and upper body was
severely burned.
His 4 year-old niece suffers
severe burns and a fractured leg stabilized by an external fixation device. In
this kind of reduction, holes are drilled into uninjured areas of bones around
the fracture and special bolts or wires are screwed into the holes. Outside the
body, a rod or a curved piece of metal with special ball-and-socket joints
joins the bolts to make a rigid support. The fracture can be set in the proper
anatomical configuration by adjusting the ball-and-socket joints. Since the
bolts pierce the skin, proper cleaning to prevent infection at the site of
surgery must be performed. Yes, i said his niece is 4 years old. She has been
released to the home. They bring her to us to show us her damaged body, her
face covered in burns, her leg with eight metal screws holding it together. She
is crying. All 9 surviving members of the family were injured in the
blast.
2 nephews, Ahmed and Mohamed, were killed. (Yes, every Martyr, innocent civilian, and resistance fighter here has a name. Everyone killed here has family left behind who grieves for them. Everyone.)
There was no warning given. No
calls, no leaflets, no roof tapping. Just an enormous explosion in the night
that made Walid think his house was bombed, eighty meters away, as all the
windows exploded and the walls rattled.
When Walid was asked what he would
say to the people of the U.S., he said, "The American people already
received our message. During Cast Lead the American people saw that the
majority of the martyrs and injuries were civilians, and they didn't do
anything. They deal with Israel as if it is a state in
America."
President Obama said,
"There’s no country on Earth that would tolerate missiles raining down on
its citizens from outside its borders." We supply the planes, we supply
the bombs, we supply the vetoes at the UN Security Council that gives cover to
these crimes. We as Americans are complicit. The question is, "How much longer
will we tolerate it?"
Wednesday, December 05, 2012
The Message
In Gaza.
Here it is so easy to find anger. i denounce the enemy, and
wonder what i am capable of. Yesterday a man told me, “I am a rocket without a
base.” He raged against the injustice of it all. He was not wrong. It is easy to choose sides, factions, and flags. i consider victory. i'm
lost in confusion. I stand in the rubble of broken houses and broken lives and
i am ready to utter the words "i hate". Then a love sends a message
and it breaks through the swirling clouds that surround me. i stand on the
barricades as the sea crashes on the rocks. i find my ease, i smile and i hold
everything, even my false distinctions, close.
Do you know what it is like to have such a friend? If not,
maybe, just maybe, i can be that friend.
Huang Po
Give up those erroneous thoughts leading to false
distinctions! There is no 'self' and no 'other.' There is no 'wrong desire,' no
'anger,' no 'hatred,' no 'love,' no 'victory,' no 'failure.' Only renounce the
error of intellectual or conceptual thought-processes and your nature will
exhibit its pristine purity--for this alone is the way to attain Enlightenment,
to observe the Dharma, to become a Buddha and all the rest. Unless you
understand this, the whole of your great learning, your painful efforts to
advance, your austerities of diet and clothing, will not help you to a
knowledge of your own Mind. All such practices must be termed fallacious, for
any of them will lead to your rebirth among 'demons'--enemies of the truth--or
among the crude nature spirits. What end is served by pursuits of those? Chih
Kung says: 'Our bodies are the creations of our own minds.' But how can one
expect to gain such knowledge from books? If only you could comprehend the
nature of your own Mind and put an end to discriminatory thought, there would
naturally be no room for even a grain of error to arise.
Saturday, December 01, 2012
Tonight I am Confused
I have been in Gaza for five days now and I am having
difficulty understanding the 8-day war and the subsequent ceasefire. Let me
explain the difficulty I am having. The Israeli Offensive Forces insist they
protect civilians in Gaza, only targeting terrorists. They have several methods
to protect innocent civilians. One method is to call the civilians on the
phone, another method is to drop leaflets telling them to flee for their lives,
as an attack is imminent. During the latest offensive, Israeli dropped leaflets
in the rural areas telling people to flee to the city. In Gaza City, leaflets
were dropped warning people to flee to the rural areas. A new, ingenious method
they use to protect civilians is to drop ‘loud, non-lethal bombs’ on a home as
a warning for the inhabitants as to what will come. They even have a name for
this warning. They call it ‘roof tapping’. Then anywhere from 3 minutes to 20
minutes pass before they bomb the house from F-16’s. These bombs are a very large
and very lethal. The homes I have seen today have been completely flattened,
and the houses around the target are also rendered uninhabitable.
![]() |
| Youth look out at remains of a destroyed home in Jabalya Camp. |
The ‘non-lethal bombs’ penetrate rooftops and can travel
through 4 stories. Children or other civilians sitting under these bombs lose
limbs, suffer head trauma, shrapnel wounds, and other injuries. The idea behind
these warnings is that inhabitants will flee their homes once they are warned.
If elders, small children, newborns, or disabled people are in the home, this
can be a difficult endeavor. If a child suffers an amputation, fleeing will
take a little more precious time. But lets ignore these complications as they
just muddy the waters. I am amazed at the generosity of the Israeli occupiers.
You see, they are the “Most moral army in the world,” everyone knows this. The
generals and politicians have been saying this for decades!
But this is my consternation. If you are so bent on
protecting civilians and killing ‘terrorists’ why warn civilians to leave? Do
they think the terrorists, who everyone knows hide behind civilians, will
remain behind after the warning?
An even more confounding question remains. Why flatten an
empty home?
After the most recent ceasefire agreement, it was stated
that farmers would be able to reach their lands in the buffer zone that Israel
established after they so generously abandoned their illegal settlements in
Gaza. The farmers were thrilled that they would be able to farm on the
300-meter swath of land known as the buffer zone- better known here in Gaza as
the no go zone, because if they dared try to access this land they were
immediately targeted by Israeli snipers, but I digress.
On Wednesday we accompanied farmers to the buffer zone in
Johr el Deek. It was amazing! We walked right up to the razor wire barrier! We
watched as 2 Israeli jeeps approached the fence. I was smiling as they got out
of their jeeps, but my smile was erased as they lifted their weapons and fired
toward us. Of course, they didn’t shoot us, the ceasefire was in effect for an
entire week! I was confused though, as they lobbed tear gas canisters at us,
and continued firing over our heads as we retreated. Perhaps the soldiers were
as confused as I was about the details of the agreement. After all, unfettered
access to the land is a little vague. Perhaps the farmers misunderstood.
The fishermen faced a similar dilemma. After the ceasefire
was announced, the fishermen were told that Israel, in it’s magnanimity, would
allow the fishermen to fish in Gazan waters up to 6 nautical miles from the
shore. This was double, (yes double!) the limit that has been in effect for the
past 6 years. The fishermen were happy. They would have an opportunity to
provide for their families. Never mind that the Oslo Accords stated fishermen
would have access to 20 nautical miles of the sea. That was way back in 1993.
Who could expect agreements so old to be respected now?
The fishermen I spoke with said they had access to the
6-mile limit for two whole days. Two days of fishing without risking their
lives to feed their kids! It was great. So I was astonished to learn that on
Wednesday, exactly one week after the ceasefire agreement, numerous fishing
boats, in waters from 3 nautical miles to 6 nautical miles came under heavy
attack by the Israeli Navy. One boat was sunk, 3 boats had their engines
destroyed by gunfire, one trawler was confiscated and 9 fishermen were
arrested. Of course, the Israeli officers made sure the fishermen stripped and
jumped into the sea before they sunk the boat. They were safely in custody on
the Israeli gunboat before the Israeli Navy blasted the fishing boat to
smithereens.
The fishermen received no warnings. Of course everyone
realizes that cell phones don’t work so far from shore and dropping leaflets
would be impractical as most of the leaflets would fall into the water. And
even I know ‘roof tapping’ at sea would be way too dangerous, as the
possibility of harming the civilian fishermen would be high.
The best approach is to simply start firing from hundreds of
meters away as the gunboats accelerate toward the fishing trawlers. This gives
the fishermen at least 3 minutes to pull up their nets and escape back to port.
I am not certain what changed on the third day for these fishermen, but few
fish were caught.
We also visited the homes of 2 children who were killed. One
was 15 year old, Hassan Jamal Nasser. The other child was 9-year old Fares al-Basyouni.
Both were killed in their homes as they slept.
![]() |
| Fares' father stands near the spot where his son was killed. |
Shrapnel that penetrated the wall decapitated Fares. His father
described the horrific scene. ‘We didn’t hear the bombs. We woke to the sound
of windows shattering and the house shaking. The house was full of smoke. My
daughters and sons were screaming as I moved from room to room to find them.’ Fare’s
lifeless torso landed on top of his 14-year old brother, who ran screaming from
the house into the night.
I thought this was impossible- didn’t they receive the
warnings? Hassan’s cousin Mohammed confirmed leaflets fell from the sky 20
minutes after the attack. So, you see, they were warned.
One thing is certain. Israel has a right to defend itself. President
Obama said, ‘There’s no country on Earth that would tolerate missiles
raining down on its citizens from outside its borders.’ I agree with this
wholeheartedly, who can deny it? I also understand that Israel has to
teach its enemies a lesson from time to time, and I imagine the sooner the
better. They certainly don’t want the people of Gaza to imagine what it must be
like to be free, this would only encourage the terrorists.
So you see my dilemma. What I read in the corporate media
and what I hear from my government and Israeli politicians doesn’t quite square
with the eyewitness accounts on the ground. Maybe the IOF can drop some
leaflets and set me straight.
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Gaza Under Ceasefire (*and the Siege Remains)
The big shots of the international corporate media are gone.
No more Anderson Cooper proclaiming, "That one was really close," as
a bomb blast reverberates in the background and another Palestinian family is
buried in the rubble. The 24 hour news cycle has moved on.
1200 injured Gazans face a shortage of drugs and medical
equipment. Doctors and nurses are working double shifts everyday to help the
wounded. Hundreds are children. Some, with crippling injuries, amputations, and
head trauma will suffer for the rest of their days. Some, horrifically injured
in bombing raids or drone attacks, have passed away today. Some will die
tomorrow, some the day after.
Families are left clinging to memories, while the whole
world forgets.
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