Ramzy Baroud
BigNewsNetwork
Growing up in a Palestinian refugee camp in the
Gaza Strip, it was a very familiar encounter.
Israeli soldiers storming our house accompanied
by shouts of terror and a barrage of insults. Such recollections
make me shudder to this day.
Just the mere summoning of those memories of my
childhood in the Nuseirat refugee camp haunting me not only in
childhood but in my adulthood as well, shall most likely
accompany me for the rest of my life - almost instantaneously
forcing me to relive my mother's agonizing cries, my father's
pleas for the welfare of his children, my brothers and I
clutching to each other as the soldiers try to break us apart;
the physical degradation, the verbal abuse, then the utter
silence when the soldiers finally leave, the sounds of the
engines fading away into the camp's darkened roads, followed by
far away screams from some other family in some other place, as
the tragic scenario faithfully repeats itself.
My family's house was positioned in a location
that was simply a nightmare, since it stood at the helm of the
camp's main square, often referred to as Red Square by locals,
remembering the many Palestinians killed in and around it while
protesting the occupation during the uprising or Intifada of
1987. Israeli soldiers began their nightly hunts for terrorists,
i.e. stone throwing kids, from that central point. My house was
often the first in the soldiers route: it was there where they
initiated their formidable mission. As horrifying as it was, it
was a most predictable routine: we would turn all lights off in
anticipation, my parents would take their positions to open the
door as quickly as possible once the loud banging at the door
commenced; once the Israeli jeeps' engines were turned off, it
was a matter of a few seconds before it all began: a fury of
pounding at the door; "who is it?" my dad would ask, as if he
suspected anyone else but the tormenting soldiers: their reply
was always the same, always as confident as it was terrifying;
"Yahoud," they would reply.
I grew up making the association between
"Yahoud," the Arabic word for "Jews," and the horror my family
had experienced. When my cousin Wael was shot dead in his
teenage years, while on his way to study with me- it was the
"Yahoud" who killed him. When my childhood friend Raed Munis was
shot repeatedly as he dug a grave for a neighbor of ours, shot
just an hour earlier, he was killed by the "Yahoud." When my
mother was struck in the chest repeatedly by the butt of an
Israeli soldier's machine gun, a beating that led to her
untimely death 50 days later, that too was carried out by the
"Yahoud."
Palestinians in the Occupied Territories ascribe
all of these practices to the "Yahoud," simply because this is
how Israel wishes to define itself, a Jewish state. As a child,
in my many many terrifying encounters with the army, this is,
without exception, how they chose to address themselves. Thus,
every inch of land that was stolen from Palestinians in the last
40 years of occupation was done in the name of the Yahoud and
their security; every settlement erected on a poor Palestinian
farmer's orchard, every life that was taken, every brick of
every wall that was built and continues to be constructed over
confiscated Palestinian land in defiance of international law
was also done in the name of the "Yahoud." Palestinians, thus -
most Arabs and Muslims and others as well - hold the "Yahoud"
responsible for their plight, not out of their ingrained and
inherent anti-Semitism, as some so shrewdly or naively choose to
believe, but because on the basis of its Jewishness Israel
excused all of its inexcusable actions. If someone is to blame
for this, it is Israel, not its detractors. It's as simple as
that.
But, of course, it's not always as simple as
that. When I moved to the US, I realized, correctly that the
term "Yahoud" is not befitting, for the old connotations of the
name cannot be accepted in Western societies where Jews have
historically been a recurring victim, and where a large number
of activists and fellow writers, of which many became close
friends of mine are also Jewish. A distinction between a Jew and
a Zionist was indeed an imperative, though not always easy, for
Israel extorts much needed financial, political, moral and other
forms of support relying primarily on Jewish constituents in
North America and Western Europe. Many of the latter demonstrate
their allegiance to Israel in more ways than one can recall.
Unfortunately, in the minds of many, being Jewish requires one
to unquestionably support the "Jewish State." Most publications
that define themselves as Jewish in the Western hemisphere seem
more absorbed by Israeli politics, Israel's security, and so
forth, than engaged in their own political and cultural realms.
The relationship has in fact become so blurred that it's
becoming nearly impossible and most confounding to set apart the
anti-occupation activist from the anti-Zionist, and from the
anti-Semitic.
Naturally Israel and its supporters embrace, if
not contribute to this confusion in most underhanded ways:
labeling at a whim whomever is critical of the Israeli
occupation, be it a respected Harvard Professor or a former
President, as anti-Semitic. Israel's crowd hurl such
designations so very often that many people prefer to steer
clear from the whole matter, failing to take a moral stance on
an issue that has for long irked the conscience of humanity and
has contributed to global instability in countless ways.
However, instead of confronting the Zionist
scheme that has brought such untold harm to the image of one of
the greatest and oldest monotheistic faiths by holding Israel
and its associates to account, there is a growing and alarming
trend where members of the peace and justice movement have
themselves fallen into the ominous trap: engaging in most
ruinous and consuming scuffles, isolating members and entire
groups for allegedly being anti-Semitic. While taking a moral
stance against racism in all of its forms is a requisite to for
any genuine peace and justice activist, the intense debate in
some instances is reaching such grievous points that is
threatening to tear apart the peace and justice movement.
A most notable example is the quarrel in the
United Kingdom between members of Jews against Zionism and those
of Deir Yassin Remembered; the former, accusing members of the
latter of anti-Semitism, is endorsing a motion at an upcoming
conference of the Palestine Solidarity Campaign that would
ostracize the Deir Yassin group from the peace and justice
movement. Members of both groups have spoken out strongly
against the maltreatment of Palestinians in the past and both
have a lot to offer PSC and its various activities.
However, the motion, and the entire episode is a
continuation of an alarming trend that began in the US several
years ago, and has consumed activists, distracting them from the
real fight. Moreover, it is dangerously compromising:
constructive dialogue and freedom of speech, the lack thereof
has historically sidelined the pro Palestinian voice for
decades. If members of both groups are unable to work jointly
and sort out their differences through dialogue, then they
should refrain from taking their fights to the public, as has
been the case in Britain, in ways that are demoralizing the
entire movement.
It also ought to be noted that as far as Israel
is concerned, any criticism of its occupation of the West Bank,
no matter how polite or subtle, is an unforgivable form of
anti-Semitism; thus there is no need for any member of the peace
and justice movement to exasperate the Israeli witch hunt.
Indeed, Israel is more than capable of prolonging such campaigns
on its own.
There are many Palestinian children who are still
huddling inside their homes in fear of the encroaching tanks and
the hordes of unforgiving soldiers, who continue to commit
untold atrocities in the name of the "Jewish State;" it's those
depraved individuals and the government that has assigned them
to their vile mission, who deserve to be isolated and labeled;
it's Israel who must be held to account, by Jewish and non
Jewish individuals and groups alike, to end its exploitation of
the Jewish people and their religion.
I believe that the action of a true peace and
justice activist must stem from concern for humanity, not from
racism and prejudice; however, to suppress freedom of
expression, settle personal grievances at the expense of a most
colorful and ideologically diverse movement, thus the honorable
cause it stands for, is to do an immense disservice to all of us
concerned with bringing to a halt a most bloody and raging
conflict in the Middle East.
According to the World Food Program (WFP)
forty-six percent of Palestinians in the Occupied Territories
are food insecure; the Israeli wall is snaking around the West
Bank at an astonishing speed; human rights violations are
committed against vulnerable Palestinians with impunity in broad
daylight with tacit or explicit support from various Western
countries, led by the United States; there is no time to be
wasted: all energies must be channeled in so prudent a way to
stop Israel's inhumane treatment of the Palestinians and end the
occupation. I plead to all of you, to work for peace, to redress
injustice or at least to do nothing that would jeopardize the
work of the peace and justice movement, neither in Britain, nor
anywhere else.
-Ramzy Baroud's latest book: The Second
Palestinian Intifada: A Chronology of a People s Struggle (Pluto
Press, London) is now available at Amazon.com.