Letter from Hawara

By Michael Eilan

Somewhere near the top of a steep mountain south of Nablus, the absurdities of occupation do not seem surrealistic any more, just part of a ritual dance before a big an awful war.

There were four Israelis and two Palestinians people from the village of Hawara picking olives on one half burnt tree with about 12 soldiers shouting at them that they it was a closed military area and they had to leave the tree immediately.

The atmosphere between the Israelis was absurd. The burnt trees under the settlement of Yitzhar were acts of brutal violence. The way things are going now the relations between Israelis will cease to look absurd and start looking more like the burnt trees. Everything that that hasn't been scorched will be.

I was one of the four Israelis and we did not stop picking. Neither did the Palestinian owners of the tree. At first the soldiers, all kids from combat units stood very close to us. After a whole they relaxed and a few wandered off.

The real problem was at the very top of the hill with the settlers at Yitzhar who had burned the trees. They were hanging out on the top of the hill about 100 meters away all wearing black pants and white shirts because it was a Saturday.

They have been making life miserable for people from Hawara and Burin for the past few months. They started pestering the villagers a long time ago, and then two settlers from Yitzhar were killed which gave legitimacy to a reign of terror. Gideon Levyof Ha'artez has done a better job of describing the war between Yitzhar and its neighbors then I can since he has been following it with that persistence that has made him one of the very few truly decent people in Israeli journalism.

Though I do write for my living I did not come to file copy. Some friends and neighbors of mine who are sort of occasional peace activists read one of Levy's reports and got angry. We live in the Galilee and most of us had olive groves. Something about deliberately fucking up the harvest and burning trees that take so long to grow got us all very angry. The settlers don't grow anything, don't make anything and want to drown us all in the blood of their crazy dreams while we pay their bills and have to apologize for not understanding or supporting them.

These friends, Yoram Verete and Alon Porat, resuscitated an organization they had formed during the Intifada called Red Line because one needs an organization to deal with the necessary coordination with the Palestinian Authority.

Dedi Zuker, the Knesset member from Meretz came too and really did his job. About 10 people from our village Clil, which is Jewish and another people from the neighboring Sheikh Danun rented the bus that usually takes our kids to school. About another 20 people came from other places in the Galilee. There was a fair amount of media too, and it even got onto the evening news, though publicity was really not the purpose.

Up on that olive tree several things became quite clear. The settlers are our problem. By us I mean that good half of the Israeli population that want peace.

Most of the liberal people I know never talk to settlers. Mainly because they are disgusting and remind us about all sorts of disgusting things in our past. We have to stop them and you can't get tough at arms distance. We have to talk to them, persuade them, threaten them, show strength and also some understanding. Bring the crazies in line, not pay their bills. Face up to our own ugly past because we come from a militaristic aggressive society. Until we face whom we are, where we came from, the crazies will rule, because the liberal half of the country can't talk to them straight while pretending they actually live in New York or Amsterdam.

So there, around the tree there were a few nervous solider kids and six people who could be their fathers doing something halfway between real work and a statement about land, borders and violence.

One of the kids was an officer from Safed. He looked deeply ashamed of the whole scene. There was another kid from one of the more moderate settlements whose parents probably wanted to provide him with a better suburban life. He spouted the stuff he learned in school, but couldn't really take it seriously.

Another kid was a Druse from a village where we usually shop near home. He couldn't care less until one of us asked him what his family would do if somebody fucked up their olive trees. He grew red in the face. A few others didn't speak too much, but they listened uncomfortably. We came from the generation that put them in this untenable situation.

After a while they asked where we served in the army. When they learned we had all been real soldiers they became much more polite -- to us, not to the Palestinians who were studiously avoiding eye contact. They were polite to the Palestinians too -- but only because we were there. Against their objections we moved from tree to tree picking olives while the settlers started to drop down from Yitzhak to the neighboring terraces. After a while the settlers got closer and the police, not the army, realized that there was no way the soldiers could or would move us. They started to use threats and pulled out a pair of plastic handcuffs. Dedi Zuker showed up at the right time, but there were no more olives to pick so we moved down. Then the police came and said yet again that it was closed military area. To us it seemed, and not to the settlers who were hanging around the terraces like vampires in their Saturday best.

It all ended it the well-remembered style of a semi-violent eviction. The policemen tried to restrain the brutality which has become such a hallmark in the past few years and we were only kicked a few times on the ground by a few cops who were immediately restrained by their officers. One guy from Sheikh Danun was injured, but because he fell while jumping from a terrace. An army medic looked after him and he was taken to the hospital in Nablus. The rest of us got away with a few scratches and bumps.

At the end of the day there was an agreement that the army would protect the villagers during the harvest. If they don't do it we'll move to plan B.

About 10 sacks of olives were picked by the whole group with the people from Hawara. They and the guy from the Palestinian Authority said thank you. We said no thanks were due because those crazies are our problem and we want peace just as much as they do.

All of this took place on the Saturday, just after the Wye Memorandum was signed at the White House. Nobody mentioned it all day.