I decided to go to nablus for a couple of days last week, as part of the International Solidarity Movement, a group of mostly Europeans and Americans who spend time in the occupied territories doing non- violent intervention work in situations where the presence of people with foreign passports might prevent even worse human rights violations. I do have a lot of criticism of the ISM, more on that later, but on the whole, I feel that they are an important group, and I do want to help out as much as I can, using the fact that I carry a British passport. I also had a lot of interest and respect (and now also admiration) for the Nablus coordinator, Neta Golan, an Israeli activist, now living with her Palestinian partner in Ramalla.

just so you guys living in larger countries get it, nablus is a mere hour's drive from Jerusalem. (45 minutes with the insane driver that we had) but it can't be further away in terms of daily life under the occupation.

despite the closeness, it took the best part of a day to get to Nablus. Things are complicated in the west bank, due to the division of territories to A, B, and C. it is completely theoretical, because at this point the Israeli army has reoccupied everything anyway, but basically there are a million checkpoints all over the place, enforcing the apartheid between settlers, who can go anywhere they want and do whatever, and Palestinians who at this point are under curfew, and can't, even at the best of times, when the curfew is lifted, move their cars out of cities. the closure is enforced more or less all the time, but sometimes Israeli cars (carrying Israeli license plates, which may belong to Palestinian citizens of Israel, i.e., the cab drivers we went with) are occasionally let past checkpoints. that was the idea, to get to the Hawara heckpoint, just south of nablus, and walk into the city. this didn't work, as the area was under total closure. the soldiers wouldn't let us walk past, because there is curfew. of course, plenty of settler cars passed, to go to the settlements adjacent to Nablus.

we had to drive for another hour, and get to another, more distant, checkpoint called Hamra, east of nablus, and so far it was near the Jordan river valley, to those of you who don't know the geography, that's very hot and dry). There we were allowed to cross (on foot) by a motley crew of bizarre soldiers, none of whom could speak English (though they spoke lots of other languages). my only guess is that because that checkpoint is so far out of the way, they really have no idea what to do with internationals. We were given a brief warning by the officer, (who was called finally by the soldiers) that there are security problems in the area we're going to, and they cannot guarantee our safety, but if we were in danger, to contact the military in nablus. I didn't mention that the military was my main worry at that point. I didn't disclose that I am Israeli and speak Hebrew, for various reasons, to neither Palestinians nor Israeli soldiers.

at the checkpoint there were still a whole long line of Palestinians, who are definitely not guaranteed a crossing. we continued to the Al-Farrah refugee camp, in a van with G, a friendly and welcoming driver, who took us to his home, to rest a little bit before the walk into nablus. G's home is almost next door to the former home of the suicide bomber who blew himself up at a bus stop in (I think) Jerusalem recently. the home was demolished, (the family are god knows where) and the area bears his martyrdom posters, similar ones are all over Palestine, and are one of the most insane and fascinating testimonials to these utterly horrible times. we also met a bunch of internationals, from the Michigan peace team, who basically hang out at the camp, to be present of the army decides to pull any stunts. they live at the old "Farrah" prison, which was built by the brits, and used by the Israelis during the first intifada, and given to the Palestinian authority in 95, as part of the Israeli pull outs dictated in the Oslo accords. I asked that we go to visit the complex, which has been turned into a sports centre by a Swedish govt. grant.

it was really fucking intense for me, as of course I remember the prison during the first intifada, when I was a teenager, protesting the occupation and convinced it will end real soon. the jail building has been kept as it was after the Israeli withdrawal, including the graffiti scratched on the wall, but not most of the instruments of "moderate"* torture, which are horrendous in their cruel effectiveness, yet don't leave marks on the body, like concrete blocks people were tied to and made to sit on day and night in all weather, or metal grates they were locked in standing, not able to sit or lean. just little things that aren't the worst horror of the occupation, but make me sick just the same, knowing that their use was justified by the excuse of keeping me and my family safe.

the sports centre, by the way, was trashed by soldiers during the April incursion into Al-Farrah. for security reasons no doubt. I didn't see the damage myself, so can't attest to its severity, but the Michigan people made a video of it. I hope they send it to Sweden, so the people there can see what a ridiculous squandering of their donor money was performed on behalf of the state of Israel, who is always so happy to point out the greed and corruption in the PA as the sole reason why money doesn't benefit the Palestinian public.

when the day heat subsided a bit, we set off to nablus. G drove us up the road, as close as he could, but as the army has demolished the road at several points, all movement is by foot. we walked for about an hour and a half to get to Nablus city centre, through the Askar and Balata refugee camps, Balata, recent scene of particularly vicious attack by paratroopers, is covered with shaheed (martyr) posters. on route we had to cross a couple of unmanned checkpoints, and there I saw my first tank. Most Israelis have been on a tank at some point in their life, usually it's a burned out shell from some war or other, many are littered around the country. but a live one is definitely not a welcoming sight. I was worried from the moment we left Jerusalem, and I am not ashamed to say that I was really scared at that point, and my fear lasted throughout the visit, until I actually had a soldier in an APC point a gun at me. for some irrational reason, I stopped being scared from then onwards.

a couple of activists came to fetch us, as we were in mobile phone contact all day, and we ended up in the offices of the UPMRC in central nablus around 7 in the evening. The Union of Palestinian Medical Relief Committees is a Palestinian NGO set up in the mid 80s, as far as I know, by the then communist party. They have a couple of offices, and their activities include distributing medications and operating ambulances, but I think they are also a centre of activism. the ISM is working with the UPMRC from their offices in Nablus and Ramalla, not sure about other cities.

the idea is that the internationals are put up with families, and in public buildings, but it didn't work out that night, so we, quite surreally, had to stay at the Al Yasmeen, hotel, in the old city of Nablus. totally fucking crazy. the hotel is fab, (used to be frequented by businessmen etc.) and the best in town, though no one stays there anymore, except for a Reuters reporter, who has been there for two years. they have AC and Satellite TV in every room, and do a great breakfast. in the April incursion, it was used for 2 days by a commando unit. (I'm not sure, when Palestinians use the word "commando" if they mean a special unit (like the English SAS) or just regular infantry soldiers.) At any rate, the soldiers didn't enter through the door, but rather blew a hole up in one of the rooms. they drank the bar dry, told us the receptionist, who joked that he wanted to serve them a bill. it was one example of several occasions when I heard Palestinians express a dry, sarcastic, sense of humour, though it wasn't common. (another time was when I was sat with a bunch of ambulance drivers, during a break in the shift, and shots were fired from a distance.

I was shitting myself, as I was whenever I heard a long gun battle, and they were completely unfazed. I was trying to join in with their jokes by saying "I'm scared, but you guys are like, whatever, right? you're so used to it" and he replied "well, sometimes we die" which made me want to swallow my words.)

in the morning, we had a meeting to get to know the rest of the ISM'rs in Nablus, and figure out what we will be doing. the main activities of the ISM in Nablus are house visits, where people go over to houses where Palestinian families are kept locked in by army units who have commandeered their houses, basically as human shields. The other thing is accompanying ambulances on their rounds, in the hope that they will have it easier with the roadblocks, etc. I ended up doing both things during the day and night, and I think they really are worth while. it is very rare to feel that you have affected the situation, but I definitely felt that our presence helped a few Palestinians a minuscule bit. we visited a family trapped in the first floor of a house in the Askar camp, where the top floors were taken over by soldiers. a tank and a few APC's were parked outside, and I am pretty sure that it was from that tank that the shots were fired, about 2 hours earlier, that killed a 19 year old in askar, (he broke curfew, and threw, or didn't throw, stones) for the simple reason that there were no other tanks in the area.

earlier we had witnessed his blood on the pavement on our way to the house visit. some of the soldiers who might, or might have not, been involved in that incident were hanging around the house, and two of our group approached them and managed to be let in to see the family, who are basically kept in their front room and only let out briefly when curfew is lifted. we brought them some painkillers, and got to chat with them a little bit, and arrange the return to the house of a few more relative the following day. in the frustrating reality, that was a success.

later that night I had a shift at the red crescent, with the ambulance drivers. I have to say that was the thing that scared me most of all, because I thought no one can tell that the ambulance moving around at night has an international on it, and we might just get shot by some random patrol. the other thing that scared me was the fact that we kept hearing shots from the direction of the Rafidiah hospital, in western Nablus, which we kept driving to, so that was pretty worrying. But all our trips ended without an encounter with soldiers. then, at about 1 AM, we saw a line of 1 tank, some APC's, and an army ambulance, moving up the hill where the red crescent centre was stationed. the tank stopped down the road, and an APC drove up into the ambulance parking lot, and eventually (all this took fucking ages because tanks travel very slowly, so we actually sat there and finished our cups of tea while the convoy traveled up the hill) a soldier showed up, pointed his rifle at us and demanded to see our ID cards. at that point there were about 8 paramedics, ambulance drivers, and volunteers at the station, and myself being the only international.

As I said earlier, at that point I stopped being scared. I think it is just that I expected unknown dangers, like snipers shooting at us, being accidentally shot by soldiers, settlers, Palestinians etc, and the minute something concrete happened, I didn't really have to worry anymore. anyway, the soldiers apparently were searching and arresting some people who were staying in the adjacent mosque, and I guess the orders were to cover from above. we sat there about half an hour, while the soldiers checked the ID cards. then a couple of other ISM'rs showed up, they came over as reinforcements, as they were worried that the raid was of the ambulance centre. I have to say I felt that they were also pretty excited to be in the middle of a drama.

at some point we were allowed into the building, as it was getting cold outside. T, a cheeky yet charming ambulance driver and myself approached the soldiers, T was talking to them in Hebrew and translating for me, which was very funny, and we enquired about the ID cards. I noticed that T, and some other Palestinians definitely pushed their boundaries a little bit whenever the soldiers ordered them around, a sort of quiet resistance. anyway, inspired by that, I asked the soldier when the operation will be over. "it'll be over when it's over" he answered, so I said, "we have ambulances that need to go out to patients". T joined in with me, and again, pushed for the ID cards to be returned to the crew so we can go out.

eventually, and after consultation with the officer, and a negotiation involving another ISM'er, the APC was moved out of the way, and we could take the ambulance out. it was a very small gain, (I deliberately am not using the word victory) but I felt good about it. what we did was point out to the soldiers how stupid their orders were, and how they were in the way and stopping us from performing a valuable service, and we challenged their certainty that everything they are doing is for security reasons. also, the international presence pushed them to a little concession they might not have made, or the Palestinians might not have been in a position to ask for.

I left Nablus the following morning. Curfew was lifted that day for a few hours, and it was a true pleasure to see the city start a day that is a little closer to what its normal life is. the (usually hated) sound of cars, and open shops were really exciting after 2 days with hardly anyone in the street. people were out shopping, some people were working. We walked about an hour to the Hawara checkpoint, which we didn't cross on the way in, and passed it easily with the soldier glancing at us as if we were strange, but not stopping us (unlike the tens of Palestinians who were waiting to cross, or not to cross). 50 minutes later, I was in Jerusalem.

it's really hard to get my head round what I've experienced. basically, the idea that there is any symmetry in the situation between Israel and Palestine is completely ridiculous. suicide bombings have definitely created immense fear, but they have hardly prevented us all from going to work, living our lives and having fun, and having something else on our minds aside from the occupation. Palestinians have nothing else to think of 24/7. almost every basic freedom has been taken from them. we are also starving and suffocating them, in the name of security, while we still enjoy a reasonable life.

also, another thing that kills me is how much of the misery is arbitrary, stupid and pointless. (I'm not saying that there is a way to make the occupation more palatable, rather that sometimes insane hardship is caused by some random 18 year old macho, aside from deliberate destruction as official policy)

anyway, I hope I can make it to Palestine again, for a longer time, I'll keep you posted. from sweltering Tel Aviv, sarit

in terms of the issues I feel are problematic in the ISM, my main critique is twofold. one side is the fact that I feel that most of the activists in the ISM don't really know much about the history and roots of the conflict, and that means they, in my opinion, lack a main component in the proper analysis required to do constructive activism on Palestine. I am not saying that the ISM has to adopt more Israel views, or "balance" its reports. or even denounce armed Palestinian resistance. I think it is completely fine for global non- violent activists to be in solidarity with the people suffering aggression. but I do think that the people visiting for a couple of weeks know very little about the history of the conflict, and that there is hardly any attempts to even talk to Israelis and understand their reality (not agree, just understand) and culture. the only Israelis the ISM'rs get to meet are soldiers, who are usually young, stupid and aggressive and definitely not articulate, and settlers. they occasionally meet radical leftists like me, but that's not really an encounter with commonly held Israeli views, so again, not really representative.

I think that if I had to go to Chiapas, say, I would try to learn as much about Mexican culture and history, not just show up and expect to figure it out. language, too, is an issue. I don't expect everyone to be like my friend M. and study the basics of both Arabic and Hebrew, but to figure out how to read a few letters/numbers in Arabic would be a sign of good will, and willingness to really immerse yourself in the culture, rather than just popping over for a couple of weeks. I'm aware that not everyone can do it, but trying is also important, and in my opinion would be more valuable (and appreciated by our Palestinian comrades) than following certain vague customs (like not sitting with the bottoms of your feet showing, which, I was told, is apparently impolite).

the other issue I have with the ISM is that sometimes they are so self obsessed they forget that they are not the real story, and that affects the work sometimes. By that I don't mean to slag off any of the main organisers I met in Palestine, I think they are doing a good job in insane circumstances, but I have encountered some situations where the story became "international peace activists" and what they did. this might be a good tactic for media visibility in a world increasingly uninterested in Palestinians, but one must remember not to really believe it, and I felt occasionally that people did. there are reasons. very little of the activists speak Arabic or Hebrew, and as the internet and TV are not widely available, and they don't understand either Israeli or Palestinian broadcasts, they rely mostly on each other for news, which means that the smallest incident which happened to an international becomes central.

I also do feel that sometimes, not always but it does happen, there is an excitement and feeling of drama which is perpetuated by people looking to do something really worth while. I have also experienced exaggerations in the descriptions of events where I was present, more due to drama peddling than attempting to make the occupation look worse than it is (as if that is possible...) I also feel that some people are looking for action, and show off sometimes if they did something especially cool, like be in the arafat compound, church of the nativity, etc. I find this to be annoying, macho and disrespectful to the struggle.

*   when i say moderate torture i mean that the israeli security service was allowed the use of "moderate physical pressure" in interrogating palestinians, after the exposure of torture and extra judiciary killings of palestinians.