Palestine: The Other Side of the Wall

Remember back in June when I was recounting my latest transportation-related misadventure of being Shanghai-ed by Muslim extremists and I said that it was “the closest feeling I'll probably ever experience to driving through the West Bank of Israel”? Well, I should now add a footnote to that which reads, ‘…until I actually went to the West Bank, that is.’

If you had asked me a month ago whether I planned to venture into the heart of what might well be the most tempestuously disputed territory in the world, I would have just shot you a brief but thorough ‘you-must-be-off-your-rocker’ look. And yet there I was yesterday amongst dozens of protesters in the West Bank town of Walagah, witnessing first hand the spirit, passion, and solidarity of the Palestinian people.

The most important thing to understand about the West Bank is that it is suppressed and controlled in an almost Orwellian ‘Big Brother’ sense by the Israeli government. A massive concrete barrier designed to keep in the Palestinians, dubbed locally as the ‘Apartheid Wall,’ surrounds the entire perimeter of the West Bank. Metallic towers created with the sole purpose of spying on the activity of its citizens are scattered intermittently through settlements and the countryside. At every exit of the Apartheid Wall, armed Israeli soldiers enforce checkpoints that prohibit residents of the West Bank to leave without permission… even to visit their own capital in Jerusalem. It wouldn’t be much of a stretch to call the Palestinian Territories a ‘prison-state.’ (Of course, it's not that Israel is a Big Bad Monster... like America, it just hasn't found the best solution to combat terrorism yet.)

Every week, there are a handful of organized demonstrations in the West Bank to express disapproval of the encroachments of the Israeli state on the rights of the Palestinian people. The protest that I attended [to the CIA: note that I did not say ‘participated in’] was in opposition to the further enclosure of the Walagah section of the Apartheid Wall.

The pre-protest rally was one of the most beautiful things that I’ve witnessed in a long time. Under the cover of a handful of trees, the organizer of the protest came forward and delivered a calm, collected speech to his fellow townspeople about the state of affairs in Walaguh. Old men and young boys alike listened intently while subconsciously fiddling with their Palestinian flags and banners. A cool breeze blew through the crowd, giving an eerie feeling like the calm before a storm. After everyone became clear of their objective, the townspeople prostrated towards Mecca and engaged in a Muslim prayer. It was incredibly sincere.

I have to admit that I was a bit scared when I entered the town; I’d recently heard stories of people being hit by the rubber bullets of riot police, and the sole piece of advice offered to me before my arrival was to carry half an onion in my pocket in case the crowd was tear-gassed. But in the end, the protest proceeded without a clash with the army. There were no burning effigies, guns, nor gas. After a great deal of effort on the hottest of days, the crowd managed to displace a pile of Israeli-placed boulders intended as a roadblock to their town. No one had any doubt that the army would come back with bulldozers the next day to put things the way they had been. That’s the way it has always happened. It was a small victory, but a very large demonstration of Palestinian solidarity.