PEEK INSIDE LIVES OF PALESTINIAN YOUTH LIVING UNDER ISRAEL'S RULE
Children, teens and young adults in Palestine live a different reality than most: illegal settlements, soldiers and checkpoints make growing up in a city under occupation complicated and tough
by Rebecca Bosy
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The peace negotiations between Israel and the Palestinian Territories got off to a rocky start this year. President Donald Trump’s declaration of Jerusalem as the capital of Israel escalated the already tense situation, to the point where the peace talks between Palestinian President Abbas and Israeli Prime Minister Netanyahu were almost abolished. Then, new video clips of Palestinian teenagers and children being dragged by soldiers surfaced online. The result? Media outrage and massive protests in all major cities in the Palestinian Territories, calling for the release of the children in custody.
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Living with the consequences of the long-standing conflict are the inhabitants of both Gaza and the West Bank. In Hebron, the largest city in the West Bank, the effects of settlements and years of military presence are palpable.
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The area’s religious significance is particularly important to both Islam and Judaism. Here, the Ibrahimi Mosque has stood tall for two millennia, famed for being the supposed burial ground of Abraham. As a result, both Jews and Muslims consider the city holy. After the Six Day War in 1967 and the Oslo Accords in 1993, Hebron was divided 80-20 between Palestinians and Israelis respectively. Today the city has a population of more than 200,000 Palestinians, and about 700 Israeli settlers. Neither party is able to roam free in all areas of the city; the two sectors are isolated, so the only people with access to both areas are the few tourists visiting. To separate the two sides - checkpoints, road blocks and buffer zones have been put into place by Israeli government - and the Israeli Defence Force (IDF) has a strong presence in the streets.
Children in Hebron learn early on that they can't experience true freedom
Hebron is one of the oldest cities in the world, built of limestone and sandstone
Ahmed Massad, 17, must walk past one checkpoint, then through another to access Hebron Old City - where local markets, shops and family businesses thrive in limestone buildings dating back hundreds of years. To access the New City - filled with fashion, restaurants and tall office buildings - he must go through another. The civilian observer group Temporary International Presence in Hebron (TIPH) estimates that Hebron alone is home to 113 military checkpoints, road blocks and closures.
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Ahmed lives with his father, Hassan, in a building which borders to the Israeli sector. The entire area is surrounded by tall metal fences, with only a few doors where residents can leave and enter. Although the doors are not currently staffed by the military, detectors scream every time a door is opened. Here, rebellious teens can’t sneak out at night.
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From the inside of the three-storey house, the family has a clear outlook on the bordering sectors. The view could be stunning; a blue sky and a desert landscape filled with pale stone houses is a marvellous sight, but the tanks parked outside ruin any illusion of peace. Soldiers are bustling around, each carrying a rifle at hip-level. A couple of settlers walks by. According to the United Nations, Israel’s illegal settlements have no legal validity and is classified as an occupation. The nation has so far been the target of 225 UN resolutions, of which they have been condemned in at least 45.
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Hassan Massad works for a Israeli human rights organisation, focussing on issues in his hometown. Ahmed admires his father, and aspires to be like him, even if curiosity comes with dangers. The teenager says Hassan is well known among the forces as an activist, and as his son, the soldiers will trouble him as well. “Sometimes, they will hit me,” he says.
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“Seeing soldiers every day makes people desensitised to the sight. Pushing the thoughts of them to the background, to stay sane”
ISRAA ASHWARI
Teacher and freelance translator
This is something Commander Benjamin Agar, 23, vehemently denies. At an IDF outpost by the Mosque, he is standing guard. For eight hours a day, in the scorching heat and in full uniform, young men and women stationed in Hebron are required to serve the checkpoints, as military service is obligatory for every able Israeli. Benjamin claims that despite being stationed in the city for three years, he has never perceived the soldiers as being violent or unethical.
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“It’s all lies,” he says, repeatedly. “We aren’t allowed to touch kids.” Despite the videos showing harsh treatment against adults and children alike, he maintains this stance, going on to explain why the checkpoints are necessary. “It’s important to check everyone in case they are carrying a knife. Israel is the holy land, we have a right to be here.”
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Ora Connolly, 21, a fellow soldier, supports the claim that many Palestinians may be lying about the conditions. However, he disagrees with Israel’s military presence in Hebron. “I don’t think we have any business being here,” he says, adding that the state’s continuous building of new settlements only makes the issue worse.
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Ora is a firm believer in a two-state solution and says that there can’t be peace until two independent states are established, each with rights over their own land and sea.
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While he is critical of the current political climate, he does not want to be affiliated with Breaking the Silence, an organisation of former Israeli soldiers who are speaking out about human rights abuses that occurred while they were serving. Ora still believes the soldiers are abiding by international law. “We don’t want to hurt anyone,” he says. “I’m just doing my job.”
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Israa Ashrawi, 27, does not agree, condemning the occupation and the soldiers who actively partake in it. She grew up in Hebron, but studied English literature in Edinburgh. Even though she enjoyed a life free of military presence, she returned to her hometown to teach at Hebron University and work as a freelance translator. She is politically active, often posting inspirational quotes and photos of Hebron on her Instagram account. She links the occupation to the likes of apartheid, and is not afraid to voice her thoughts.
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“Seeing soldiers every day makes people desensitised to the sight. Pushing the thoughts of them to the background, to stay sane,” she says. However, Israa wants to focus on the beauty of life, and she has an almost uncanny talent of finding the positivity in anything, no matter how small it might seem – a blooming flower, a sunny day or opening a nice message from one of her students. “Give love, and you shall receive.”
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Mechanical engineering student Ameer Shawar, 22, on the other hand, doesn’t want to be involved in politics at all. This way, he can keep all his “records clean”. Even so, he admits that the checkpoints littering the city are choking people. “It’s keeping leashes on them. It’s like living in a cage.” Walking through the metal gates of the checkpoints, he sometimes has to remove his jacket and shoes, and even lift up his shirt to show the guarding soldiers that he isn’t carrying a weapon. His belongings – phone, keys, watch, wallet – go on a table for a quick inspection. When he’s done, he must show the soldiers correct identification papers. Then, he can go through to the other side.
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Ameer was born and raised in Texas, but his parents moved back to their Palestinian roots in 2006, after spending more than three decades in the States. He says there are stark contrasts between the lifestyles.
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You probably wouldn’t think it now, but 40 years ago, the city and its inhabitants looked quite different. Girls would wear shorts and
t-shirts, their hair flowing freely. Despite initial conclusions, the change to the current trend was not religious, but cultural. As Israeli settlements began to appear and military control in the West Bank tightened, people began clutching their culture closer to their hearts. However, the dress code is slowly adapting to new fashion. The hijab has moved farther up the forehead, now showing the hairline, and skinny jeans have become increasingly popular. People also seem to have given up on the hope of a whole, united Palestine.
“People here don’t even want the original areas back,” Ameer says. “Most people would be happy if Israel just respected the 1967 borders.” In his opinion, politicians on both sides should look for ways to achieve peace in any possible way, so that people one day can roam the streets freely. He continues, saying he feels sorry for the children who spend their entire youth here. “Kids should be able to live their lives as just that – kids.”
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He can’t imagine himself living in Palestine after graduating. He hates the “daily routine” and wants to travel, so he can experience the world – and life – to its fullest. “I love Hebron,” he says, “but it’s just too small.”
Growing up in a city so divided, both culturally and politically, is sure to shape its people, and unless serious action is taken, division will keep occurring. Hebron cannot reach its full potential while its inhabitants are caged. As Ameer says: “We are all humans – we just want to live.”
*Names are changed for privacy reasons.
