KISAH ANAK ANAK PALESTINA

'Oh, Tuhan! Saya tidak pernah melihat pemandangan mengerikan seperti ini,'' kata Abu Aukal, sambil menangis tersedu.

Abu Aukal adalah seorang dokter. Bertugas di bagian gawat darurat, dia telah terbiasa menangani korban terluka maupun tewas akibat agresi Israel di Jalur Gaza, dalam berbagai kondisi. Tapi, tidak untuk yang satu ini. Dia hampir tak memercayai apa yang dilihatnya.

Beberapa hari lalu, di kamp pengungsi Jabaliya, yang terletak di bagian utara Gaza City, tak jauh dari pintu perbatasan Erez, seorang bocah perempuan, Shahd (4 tahun), sedang bermain di halaman belakang rumahnya. Tiba-tiba, tentara Zionis Israel menyerang dan menembak membabi-buta. Bocah gemuk yang lucu itu bersimbah darah.

Melihat anaknya tergeletak di lantai dengan kondisi mengenaskan, kedua orang tuanya buru-buru mengulurkan tangan hendak meraihnya. Tapi, serdadu Israel mengusirnya dengan hujan peluru. Kedua orang tua itu pun meninggalkan tempat itu, sementara anaknya masih tertidur di sana: entah sedang sekarat, entah sudah tewas.

Rupanya tentara Israel yang selalu membawa anjing pelacak saat melakukan serangan darat ke Jalur Gaza, memang punya maksud tertentu dengan tindakannya itu. Jenazah Shahd sengaja dibiarkan tergeletak di halaman terbuka itu untuk (maaf) dijadikan santapan anjing.

''Anjing-anjing itu meninggalkan satu bagian utuh tubuh bayi malang itu,'' kata Abu Aukal, dengan air mata berderai, saat menuturkan cerita tragis itu, seperti dikutip islamonline, kemarin.

''Kami melihat pemandangan memilukan selama 18 hari terakhir (agresi Israel). Kami mengangkat mayat anak-anak yang tercabik atau terbakar. Tapi, tak ada yang seperti ini,'' kata Abu Aukal.

Berhari-hari saudara Shahd, Matar, dan sepupunya, Muhammad, mencoba meraih tubuh gadis itu, tapi sia-sia. Lagi-lagi, tentara pendudukan Israel menggunakan bahasa tembakan untuk mengusir kedua bocah itu.

Tapi, melihat tubuh Shahd yang terus dicabik anjing dari hari ke hari, Matar dan Muhammad tak tahan. Pada hari kelima, keduanya nekat mendekati tubuh Shahd yang masih tersisa untuk membawanya pulang. Belum lagi keduanya meraih tubuh Shahd, tentara Israel menghujani dengan tembakan. Keduanya tewas.

Omran Zayda, tetangga Shahd, menilai tentara Israel sangat mengetahui apa yang mereka lakukan. ''Mereka (tentara Israel--Red) menghalau dan mencegah keluarga yang ingin mengambil mayat (Shahd), karena mengetahui anjing-anjing mereka akan memakannya,'' katanya.

Apa yang terjadi pada Shahd, kata Zayda, tak bisa digambarkan dengan kata-kata, tidak pula rekayasa kamera. ''Anda tidak akan pernah membayangkan apa yang telah dilakukan anjing-anjing itu kepada tubuh anak tak berdosa itu,'' kata pria ini sambil menahan air matanya.

Zayda menambahkan, ''Mereka bukan hanya membunuh anak-anak kami. Mereka juga melakukan tindakan yang sangat keji dan tak berperikemanusiaan.'' Sejumlah orang Palestina meyakini apa yang terjadi pada Shahd bukanlah satu-satunya kasus mengerikan yang dilakukan tentara Israel kepada warga Palestina di Gaza.

Sebelumnya, menimpa keluarga Abu Rabu yang sedang mencoba menguburkan tiga anggota keluarganya yang tewas, ketika tentara Israel secara tiba-tiba mencegah acara penguburan itu dengan berondongan peluru. Saat keluarga yang sedang berduka itu menjauh, tentara Israel melepaskan anjing-anjing pelacaknya ke arah tubuh-tubuh itu. Peristiwa ini juga terjadi di Jabaliya.

''Apa yang terjadi ini sangat mengerikan dan tak terbayangkan,'' kata Saad Abu Rabu, salah satu anggota keluarga itu. ''Anak-anak kami tewas di depan mata kami, tapi kami bahkan dicegah untuk menguburkan mereka. Orang-orang Israel melepaskan anjing-anjing ke arah tubuh-tubuh mereka, seakan yang mereka lakukan belum cukup,'' katanya sambil menangis.

Masih di Jabaliya, harian terkemuka Israel, Haaretz, melaporkan seorang dokter Palestina, dr Issa Salah (28), dibunuh tentara Israel, Senin (12/1), ketika sedang menolong korban serangan Israel. Menurut Mizan--sebuah organisasi kemanusiaan di Gaza--saat itu Issa dan timnya memasuki gedung yang diserang misil Israel.

Issa dan timnya masuk ke gedung itu sambil meminta yang selamat untuk meninggalkan gedung, sementara tim medis itu mencari mereka yang menjadi korban. Tapi, beberapa menit kemudian, sebuah helikopter kembali menembakkan misilnya ke gedung itu. Issa pun tewas. Serangan itu juga menewaskan sejumlah wanita dan anak-anak.

Tewasnya dr Issa membuat jumlah petugas medis yang dibunuh selama agresi Israel di Jalur Gaza menjadi tujuh orang. Selain itu, tiga rumah sakit dan empat klinik kesehatan juga dihancurkan oleh mesin-mesin perang Zionis.

Peristiwa kelam yang terjadi di Gaza memang memilukan. Tak ada lagi sejengkal pun tempat yang aman untuk berlindung dari kebuasan mesin-mesin perang Israel. Bahkan, Israel pun seolah tak lagi mempunyai hati untuk sekadar memberi perlakuan yang baik kepada orang-orang yang telah dibunuhnya.

Apa yang terjadi di Gaza, menurut pejabat senior United Nation Relief and Work Agency, John Ging, merupakan ''tes bagi kemanusiaan kita.''

When did Islam come to Palestine?

Arabs began a series of conquests in the 7th century AD under the leadership of the Prophet Muhammad during the rise of Islam. Muhammad was born in Makkah (Mecca) in the western part of the Arabian Peninsula, a city on the trade routes connecting Yemen to the south, the Mediterranean to the north, the Persian Gulf to the east, and Africa through the Red Sea port of Jeddah to the west. Muhammad delivered a spiritual and social message based on the unity and oneness of God, derived from Jewish and Christian concepts already well established in Arabia. In 622, Muhammad founded the first Muslim community in Medina. His immensely popular message confronted the weakness of the Byzantine and Sasanian empires and led to the success of a series of dramatic conquests. Within 20 years of Muhammad’s death in 632, Muslim Arabs ruled a territory extending from Egypt deep into Iran.

Palestine was invaded by Muslim Arab armies during this period, capped by the capture of Jerusalem in 638 AD. The invasion was bloody for the long-established Christian and Jewish inhabitants and the countryside was devastated. This was the start of 1300 years of Muslim presence in what the Arabs called Filastin, an Arabic rendition of the name Palaestina assigned by the Romans. Mohammed originally designated that his followers must face Jerusalem when praying, a gesture designed to win support from Arabian Jews. Later, Muslims switched to praying toward Mecca, and the Koran does not mention Jerusalem. In 715 AD, the site from which the prophet was believed to have ascended to Heaven on a night journey was arbitrarily associated with Jerusalem where the Dome of the Rock had been built in 687 AD by Caliph Abd al-Malik. Based on this association, the Al-Aqsa Mosque was built at the same site and the city became, after Makkah and Medina, the third holiest city of Islam. See the topic on Jerusalem for more information.

The Muslim Arabs ruled Palestine under the system of dhimmitude, the rules that apply to non-Muslim populations conquered by jihad. There is a myth that the time of Islamic rule was a “golden age” for Jews and that they were better treated by the Muslims than by the Christians. This myth has been shattered by scholarship that shows continuous persecution of Jews and Christians under Islamic rule.

What is the Arab history in Palestine?

Arabs are not a singular people. Origins are complex and intermingled with many peoples and lines.
According to tradition, true Arabs are descendants of Abraham and his son Ishmael and prior to the 20th century, “Arab” designated the Bedouin, tribal-based society of the Arabian desert, which is the birthplace of Arabic. Other Arabs are ethnic groups that have been extant in their lands of origin for millennia. Modern Arab nationalism is a product of 19th- and 20th-century developments and has no prior historical basis. Before the rise of nationalism, most Arabic-speakers identified themselves as members of a particular family or tribe; as residents of a village, town, or region; as Muslims, Christians, or Jews; or as subjects of large political entities such as the Ottoman empire.

Historians generally agree that the ancient Semitic peoples (Assyrians, Aramaeans, Canaanites (including the Phoenicians and Hebrews) and, later, the Arabs themselves) migrated into the area of the Fertile Crescent. Arab invasions came after successive crises of overpopulation in the Arabian Peninsula beginning in the third millennium BC and ending with the Muslim conquests of the 7th century AD. These peoples spoke languages based on similar linguistic structures, and the modern Semitic languages of Arabic, Hebrew, and Amharic (the language of Ethiopia) maintain important similarities.

In approx. 1200 BC, the Petra area (in modern Jordan, about 80 kilometers south of the Dead Sea) was populated by Edomites, descended from Esau according to the Bible, and was known as Edom (“red”). Before the Israelites arrived in Canaan and repeatedly battled with them, the Edomites controlled the fertile valleys from the Red Sea at Elath to the Dead Sea, and hence the trade routes from Arabia in the south to Damascus in the north.

Subsequently, the Nabataeans, one of many Arab tribes, migrated into Edom, forcing the Edomites to move into southern Palestine. By 312 BC the Nabataeans occupied Petra and made it the capital of their kingdom. The Edomites were later forcibly converted into Judaism by John Hyrcanus (died 105 BC), and then became an active part of the Jewish people. Petra prospered as the principal city of the Nabataean empire from 400 BC to AD 106 when it was absorbed by the Romans. The Nabataeans flourished in the spice trade and engineered an impressive hydraulic engineering system of pipes, tunnels, and channels that carried drinking water into the city and reduced the chance of flash floods.

After the Roman conquest of Judea, the Nabataeans and others, “Palastina” became a province of the pagan Roman Empire and then of the Christian Byzantine Empire, and very briefly of the Zoroastrian Persian Empire. In 638 AD, an Arab-Muslim Caliph took Palastina away from the Byzantine Empire and made it part of an Arab-Muslim Empire. The Arabs, who had no name of their own for this region, adopted the Greco-Roman name Palastina, that they pronounced “Falastin”.

In 1099, Christian Crusaders from Europe conquered Palestine and took Jerusalem. After 1099, it was never again under Arab rule. The Christian Crusader kingdom lasted less than 100 years. Thereafter, Palestine was joined to Syria as a subject province first of the Egyptian Mameluks, and then of the Ottoman Turks, whose capital was in Istanbul.

Little Hope in Gaza Aftermath

By Jeremy Bowen – Gaza City

I can't imagine what Gaza would be like if it didn't have the sea. The other morning its tiny piece of the Mediterranean was coming in lazy and calm, and a light breeze was blowing down the beach.

If you are Gazan and your soul is troubled, or if you just want some space, the beach must be one of the better places to go.

Most of Gaza's 1.5 million Palestinians are impoverished and are not allowed to leave by their Israeli and Egyptian neighbours.

It is hard to think of another place in the world that can be as oppressive.

But considering that Gazans have so much experience of war, loss and bloodshed, it is remarkable that the human spirit here is so resilient.

But it has been severely tested by everything that has happened this year.

Life was hard enough anyway before the January conflict, mainly because of the blockade imposed by Israel and supported by its allies.

Eighty per cent of Gaza's population lives in poverty, defined here as an income of less than $2 daily.

But since the Israeli offensive things have got much worse. The UN says that 35,000 people don't have running water. More than 20,000 homes have been destroyed or damaged.

In the Egyptian resort of Sharm al-Sheikh in early March international donors promised US $4.48 bn to rebuild Gaza.

The money, which comes in through procedures designed to keep it away from Hamas, the Islamist group that controls Gaza, has funded some of the immediate needs of the population.

But it hasn't yet made a difference to the way that people live.

Israel still will allow in virtually no building materials - such as steel, cement and piping - which it says Hamas would use for military purposes.

Living in Tents

So the people who have been living in tents, or in the ruins of their homes, still do.

Next to the village of Izbet Abed Rabbo, now mainly rubble, in the northern Gaza Strip close to the border with Israel, lines of frame tents are pitched in orderly rows.

They are nice ones, the sort you will see this summer if you go to one of the camping sites on more peaceful stretches of the Mediterranean coast.

They were not cheery bright holiday colours but khaki, which suggests they came from someone's army.

Life in Gaza can be intense. Pain and suffering runs very deep, and pleasure when it comes is something to grab and hold hard.

Near the tents in Izbet Abed Rabbo they were having a children's party.

A man dressed as a clown was supervising some boisterous games. In one of them blindfolded children were racing to feed another one, unblindfolded, a whole pot of runny-looking chocolate pudding.

The girl who ate fastest looked like she was going to drown as her big sister advanced on her with the spoon.

The prize was a small bunch of carnations, beautiful fresh flowers that used to go for export.

They have no commercial value anymore, but the children who were given them, whose families have lost everything, looked as if they liked them very much.

A solemn man in a tweed jacket walked out of the chaos and explained that the games (including orange peeling contests and races to blow flour off a plate) were designed to help the children recover from everything they have been through.

He was proud that the volunteers who had organized it, all local people, had paid for the party too.

It seemed as important for their mental health as it was for the children's.

In this part of the Middle East one of the most damaging consequences of the last years of bloodshed has been the loss of hope.

I met Raad al-Athamna, a taxi driver and father of seven children, who stood on a low pile of rubble that was his house until Israeli forces destroyed it.

He thumbed through photos of a decent home surrounded by mature trees, children playing in Gaza's dusty sunshine and doing their school studies.

Raad worked hard to create that life for his family, which has now gone.

Now his 12-year-old boy wets the bed every night, another child sleepwalks and his eldest girl, once a star pupil, has nowhere to study and cries when she thinks about the future.

Across the Border

It is not just Palestinians who worry about what happens next.

Over the border in the Israeli town of Sderot, which has borne the brunt of Palestinian rocket fire over the last eight years, I met Avi Mamam.

He is a fireman whose house was badly damaged by a rocket fired out of Gaza.

The experiences of Israelis and Palestinians either side of the Gaza border in December and January were not equivalent.

One hundred times more Palestinians than Israelis died. The level of destruction in Gaza is massively more extensive than in Israel.

But Avi, who was looking after his elderly, wheelchair bound mother as he showed me round what is left of his house, still seems to be at a crossroads, looking ahead at a future that should be much more certain.

He is a family man, with sons in the army, wondering whether it is worth rebuilding within rocket range of Gaza, assuming his compensation comes through.

Avi, like the overwhelming majority of Israelis, believes the war was justified.

But in the end, he says, there will have to be some sort of agreement with Hamas, because they are part of real life in this part of the world and people, on both sides, need to live in peace.

Reflections of a Palestinian-American

By Susan Muaddi

I am a Palestinian-American. My parents came to the United States in 1967. I have visited my family and friends in the West Bank on numerous occasions. I have family in Ramallah, one of the centers of the current conflict between the Israelis and the Palestinians (what is being referred to in the Arab world as intifadaht al-Aqsa, or “the intifadah of al-Aqsa”), and they have suffered more in the last three weeks that I expect to in my lifetime.

Because there is nothing else that I can do, I have become a television and telephone addict. I watch the news for several hours a day. I call friends and family to hear the latest updates on the clashes: which city has been blockaded, whose neighbor has been shot, whose window was blown out. I study the photographs taken by news journalists, because I often recognize certain buildings or even people. One summer, about three years ago, I rented a room in a dormitory that stands exactly one block away from the police station that was bombed in Ramallah. I was remembering how I used to walk past it every day on my way to the grocery store or to the taxi stand: this is what was going through my mind when I saw the building explode in a rain of missiles on television.

Perhaps it is because I have been so steeped in the media language lately, but I am tired of hearing phrases such as the “Palestinian attack on” and the “Palestinian violence against” Israel. I have a difficult time understanding how a largely unarmed civilian population could lead an “attack” of such magnitude on the professionally trained Israeli Defense Force that the IDF would have no choice but to respond with live ammunition and missile attacks. Indeed, the number of casualties should offer ample proof that this is not a fair battle; of over 100 deaths to date, only seven of these have been Israelis.

Furthermore, the Israelis have insisted on a “blame the victim” rhetorical tactic that Yasir Arafat is the one responsible for the deaths of young Palestinian stone throwers. Such remarks understandably upset Arab and Palestinian-Americans such as myself, because we know that this is untrue. This latest Intifadah is, like its predecessor, one born of frustration. These youths are fiercely independent and do not obey such commands as “go open your chests to the Israeli bullets” (this is what one Israeli source quoted Arafat as saying to young Palestinians). As Hanan Ashrawi said, “We (the Palestinians) cry every night because these are our children who are dying.”

For Palestinians who grew up under occupation, patience is a virtue that goes largely unrewarded. The kind of inhumane response their protests have received have only fueled the fire. Unless the Israelis understand that people can only be pushed so far until they explode, and until Israel's government decides that Palestinians have the right to protest their occupation, the rage will continue and it will know no end.

Last Friday, I returned home from a pro-Palestinian rally in Philadelphia. I felt spiritually buoyed by the sight and sound of over 1,000 people chanting slogans such as “Stop Using Bullets Against Stones” and “Demand Protection of Palestinian Human Rights.” I was also refreshed and encouraged by the presence and participation of many non-Arabs in the rally, including members of the Black Muslim community, Jewish-Americans and members of the Religious Society of Friends.

Eager to catch the evening news coverage of the rally, I boiled water for a cup of tea and settled down on my couch.

“Demonstrators today burned the Israeli flag,” said one anchorwoman. Another said, “Muslims gathered in downtown Philadelphia today to denounce Israel.” I continued to flip through the channels: “Men carrying flags and waving their fists walked alongside women who wore veils and pushed baby carriages.”

I was terribly upset by the lopsided coverage of the rally. Yes, someone did burn the Israeli flag, but the demonstration was largely peaceful. Yes, many Muslims were in attendance, but so were Christians and Jews. In fact, one of the speakers at the rally was the Reverend Paul Washington, a long-time civil rights activist. And yes, some women were veiled and some mothers were pushing their children in baby strollers as they marched, but as far as I could tell, that information was relevant only insofar as it exaggerated and maintained the age-old stereotype of Arab Muslim women as oppressed and silenced creatures.

As I sat on my couch that evening, hoping to hear a semi-accurate account of the day's event, I realized something: I was tired.

I turned off the television on Friday night and went to bed earlier than usual. I was not anticipating any positive coverage of the rally in the morning's paper either, so I wanted to be well rested for the disappointment. It is difficult enough to know that one's homeland — one's family and friends — is under siege. It is even worse to know that one's current homeland often distorts the truth of the tragedy.

A Palestinian's Journey

By Sabi Atteyih

The radio was blaring with news that the British army, which occupied Palestine at the time, turned over the country to a handful of European Jews; they decided to call the land Israel. News stories recounted atrocities and massacres committed against the Palestinian people. The year was 1948. For Sabi Atteyih, the news started his life story fifteen years before he was born.
I

Like many other Palestinians, Sabi's grandfather, Mohammad Atteyih, decided to retreat temporarily to neighboring countries such as Syria, Jordan and Lebanon with his wife, six sons (one was Sabi's father) and two daughters awaiting the promise that the Arabic army would restore peace and give the lands, homes, businesses and olive groves back to their rightful owners.

In Syria, away from the destruction of innocent lives, the Palestinians suffered a similar fate as the Palestinians in other neighboring countries; unemployment, crowded schools, unbelievable living conditions and discrimination top the list. In a few years life was unbearable for Ismail, Sabi's father, who was only 19 at the time. Faced with the responsibility of helping his father (Mohammad), unable to tolerate dreadful living conditions and seeking an education, he traveled to Yemen southeast of Saudi Arabia.

Once in Yemen, Ismail had a bit of luck balancing school and work, in addition to being able to send some money to help the rest of the family in Syria. After ten years, Ismail armed with a degree in pharmaceuticals, moved north to Kuwait and found a job in his field. While traveling back and forth to Syria to visit a his family, Ismail met a young woman named Khayreia who was a Palestinian. After a year, Ismail and Khayreia married and she moved to Kuwait with her husband. There, three children, two girls and one boy, were born. They were also Palestinians.

In 1966, just when things started looking good for the whole Atteyih family in Syria and Kuwait, the Kuwaiti government accused Ismail of conspiracy to overthrow the king of Kuwait. Ismail was seen in a group of Palestinians that may have met to demand better living conditions. With only 48 hours to leave Kuwait, the family of five was deported, never to be allowed back. Once again Syria seemed to draw Ismail back, but this time with a bigger load. Syria continued to absorb many Palestinians from the 1948 immigration which contributed to the housing shortages. Ismail, his wife and three children lived at his parents' house until able to find a place to call home. (One can imagine what it must have been like at “Grampa's house.”)

Living in Syria and working in the same city with his brothers, Ismail's life was once again stable. Ismail and Khayreia were the proud parents of another boy, bringing the family to two boys and two girls.

In the summer of 1973, Ismail received an invitation from his brother-in-law. Khayreia's brother had moved to Syria in 1948, then on to the United States in 1959. At his request, Ismail, Khayreia and two of the children packed their suitcases and visited him in the United States. While the visit in New Jersey was brief, the United States “bug” bit Ismail: He was fascinated with the American way of life, the open market economy, five-day work weeks, innocent until proven guilty in a court of law and — baseball.

Ismail returned to his home in Syria dreaming the impossible dream: “I need to help provide a better future for my kids. I want them to experience peace, happiness, good education and, most of all, success.” Years went by, yet the dream was still running. In 1978, Ismail applied for immigration to the United States of America. At that time, Sabi was fourteen years old and he again spent the summer in the States while his father, Ismail and Uncle Saleh were working on moving the entire family to the States. The application took three years to process. In 1980, a heart attack ended Ismail Atteyih's life, but not his dream. A visa arrived several months after his death which enabled Khayreia to carry on the dream with her four children. In August of 1981 they moved to the United States. At the time, the oldest of the children was 18.

Sabi was only sixteen when his father died, but the years spent with his father, traveling around Europe and the Middle East, taught him so much. The most important lesson was that he is always a Palestinian. No matter where or how they traveled, they would always be treated suspiciously—like criminals. While living in Syria, the passport issued was a Palestinian passport. The Arab countries, to preserve Palestinian nationality, issued Palestinian passports. With the Palestinian passport, they were often denied entry into certain countries.

Sabi was born in Kuwait but has never been considered a Kuwaiti. While this policy helped keep the Palestinian issue alive, it also enabled the whole world to discriminate against more than 10 million Palestinians scattered around the planet.

In 1986, Sabi received his American citizenship. For the first time, Sabi realized his father's dream: to roam the planet free without interrogation and to be simply treated like a human being.

Eleven years of isolation from aunts, uncles and cousins ended in December 1992 when Sabi was finally allowed to enter Syria for a period of thirty days. Because of a new Syrian law, Sabi returned for a short time without being forced to serve in the Syrian army. This law went into effect in 1992. Free to roam, Sabi felt as if he were in Europe once again with Ismail, but these feelings came with tears. They were Sabi’s tears as he walked the streets of Milan, Italy remembering a sweet past, when his father was showing him the landmarks; and remembering the bitter past when he had a label that frightened the world around him— Palestinian. No one can better describe the trip to Syria than Sabi Atteyih: “It was like a dream. I still cannot get over it. I can see the picture of the plane touching down in Damascus (Syria); the highway lights lead my eyes to the city, twinkling at night like a faraway galaxy. I can still smell the fresh winter air with a slight hint of a pine scent. I felt the earth shake, but it was I that was shaking, trembling as chills raced down my spine. What will they say? Will they remember my face? What are they thinking? These were the questions that echoed in my head the entire distance from the plane through the terminal and into the lobby. I could not believe my eyes when I saw the crowd that came to greet me. Had the entire city come out? It was impossible to recognize all the faces. It seems that some of the people had features I have seen but on a child's face twelve years before in 1981. It was as if I expected that nobody would change but myself. I felt like a stranger among my family. Yet I was in a place I called home for fifteen years. It was like asking a sailor to navigate in the Sahara Desert. I felt out of place.”

In Syria I visited the cemetery that holds my father's grave. For most of an hour, I sat like a messenger telling the stone that represented my father all the events that shaped our lives in the last twelve years. Oh, how I wished I could see Ismail's response when I described how successful his wife, sons and daughters are and how handsome his grandchild is. Somehow, I felt that he had been with us during our long and painful journey.

As the days went by, my relationship with my extended family grew stronger and before leaving I was loaded with memories, hugs, kisses, stories, photographs and gifts to connect us all. I headed back to Wisconsin (my new home), fueled by anger but directed by love. As I walk through life, I look forward to my next visit, hating the distance that has torn us apart. I find security in the thought of reuniting our big family (now scattered over seven countries) in a place called Palestine.

(Sabi Atteyih branched off from the family restaurant— “Lulu's” in Madison and now owns Casbah, also in Madison. His feelings and sense of isolation from his homeland are a common thread among millions of Palestinians in this world.)

ISRAEL-OPT: Israeli communities traumatized by Gaza rockets

April 20, 2011
NAHAL OZ (ISRAEL), 20 April 2011 (IRIN) - Israeli civilians living near the Gaza Strip are feeling the strain as a result of the recent escalation of violence between militants in Gaza and the Israeli army, and are calling for increased protection - though not another Gaza offensive.

Measures being taken by the Israeli government to protect civilians in the area (known as the southern district and covering nearly a third of the country) have increased, and include Israel's newly implemented missile defence system, Iron Dome, to intercept rocket attacks.

"Today one million Israelis live within range of rocket-fire from Gaza - around 60km from the Gaza border and growing," Israeli army spokesperson Lt-Col Avital Leibovitz told IRIN.

"Iron Dome is a technical solution, but it's still under operational adjustment," she said.

Two Iron Dome batteries have been deployed in Beersheba and Ashkelon as part of the operational trial. Four additional batteries are expected to be operational within two years.

Meanwhile, Israeli communities living in the southern district are increasingly anxious in the wake of the recent violence.

During the last two weeks the 6,500 residents covered by the Sha'ar HaNegev Regional Council, including 10 kibbutzim (collective Israeli communities, often sharing common social or religious values), have been under constant threat of rocket attacks, said Council spokesperson Michal Shaban-Kotzer. Many communities have been forced into protected shelters daily, sometimes for hours, multiple times per day, she said.

The Council's territory lies midway between Beersheba and Ashkelon, bordered on the west by Gaza.

Municipalities are providing trauma counselling for mothers and children.

Nightmares, bed-wetting

Hannah Tal, therapist and social worker from the three-year-old Resilience Centre that has treated some 400 members of the Sha'ar HaNegev community, said children suffer from bed-wetting, nightmares, and fear of being alone.

"Very few have been killed or injured by the attacks," said Tal. "The trauma results from the apprehension of not knowing where or when there will be an attack."

For the past few weeks movement on the street and children's playtime outside has been restricted, she said.

Tal and her own family, living in Karmia, between Ashkelon and Gaza, were forced to take shelter in the "safe-room" of their home 45 times last weekend, warned by loudspeakers announcing "code red".

Militants in Gaza fired at least 140 rockets (mostly crude, home-made Qassams) and mortars at Israel during four days of fighting on 7-10 April, reported the Israeli army, during which hundreds of thousands of Israelis took shelter in secure areas. Protective shelters are also located in public places, like bus stops and playgrounds. Two Israeli civilians were injured.

Most of the rockets fell in open areas, but several homes in the Eshkol region were hit.

During the same period the Israeli army launched a series of air strikes, tank-shelling and live ammunition fire at numerous targets throughout Gaza, killing 23 Palestinians, including 10 civilians, and injuring 65 Palestinians, including 46 civilians, according to the UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA).

In the past UN officials have denounced israel's disproportionate use of force against occupied Palestinian territory.

Ronit, a 40-year-old mother of two from Kibbutz Nahal Oz, part of Sha'ar HaNegev, who preferred only to give her first name, is visibly shaken by the recent wave of rocket-fire. She and her family, like many from the area, are spending the Jewish holiday, Passover, away from home.

"Safe rooms"

"We stayed in the secure room of our house for hours at a time during the attacks. We read stories and I told my three-year-old daughter we can't leave until we receive a text message from Uncle Yossi," said Ronit. Municipal authorities coordinate with the Israeli army to instruct civilians via text messages to their cell phones.

All homes in the area have "safe rooms" by Israeli law. Sha'ar HaNegev's new primary school is bomb-safe, and a new, safer high-school will be completed this September.

"My parents live in Ashkelon and I feel secure to go there because of Iron Dome," said Ronit.

Ronit and her husband, Dan, a high-school teacher, were part of an influx of new residents that came to the kibbutz during the two-year period of calm since Israel's Operation Caste Lead which ended in January 2009. Many young couples found the community's cheap real estate and good schools attractive.

Violence between Gaza militants and the Israeli army reignited in mid-March.

School bus hit

"I do not feel safe here after the school bus was attacked last week," said Ronit.

The school bus in the southern district was hit by an anti-tank rocket on 7 April, badly wounding the driver and a 16-year-old boy. It had dropped off children from the kibbutz just minutes before the attack.

Ronit and Dan are considering moving.

Hamas took credit for the attack that hit the school bus, but did not intend to target children, Hamas deputy foreign minister Ghazi Hamad in Gaza told IRIN.

The attack was a reprisal for the Israeli air force's killing of three figures in Hamas's military wing on 1 April.

"Hamas is against targeting civilians," said Hamad, adding: "Israel purposefully targets civilians in Gaza, and they have the military capabilities to be sure of their targets."

Hamad says outside forces, like Iran and Syria, are not influencing attacks against Israel emanating from Gaza.

Historically, Hamas has characterized its rocket attacks against Israel as part of its "resistance" to Israeli military occupation of Palestinian land.

Egyptian and UN mediators achieved an informal truce on 10 April, according to officials from the Gaza foreign ministry, ending weeks of cross-border violence, though the truce appeared to be unravelling on 15 April as tit-for-tat violence between the two sides started up again.

Israeli President Shimon Peres visited Nahal Oz on 14 April to show solidarity with residents, many of whom feel the government is not doing enough to protect them.

Few residents support another Gaza operation, knowing they will bear the brunt of attacks emanating from Gaza during a ground offensive.

Also, the success of Iron Dome has taken the pressure off Israeli leaders to launch such an offensive. The Israeli-developed system, funded in large part by the USA, uses cameras and radar to track incoming rockets and is designed to shoot them down within seconds of their launch.

Egypt's instability could be another reason why Israel might prefer to desist from launching further ground offensives, particularly near the Rafah border crossing in southern Gaza.

Nahal Oz resident Dan Solomon, aged 73, said: "One of the worst effects of this situation is that our children and grandchildren are too afraid to visit."

"Israel should target Hamas leaders," said Dan. "The people of Gaza bear the brunt of this conflict, not the leaders."

Four Israeli civilians died and 45 were injured due to incidents related to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict in 2010, says OCHA. During the same period, 35 Palestinian civilians died, and 1,500 were injured due to incidents related to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.

The Israeli national police and emergency service, Magen David Adom, were unable to confirm these figures upon IRIN's request.