Cafe Intifada, An Intellectual Salon
Where the Audience Becomes the Occupied and the Occupier:
Learn About the Israeli Occupation of Palestine Like Never Before
January 30,31 and February 5,6,7 2009
Bedlam Theatre, West Bank, Minneapolis
All shows 7.30pm
$10+ Sliding Scale, No One Turned Away
Meet Ghassan, a young Palestinian man imprisoned on a regular basis by the Israeli military, attempt to dine in what would be a 5 star hotel if it weren’t located in the Gaza Strip, lose your access to water for ‘military security’ reasons.
Join us for this unique evening of interactive political theatre relaying the situation on the ground under Israeli occupation. Taken from personal narratives, human rights websites and one on one dialogue the story unfolds amongst and with the audience leaving no one unaffected.
Written/directed by Flo Razowsky with stage productin by Josina Manu Maltzman, Café Intifada speaks from the voice of the outsider allowed in for a glimpse.
The script (a working draft):
List of characters:
SOLDIER 1 (dressed in olive green)
SOLDIER 2 (dressed in olive green)
SOLDIER 3 (dressed in olive green)
PALESTINIAN detained at checkpoint (jeans and button down shirt-type thing)
INTERNATIONAL WITNESS 1 (as-you-like freak)
INTERNATIONAL WITNESS 2 (as-you-like freak)
HOSTESS (in fancy black)
WAITER 1 (in waiter type all black)
WAITER 2 (in waiter type all black)
WAITER 3 (in waiter type all black)
DINER/DETAINED/GHASSSAN (‘normal’)
FRIEND (‘normal’)
VOICE (Dressed ‘normal’, could possibly be one of the International Witnesses)
RINGLEADER (I think of this character as being a ‘circus ringleader’ type. Jodhpurs, switch sleazy-like, with greased black hair, a pencil mustache, walking in amongst the tables)
RADIO ANNOUNCER (wearing obvious headphones and holding a microphone, holds a certain spot throughout chiming in when cued, speaks with deepened ‘radio’ voice.)
Non-actor roles:
Video tech
Security
LCD projected images on a wall go along with the story.
Opening:
Enter through checkpoint on outside of door
**Soldiers (at least 2) stand at guard, guns at the ready, checking IDs of those entering the show as if those entering are Palestinians and soldiers are Israeli.
‘Palestinian’ blindfolded, handcuffed on their knees to the side.
One or two ‘international witnesses’ off to the side, arguing/pleading/negotiating with soldiers, taking pictures and notes.
At some points the soldiers/a soldier can try to run off the internationals.
This continues until audience is seated and show begins. Depending on numbers, these soldiers can stay posted or become soldiers of the play.
Enter the venue.
“Welcome to Palestine” image projected on the wall
**Hostess (waiting at the bottom of the stairs, big smile, all drawn out and soapy,)
‘Welcome…’ ‘to Palestine’.
Greets and treats audience member as if someone entering a fine dining establishment, checks for reservations, determines number to be seated and passes on to a waiter who seats the party at a table. Waiter seats party and returns to Hostess in order to seat another party, until most space is filled, large number of people died down (15 minutes perhaps). Seating can happen in any pattern.
Tables will be marked with flags, Israel and Palestine.
If possible, tables will be arranged in room to represent the land (IE; the West Bank, ’48, Gaza, settlements)
Table will be set with water glasses and a full pitcher of water. Perhaps some pretty flowers. Possibly we can have snacks-little bowls of crunchy things.
And it begins:
RINGLEADER:
–Ladies and Gentlemen and everyone in between, Welcome to our evening of entertainment, our evening of information, our evening of occupation. Welcome to the almost premier evening of Café Intifada, an intellectual salon. This evening is a safe exhibition of a serious matter, a fun glimpse into a deadly situation, a night to learn and be moved to act. The fun of this evening is not to make light of such a horrific reality as the occupation of Palestine, but a means to convey the severity of the life while recognizing our privilege to be safe from it, a means to recognize that the strongest resistance a human is capable of is the continuation of life and laughter and a means of understanding something else.
The specifics herein, village and people’s names are real but not unique, used as a means to convey a general reality. Everyday this week, the situations talked about in the next hours are only a few examples of the many types of oppression that will occur, do occur, have been occurring and will continue to do so until this occupation ends. Day after day, these realities are happening on the ground regardless if the Ghassan of this evening is not actually the one it is happening to tomorrow on the ground.
PAUSE
So please, sit back, relax and welcome to the journey. I hope none of us will be the same for it.
VOICE, seated in view at a table, writing in a journal:
–Went to a street fair in ‘West’ Jerusalem tonight. Lot’s o’ Jews. Everyone having lot’s o’ fun. It made me sick. Knowing so close by people are living under occupation and curfew and all the other shit they are having to deal with. It tore my heart and made me want to scream and rage that the people of this street fair should be happy and not lamenting, tearing at their hair. What audacity for them to rejoice and recline smoking arguile while others are oppressed and persecuted and murdered so that they (the rejoicers) may exist and expand and think themselves the chosen ones. How my heart weeps in this world. Really though, what do I know? I’ve only been here one day.
RADIO ANNOUNCER:
Welcome to Palestine Today, a service of the International Middle East Media Center.
Israeli warplanes carried out today an air strike against southern Gaza, killing two teen boys and wounding four others. The air strike is the first of its type in three weeks as Israel still closes Gaza’s border crossings under the pretext of homemade shells fire against Israel.
Palestinian medical sources confirmed the deaths, noting that four other residents including a critically wounded, were hit in the air strike.
Meanwhile, a number of Gaza-based resistance factions are set to hold discussions over the fate of an Egyptian-brokered ceasefire deal with Israel, reached in June of this year. The deal is of six months time period and about to end in December19.
In the West Bank, the Israeli military killed a Palestinian resistance fighter in Nablus city and wounded another.
The Israeli killing in Nablus comes concurrent with stepped up armed Israeli settlers attacks on Palestinian-owned properties in both Nablus and Ramallah cities in the occupied West Bank.
Thank you for joining us from occupied Bethlehem. You have been listening to Palestine Today from the International Middle East Media Center.
VOICE still sitting at table writing:
–We tried to cross in today through Tul Karim checkpoint. Waited a couple hours and were turned away. The soldiers kept telling us different reasons why they wouldn’t let us through (our own safety, it’s a closed zone or something like that), but we were on the phone with Mahmoud, our Tul Karim contact and Mahmoud was telling us that the city was under siege. Mahmoud said the curfew had been lifted but after an hour or so the soldiers in tanks had entered the city. I could hear screams and shooting through the phone as he told me. Meanwhile, we were at the checkpoint trying to convince the 18yr old boys that we were traveling teachers in order to gain access to the city. No luck.
Went north after we were turned away, to West Baqa, or Baqa Gharbiea as I would later learn to call it, and crossed there. No problem, didn’t need a story at all. We had been, the entire trip, rehearsing our story in the service. Someone had told us to tell the soldiers we were entering Baqa to go shopping, that the shopping was great there. Didn’t even need a story though. The soldier saw we all had US and British passports and just waved us through (we were on foot). 30 seconds. Ha! It’s a good thing too. Once we got to Baqa, we realized that EVERY SINGLE storefront was boarded shut. It was a fucking ghost town. I would later learn, 150. It was a great ghost town of 150 boarded up storefronts, lined, on either side of the road. The great shopping obviously a myth of old. I would later return to that site and watch as those hundreds of shops were demolished in way for the Wall. Like so much else though, that’s another story all together.
Voice gets up from table and begins walking around, journaling aloud and to the audience.
Soldiers are also wandering amongst the crowd ‘guarding’
Anyway, we took a car to Tul Karem, landed at the Red Crescent and met Mahmoud. Passed a soldier in a tank at the entrance to the city. Wow. A fucking tank. It’s crazy. The soldier popped up out of it and stopped the service we were in, made us all get out and stand at the foot of his tank while he checked our passports. I was shaking like a leaf. He let us through though. And we were in.
Pause for breath and then Voice:
Went to a few villages around Jayyous today. The farmers took us around and showed where the soldiers had spray painted on the rocks to connote demolition orders, showed us the water wells that will be lost. They had us drink out of the well to prove how wonderful the water was. Jayyous will lose all their access to the water source. The West Bank sits on a huge water aquifer, but the farmers and people are losing their access to it.
I read today that per capita use of water in Israel is four and a half times higher than in the Occupied Territories, that 100 liters of water per person per day is recommended as the minimum quantity for basic consumption, and that due to Israel policy, Palestinian daily consumption is 40 percent less than the recommended quantity.
Voice goes back to journaling table and sits
WATER
**After the first few lines of the below is read, Waiters begin to circulate through the room taking water from ‘Palestine’ tables and depositing it on ‘Israel’ tables until almost no water remains on ‘Palestine’ and water becomes piled on ‘Israel’. Work in order to cover the length of the narration. At Israel tables, waiters can pour big streams of water from pitchers into glasses.
Related images projected on the wall.
RADIO ANNOUNCER:
For Ma’an News Agency December 19, 2008, – A village near Nablus is completely without water after Israel suddenly cut water lines into the area on Friday, according to a municipal official.
Israel did not provide a reason for cutting the water to Beita. When villagers turned the taps on nothing came out, and it soon became clear the whole area was without the service.
A formal letter of notification saying the water had been cut off was received by the municipality Friday morning.
The Israeli military spokesperson would not return calls to clarify the situation.
An Israeli military raid was carried out in the village on Wednesday and 15 were arrested. While the water cut may be related to the invasion, there is no information to confirm this.
Beita’s 10,000 residents consume about 500 cubic meters of water each day, the municipality said.
**As the narration ends, all waiters leave the area.
RADIO ANNOUNCER:
Welcome to Palestine Today, a service of the International Middle East Media Center.
A meeting between Hamas and Islamic Jihad group in Gaza yesterday discussed the fate of a ceasefire deal with Israel.
Hamas said Israel didn’t commit to the Egyptian-brokered ceasefire agreement of June, but confirmed that extension or termination of the truce should be pre-determined by a consensus of the other Gaza-based factions.
Meanwhile, on Wednesday, Israeli military detained 14 Palestinian residents from the West Bank cities of Bethlehem and Jenin.
Witnesses said that the Israeli soldiers ransacked Palestinian homes and forced all inhabitants out before detaining the residents.
On Tuesday, a Palestinian journalist was stoned by Israeli extremist settlers in Hebron. Palestinian sources reported that Amer Abdeen, a 28-year-old photojournalist for Palmedia, was attacked by rioting settlers in the city.
A Palestinian man was stabbed by an ultra-orthodox Jewish settler in the right-wing Meashearim neighborhood in Jerusalem.
A ship sailing from Qatar is scheduled to arrive in Gaza on Friday, loaded with humanitarian aid to the besieged Gaza population. The Israeli naval vessels prevented a similar boat coming from Libya to reach the Gaza Shores to unload the supplies.
Thank you for joining us from occupied Bethlehem. You have been listening to Palestine Today from the International Middle East Media Center.
**Projected images start to change theme and for a minute or two, just show some pictures. After a minute, Waiter 1 heads into the area and…
MOVEMENT
**WAITER 1 is stopped by SOLDIER 1 and SOLDIER 2 while trying to enter area to serve food to the tables. Dialogue between SOLDIER 1 and WAITER like a poem. SOLDIER gruff, unmoveable. . WAITER innocent of understanding the charges.
SOLDIER 1:
You’re not allowed to enter this area. You lack the proper permit or you have encountered us on a bad day and we don’t feel like letting you through, or there is closure for a secret military ‘security’ reason. What ever the case may be, you cannot get through. Go home.
WAITER 1:
But I must deliver the goods. The food will spoil, I will loose my wages, the farmer will loose his money, the grocer will have nothing to sell and the customers will have nothing to buy, or, I work on the other side, I must get through. How will I feed my family? Or, I am TRYING to go home and you won’t let me through. Whatever the case may be, you must let me through.
SOLDIER 1:
No. Although perhaps we will let your donkey through if HE has the right permit. haw-haw-haw
Soldiers guffawing to each other
**As the following is narrated by VOICE, DINER and FRIEND enter area and make their way to two open seats at one of the ‘Palestine’ tables. Silently (because VOICE is narrating) they act as if they are good friends, entering a beautiful place, Friend pointing out beautiful view in the distance, etc. Projected images of Gaza Sunset. A single lingering image for a minute or two.
FOOD
VOICE:
–‘He wanted to show us the high side of his world, the posh potential as a means to impress. But also I think he wanted to show us the sick joke of his life. The ridiculous nature of how things exist in that world controlled by others.
It was a seaside resort. If I knew anything about all that, I think it would have been several stars in the US, indoor water and trees, open air overlooking the ocean, breeze blowing through the lobby. It was Gaza though. Gaza City to be exact. Something like the most densely populated square of earth, built up toward the sky to account for the lack of space, literally fenced in on all sides (save the sea, but even that controlled by the other), a part of what is so often referred to as the largest open-air prison in the world.
So he took us to this hotel, to the hotel restaurant. We were seated on the balcony overlooking the sea, warm Mediterranean air. The waiter came and brought us some menus.
If spotlight exists, its on ‘em
**Waiter 2 approaches a ‘Palestine’ table and offers a menu to DINER. WAITER stands to the side while DINER peruses menu.
As WAITER 2 waits and DINER loudly peruses (IE; wow. Oh, that looks delicious. Hmmm…),
VOICE:
–We looked at ‘em. Read over those menus, full of dishes that made the palate salivate. I thought to myself, ‘How incredibly surreal. Here we are in Gaza City (Gaza City!) under Israeli occupation—we can’t even get in or out without passing an Israeli soldiers’ control and this place, this menu is like 5 stars. Wow’ I think to myself.
**cut to WAITER 2 waiting tableside for DINER’s menu choice.
DINER: pointing to something on the menu.
Yes, I would like one of these please
WAITER 2:
Oh, I’m very sorry Diner, that item is not available.
DINER:
Oh. Okay. pointing to something else on the menu.
Well then, I will have one of those
WAITER 2:
I’m very sorry again, Diner. That item is also unavailable.
DINER:
Well, what about one of these?
WAITER 2:
Unfortunately again, that item is not available
DINER:
Well, what IS available?
WAITER 2:
Hmm. Let’s see. We have cucumbers, tomatoes, bread perhaps.
DINER: a bit dismayed
That’s it? But you have such a beautiful menu.
WAITER 2:
I’m afraid yes, Diner. You see the Israelis won’t let the food trucks through the checkpoint. There is mostly nothing to buy in the market that is not grown here in the Strip, tomatoes, cucumbers, because the checkpoints are impassable. Because the permits are not exact, because of some vague security reason or simply because the soldiers at that particular checkpoint just didn’t feel like opening the way that day, we have a beautiful menu, but alas, no food to back it up.
**WAITER walks away shaking his head. DINER stays at table and becomes Detained in next scene.
RADIO ANNOUNCER:
Welcome to Palestine Today, a service of the International Middle East Media Center, for Thursday December 04 2008
According to the Palestinian Monetary Authority, the closure of Gaza banks came after Israel has denied delivery of Israeli Shekel currency and U.S dollars into Gaza banks for more than a week now.
In the meantime, today Israel allowed in some shipments of goods and commodities as well as some quantities of fuel to generate electricity amidst a crippling Israeli closure of Gaza for more than four weeks now.
Palestinian sources confirmed that 40 trucks of goods were allowed to enter into the Gaza Strip this morning through the Kerem Shalom commercial crossing in southern Gaza.
Thank you for joining us from occupied Bethlehem. You have been listening to Palestine Today from the International Middle East Media Center.
DETENTION
**SOLDIER 2 and SOLDIER 3 enter and approach DETAINED (who was DINER)
SOLDIER 2: loudly and gruff
Come with us!
DETAINED:
Why?
SOLDIER 2:
We are still looking for your wanted brother and can’t find him so it is time for you to go back to prison in his place. You know, the brother of a dirty dog is still a dirty dog.
Or, because you are a part of a non-violent resistance against the occupation so you must go to prison, or simply because you are a Palestinian man between the ages of 15 and 55 you must go to prison. You know the rules, you know how we play the game. Now come on, let’s go.
**DETAINED and SOLDIERS stand in place during narration from VOICE. Projected Images on the wall.
VOICE:
–Ghassan was a man I met during one of my first days in Palestine. A group of us internationals were taken to his house to hear his story. Not extremely unique but only someone willing to talk and having enough of an intense story to cover almost all the bases. That was back in the days of wandering from house to house listening to the stories of civilians, relatives of fighters or the imprisoned, anyone really. Spending hours upon hours, endless cups of tea and coffee, listening to these fucking stories of heartbreak and frustration, oppression, resistance, life (and with Ghassan, always stories about his heart wrenching love, but that would come later).
Voice gets up from writing table and continues to narrate this while walking amongst the tables.
So we went to Ghassan’s family home. It was in the city of Tul Karem, near the park and the graveyard. Ghassan had just recently gotten out of prison, his father was there, I think his mother had just died. A missile fired from an Apache helicopter shot at a car had killed one of his brothers. Ghassan’s other brother was hiding somewhere, wanted by the Israeli military. It had been years the Israeli’s had been looking for this brother, but could find him nowhere, so instead, every so often they came for Ghassan.
Ghassan is an artist, an actor dedicated to children’s theater, a communist, which in Palestine means something totally different then in the US. He was a lover, a fighter in his heart and mind but not by gun or hand. But, as I said, I would not find all this out until much later. For now, Ghassan just told us, a bunch of white western strangers his story.
**DETAINED stands and speaks in voice of Ghassan. SOLDIERS stand by, but invisible-like (if we had a spotlight, Ghassan would be in it.)
DETAINED/GHASSAN speaks to Voice and audience:
It was September 16, 2001. My brother he was 19, driving in a car with his friend. The Israeli’s fired 6 missiles and killed him. That was my youngest brother. My other brother has been in prison 9 months. I, myself, just got out 3 days ago. I’m 22. The Israeli soldiers came here and ruined everything. They took my old father naked into the cold street and hit his head with a helmet until he bled. They do this looking for my other brother who is hiding. They come and take me to prison several times in order to try and get information from me. I get interrogated, beaten, tied to chairs, made to stand in the cold and rain, naked for hours and beaten if I fall down, I’m not allowed to sleep for days at a time; things like this. I don’t know where my brother is. It’s been years, but still they come and take me over and over again. I am what they call an administrative detainee, one held without charge or trial. A year ago, Israel held a monthly average of 830 administrative detainees. That’s just how it is here in Palestine. This is the way it is.
VOICE still amongst the tables continues:
–And we, the white westerners all scribbled ferociously in our notebooks to go home later and journal or write articles or whatever it was we were doing. And the coffee got served and we eventually moved on to the next house, to the next stories of sons burned alive in their missile struck cars for being university activists against the occupation, the stories of frustrated existence to the point of striking back, the stories of babies killed in their sleep by stray military bullets.
PAUSE
Six months later, I was back in Tul Karem, having just come from the US. The first night I was there, the group of internationals that had been in Tul Karem for a bit, got together for their nightly meeting to decide who needed to do what. At the time, this group was keeping a nightly presence at a Palestinian man’s house that was constantly harassed by the Israeli soldiers. No one wanted to go, everyone was burnt out and tired of the endless coffee and talk of love by this particular man. It being my first night, I was nominated and went. I was dropped off on a dark street and told which house to approach. It was just one young guy and his old dad and they would understand who I was and why I was there. This was something they had requested. So I went and entered the house and saw the red velvet furniture of the family salon and realized I had been in this house before. Realized this was Ghassan’s house, the one whose story was one of so many I’d heard six months before on a quickly passing visit.
Voice and Detained/Ghassan sit together as Voice continues this narration. Detained/Ghassan has photographs of his love he is sharing with voice, etc. This following is acted out between the two although the action is silent as we are only hearing Voice tell the story.
When Soldiers come for Ghassan, audience will hear a siren, headlights will light up the night, Voice will be against a wall in the headlights, Ghassan interacting with Soldiers nearby, etc. This action will be worked out in rehearsal.
It was late when I got there, after ten already, but Ghassan and I sat up drinking coffee and talking. Mostly he talked, told me all about his lost love. It was true what the other internationals told me—this guy would sit up all night showing you pictures of his love and telling you about her and his heartbreak. So I listened, wanted to support him in his need to talk, and tried to stay awake through it all. Sometime after 2am, Ghassan must have noticed my attempts to stay alert for he told me probably the soldiers weren’t coming this night and I should go to sleep. No, no, no, I said, my eyes struggling to stay open, I’m not tired, I don’t want to sleep. As we negotiated this divide, we suddenly heard sirens coming toward the house. Ghassan immediately pulled a pair of sweat pants on over his jeans and told me to get ready, the soldiers were indeed coming this night. And they did, with the most disturbing, ear splitting siren, they arrived at the house in their military jeep. It was certain that neighbors for blocks around were all now awake in their beds, staring into the darkness wondering who was getting taken away. Ghassan roused his old father out of bed and the three of us went into the street at the command of the soldiers screaming at us over their loud speakers. The soldiers weren’t aware of my presence though and became startled when they realized I was there. Ghasssan they screamed to approach their jeep, myself and the old father were screamed at to sit against the wall in their headlights. I sat there, scared, shaking, unsure of what in the world to do. This was before I had learned how to interact with soldiers, when their loud voices and big guns still intimidated me. They must have asked Ghassan who I was for he yelled over to me, ‘where are you from?” “US” I squeaked. Later he told me that he told the soldiers, ‘yes, she is American’ and the soldiers clicked their tongues and hemmed and hawed. You see, this was also before the soldiers knew how to interact with us, with our interference and US and British passports. When those privileges were still something that threw a wrench in the socket. So, they left. Asked Ghassan where his brother was and left when he said he didn’t know. And it was silent. And Ghassan said he was amazed and couldn’t believe the soldiers left without taking him. They NEVER left without taking him. When we went back inside the phone rang off the hook, neighbors calling 3am to see what had happened. And they were all amazed too that Ghassan was the one answering the phone. Of course they all thought it must have been the magic of the ‘American’. Little did they know of my role doing nothing more then sitting along the wall in the headlights of that jeep shaking with fear.
Voice gets up from the wall, takes a moment to catch breath and continues,
Ghassan and I became good friends and confidants over the years, spending time together when my trips there would coincide with his breaks from being imprisoned. I’ve seen over time, his eyes grow sadder and sadder with the weight of his life, with the reality of his existence as a Palestinian man who really is just a children’s actor at heart yet trapped in the madness of his world. And of course, still and always with his tragic love.
**SOLDIER still standing beside DETAINED. SOLDIER 2 grabs DETAINED by the arm and drags him away saying
SOLDIER 3:
‘Come, you are under arrest. It doesn’t matter why, you are Palestinian’
**After a moment, SOLDIER 1 enters the area and:
LAND THEFT (WALL)
Waiters and Soldiers weave through the crowd with a long white sheet, pulling the sheet up as a barrier at the end of the narrative in order to simulate the Wall.
SOLDIER 1(scroll in hand):
“Order #T39003
According to my authority as I am leader of the Israeli Military in Judea and Samaria (ie, West Bank) and because I believe that it is necessary for military purposes, in view of section case in the area and the need to achieve necessary steps to prevent terrorist operations, I order the following:
The length 5,200.13 feet and width 216 feet will be confiscated and bulldozed for the purpose to erect a wall.
I announce by this paper that I capture this land for military reason.
VOICE:
–Walked some of the land to be confiscated today. Essentially the green line will be moving 6km inside Palestinian land. Something like 3200 acres will be lost between Tul Karem and Qalqilya, which constitute the most fertile agricultural land of this area that support thousands of people. Loss again of livelihood, land and home; refugees turned refugee.
In rural areas, the barrier is comprised of an electronic fence with dirt paths, barbed-wire fences, and trenches on both sides, at an average width of nearly 200 feet. In more urban areas, a wall 25ft high with watchtowers and patrol roads has been erected.
**Wall goes up, Waiters and Soldiers hold space for some moments, then fade the Wall and themselves to the background
LAND THEFT (SETTLEMENTS)
As this is read, Waiters replace some Palestinian flags with Israeli flags and show preferential treatment to those now at Israeli flag tables.
Radio Announcer:
Welcome to Palestine Today, a service of the International Middle East Media Center, for Thursday December 04 2008
In the West Bank, top Palestinian negotiator Ahmad Qurei called for an international protection to the Palestinian people against repeated Settler attacks on Palestinian residents in the West Bank, the most egregious of such attacks ongoing in the city of Hebron.
Over the past several weeks, armed Israeli settlers have stepped up attacks on Palestinian unarmed civilians and properties in various areas of the occupied West Bank and East Jerusalem.
Thank you for joining us from occupied Bethlehem. You have been listening to Palestine Today from the International Middle East Media Center.
Voice (picks up book sitting on writing table and reads to the audience):
Since 1967, Israel has established 135 settlements in the West Bank (including East Jerusalem) that have been recognized by the Interior Ministry. In addition, dozens of outposts of varying size have been established. Some of these outposts are settlements for all intents and purposes, but the Interior Ministry has not recognized them as such.
Israel has established in the Occupied Territories a separation cum discrimination regime, in which it maintains two systems of laws, and a person’s rights are based on his or her national origin. This regime is the only one of its kind in the world, and brings to mind dark regimes of the past, such as the Apartheid regime in South Africa.
Israel has stolen thousands of acres of land from the Palestinians, on which it established dozens of settlements in which hundreds of thousands of Israeli civilians now live. Israel forbids Palestinian to enter and use these lands, and use the settlements to justify numerous violations of Palestinian rights, such as the right to housing, to earn a living, and freedom of movement. The sharp changes Israel made to the map of the West Bank makes a viable Palestinian state impossible.
The settlers, on the other hand, benefit from all rights given to citizens of Israel who live inside the Green Line, and in some instances, even additional rights. The great effort Israel has expended in the settlement enterprise – financially, legally, and bureaucratically – has turned the settlements into civilian enclaves within an area under military rule, and has given the settlers a preferred status.
Voice returns to writing table and continues writing
Radio Announcer:
For Saturday December 27, 2008,
At least 220 Palestinians killed and over 700 wounded in the Gaza Strip today in an Israeli aerial bombardment marking the highest one-day toll in an Israeli military operation against Palestinians in decades.
Ehud Barak, the Israeli defense minister, said that the operation would not be short and it will continue, be expanded, and deepen if necessary.
Hamas Political Leader in Damascus Khaled Meshal threatened revenge attacks saying “the time for the third Intifada has come.”
The first wave of air strikes was launched by 60 warplanes, which hit a total of 50 targets in one fell swoop. The Israeli military deployed approximately 100 bombs in the operation.
Palestinians in Gaza fired dozens of rockets in southern Israel killing one and leaving four wounded.
Israeli officials said it was the start of what could be days or even months of an effort against Hamas.
Gaza’s 1.5 million residents are already experiencing shortages in power and basic supplies due to the 18th month old Israeli siege.
THE END
VOICE (speaking to the audience):
–I’ve come to this world as an outsider, as one actually born to the occupiers, as one to fight, one to learn and carry the truth home. It has been years now since I first set foot on this much disputed land. This land that I, my allies, and those I have come to support, call Palestine.
And that is where the conflict begins, the verbal attacks, the insults on my intelligence, the regurgitation of a brainwashing that I myself was raised under. I have seen though, am seeing, the truth that escaped my brainwashed upbringing. The part of the story that missed me because I was too busy being told about all the Arab terrorists and the importance of protecting the security of Israel, the place I was taught to strive for, my supposed homeland.
I have spent years now living across the line from the side that I should be on, according to my birth. Years of waking almost every morning inside a cage, surrounded by the walls, fences and gates of those from that other side. These days, there is no way in or out save through a gate in this fence, controlled by soldiers from the other side. Even access to the rest of the West Bank is controlled.
After all this time, only a blip compared to the experience of those born and raised here, I can feel the stress building inside of me. The bottled-up tension that comes from having your every move, breath, thought controlled by another. Controlled by an occupier. The occupier, who, although they will never admit it, treats every single being on this side of the line (now wall) as a terrorist.
(Speaking to Soldiers who are standing to the side)
The hours of standing in the sun at a checkpoint waiting for permission to travel from university to home, being treated as less then human by 18-year-old boys who will close a checkpoint because the line formed (by those who have been standing in the sun for hours, waiting) is not “orderly” enough; the stress of this daily life, building, building, building, growing inside as if a ticking bomb.
Until one day the bomb becomes real and finally explodes full of frustration and rage. It is not propaganda in the schoolbooks, not inherent hatred that teaches people this behaviour, it is the lessons you learn in the streets. The soldiers that occupy, the soldiers that control, the soldiers that push down on you so hard there is nowhere to go save to fight.
For every morning that the children lose another day of education because the soldiers won’t open the gate in the wall, for every man that is blindfolded and handcuffed at a checkpoint for looking “suspicious”, for every child who cannot sleep the night through for the never ending shooting and tanks in the streets, a fighter is born. One who wants to resist, through stone, gun or body. All of those moments of life controlled by someone else, until the need to scream and fight back becomes manifest, and suddenly you fit the bill. The one they neatly created for you to fall into, or be pushed into as the case may be.
(Speaking to the audience)
In all of the newscasts, political analysis, and lists of the dead, that fact will never be admitted. All you will ever be in their eyes, upon their lips, is a terrorist, motivated by hate, religion, and fanaticism. Never will the other side admit their own part in all of this. For me though, I can see the reality. From the ground up, I can feel it.
**A few moments of darkness and silence and then lights come up, show over.
