How to Get into Bethlehem When the Israelis Are Bombing Palestine
Friday April 5th, 2002
Eric Blair in Bethlehem
Colorado Campaign for
Middle East Peace
My phone rang today, someone inside Bethlehem said that there is a food
convoy at the checkpoint, this may be a chance to slip in and reach other
internationals at the Bethlehem Star Hotel. Also, for the first time, the
curfew is lifted, but only until 2pm. I gather my things hastily and call a
taxi, and sit waiting with Gary Anderson. Gary is a fellow Coloradan who was
among 19 or so internationals evacuated from the Hotel the day before yesterday
by the U.S. consulate. Marines had arrived in armored suburbans, moving
quickly, nervously, sweeping U.S. citizens into the vehicles, never turning
their backs to the street. Only a handful of internationals remain in the
hotel.
Gary and I talk idly. I'm unable to concentrate. I'm thinking of the
situation in Bethlehem. Both towns were invaded five days before and people have
been trapped in their homes, running out of food. Israeli snipers focus with
infamous precision on anyone daring to walk the streets - although Beth somehow
managed to get out for some fresh air and protest near Manger Square yesterday.
Finally, at 1:45pm, the taxi comes. I know I'm too late, the curfew will be back, but I get in. I know I may not be able to work up the nerve to do this again tomorrow. "Do you know where I'm going?" I ask the driver, a thirty something "Israeli Arab" (Jerusalem Palestinian). "No," he says, looking at me from behind sunglasses with a cigarette-in-mouth grin. "Bethlehem." He stops the car, and protests. He takes me to the taxi office and calls out, seeking consultation. They agree I can be taken a few hundred yards from the checkpoint, then I'm on foot.
But as we drive out of Jerusalem, he's discouraging me :"what can you do
there? You have friends there? What do you do?" We talk about peace and
protests: 50,000 in France. "France? What is France? There is only one person
who can stop this." "Bush," we say in unison. He's still concerned. "You're
not a hero, you're crazy!" Finally he resigns himself. He'd done all he could.
He speaks more positively; we begin joking around. As we pass through a long
tunnel on the settler road, a Palestinian village remaining unseen above. He's
flipping the car lights off and on, we swerve out of our lane. I remind him of
his sunglasses and we both laugh out loud. He drops me outside the checkpoint,
writes his name on a card, and wishes
me luck.
I march down the road. Soldiers are only stopping traffic toward Jerusalem,
so at first, I pass through unnoticed. Then the inevitable shout from behind.
A concerned looking soldier, in his twenties with a large, honest face
approaches me. "What are you doing? You are a journalist? You can't go in
there, they are shooting." His voice sounds sincere rather than the usual bark.
He's treating me like a human being. He offers me something to drink, taking
me in the checkpoint office. There are a variety of beverages, including wine.
I decline. I just want to go through. He calls his commander on the radio,
reading my name off my passport in Hebrew. As he speaks his voice becomes
plaintative. He puts down the radio, sadly. "You can go through."
As I walk out, I ask him, "So they won't shoot me, right?" "I don't know... it depends who is on guard." He pauses, "God go with you." I wave goodbye, feeling strange at my privileged and humane treatment, and head up the road. A variety of vehicles are passing, none of them what you would consider normal traffic. Armored suburbans full of big, American looking men in sunglasses, moving fast.
Two army jeeps
followed closely by two Israeli ambulances. I begin to hear some shooting.
Then a couple of press vehicles come down the hill, heading out. I flag one
down. "How's it look up there?" The driver looks concerned. She says "I'll
tell XXX you are coming, he's at the top of the hill, he'll drive you." She
picks up her cell phone and speeds away. At the top of the hill, a van appears,
and the hurried, serious but kind faced driver whisks me to a hospital by narrow
side streets, just 100 or so meters from the hotel. The
five minute ride costs 100 sheckles ($20), but is my salvation as I can see
I would have gotten lost. The streets are deserted and littered with debris
from the ongoing invasion. It's a vision of death, repression.
With help from a
fellow international who comes to my aid, I make it to the hotel and find Nancy,
Beth and four other hold outs. Nancy runs out to see me - I'm cringing, let's
get inside! I have a room on the fourth floor, overlooking the Church of The
Nativity and the Mosque on Manger Square, now burnt. I'm afraid that the
gunfire I hear will come through the window. Nancy and Beth just laugh. This is
nothing.
Craig of Cairo
The day after I arrived, it appears that I had entered through some rare
window of opportunity. No one is on the street now, even the journalists are
concerned. But amazingly, another international shows up. His name is Craig, a
U.S. citizen just arrived from Cairo, where he studies at American University.
Young, fresh faced, polite, and smartly dressed, you'd have no idea he is in a
war zone. I asked his story: He'd read an e-mail from ISM about the situation
and made his way up from Egypt. The journey normally takes 10 hours, but it
took him 30 due to difficulties at the border.
Finally arriving at Bethlehem checkpoint this morning, the soldiers turned
him away. Rather than leaving, he stood at the checkpoint, and prayed his
rosary. He prayed through the morning and afternoon.
Finally at four pm, a
French journalist approached him and offered him a ride through "the back way."
He came to do humanitarian work, but for now he too waits in the lobby of the
Bethlehem Star, a witness only.
* Eric Blair is one of five members of the Colorado Campaign for Middle
East Peace that have joined other internationals with the International
Solidarity Movement in witnessing and standing against the Israeli invasion and
occupation of Palestine. More on their trip at:
www.ccmep.org/palestine.html