By Mark Schneider
December 29, 2001
[Note: In our most audacious action, over 200 internationals, including Palestinians, nonviolently took over a busy illegal Israeli military checkpoint on the road between Ramallah and Bir Zeit University.]
10:35am.
An Israeli armored-personnel-carrier (apc) arrives, it's engine rumbling like a construction site. One of the soldiers pokes his head out of the top and is smiling. I recognize him from two days prior when Val and I were a presence at the nearby checkpoint; I was hoping he would remember me and it would help. I call out for everyone to lie down, to block the apc. There are thirteen of us, precious few.
The mood is tense as Liz, our grey-haired negotiator from Michigan, rises to greet and communicate who we are to the soldiers. I can't hear the exchange as the apcs engines continue to roar. Two more soldiers pop out and laugh. The apc hurtles backwards suddenly and the soldiers laugh at the surprise. They retreat on a dirt road to our east.
Liz tells me that she told the soldiers: we are internationals and nonviolent.Grinning response: We love you. We love all of you. A breakthrough?
10:55am
More military jeeps have come and gone, driving to within a few feet of my stretched out body. They're testing us. From the west rain is on its way, a windy chill at our backs as we face the Israeli military.
There are fourteen of us, thirteen that are prepared to be arrested at this action, if necessary. Five of us from Colorado, seven from Michigan, one from Virginia and another from Britain.
After ten days of actions, ranging from lying down in front of tanks to removing illegal roadblocks rock by rock, we're an experienced crew. If we are tested I feel confident we'll pull through.
Our task is simple: keep open the main road between Ramallah and Bir Zeit for all Palestinian traffic, and, to deny all Israeli military vehicles from reaching the former military checkpoint just 300 meters north of us.
I say former because the bulk of our international activist core was busy reclaiming the checkpoint, knocking down concrete barriers with bare hands, tearing down the Israeli military post and making a well-needed latrine. For a moment the Palestinian students set the small 2-person post on fire, though it's all metal and the flame doesn't last. From my groups position we can hear periodic cheering. Then an explosion.
Ricocheting off nearby hills, it's clear that the Israeli military has begun lobbing percussion grenades up near the checkpoint. While my group is to control the main road from Ramallah, another group is blocking a dirt road that intersects at the checkpoint, a road that the Israeli military has easy access to.
Another explosion and then my walkie-talkie comes to life. Coughing and gasping for air, Melanie, our communicator at the other roadblock is telling a harrowing tale: the Israeli military has launched repeated attacks of tear gas, sound bombs and she calls out for help; her line is beginning to break. Just a 100 meters away a dozen internationals are dispatched to patch up Melanie's line. Not only does it work but they force the military vehicles to retreat further away. The Brits have organized three rows of resistors. When one row is gassed, another row moves up, and so forth. Solid.
11:30am.
After the Israeli military vehicles are stationary for a few minutes, Melanie calls over the walkie talkie that they're headed my direction. Quickly I relay the news and implore our crew to stay calm, firm and ready. Seconds later two jeeps and an apc pull up to within 20 feet of us. Inside the jeep I see the soldiers have gas masks on.
A door opens, a hand appears and throws two round black balls of tear gas right at me. As both land feet from me, Trevor, our tear-gas hunter-seeker immediately kick them off the road, down an embankment and then it explodes. Our moist cold tailwind blows the gas back over to the jeeps, for a few moments they are shrouded and many in our rank cheer. I tense up more because our laughter is likely to antagonize the soldiers and I'm certain that volley was just the beginning.
Next two doors open and several canisters are thrown. One is rolled my direction, I push my body up and allow the ball to roll behind me. It detonates next to Ben. Trevor kicks it away but the cloud of gas moves the haze over our crouched bodies. Another canister is thrown and Trevor catches it and throws it over the embankment, the heat of the ball burns his gloved-hands.
Pulling my vinegar-soaked red handkerchief over my nose and mouth I gently breathe and feel my face tense up, the gas has reached my eyes. Burn. Squinting I look around and see our line falling apart and I radio for help, the main group above knowing that if we don't hold our line they are next. No longer able to see I call out for an eye wash and Liz responds with squirts of water while asking me if she's doing it right because this is her first time.
The gas clears and I realize I'm standing in the center of the road, our group dispersed. I tell people to stay calm and advance forward to retake our original position.
Then a moment I want to cry for: Like on cue as our fragile line re-forms a dozen French women and men grab our arms and we sit down, 25 strong. Our help has arrived. The French woman I lock arms with is shivering, though not from cold. But our show of solidarity is too strong. Again, the military retreats.
Though we are traumatized we take a deep breath, Ben and I pull out hummus and bread and we all share water. Soon the mood turns to jubilance. The clouds crack and rain begins and the test becomes to stay warm.
12:30pm
Another hour and our rank has thinned by a bathroom delegation and people wandering off. The rain stops, hats come off and we begin to relax. For over two hours we've kept the road open. The vast majority of Palestinians are thankful for our presence. Truck drivers ferrying cement mixers and industrial equipment greet us with peace and victory signs. Taxi drivers smile, carrying their human cargo straight from Bir Zeit to Ramallah instead of the usual 1˝ kilometer military checkpoint that prohibits almost all vehicles.
But this feeling of victory does not last. One kilometer south of our action, on the main road, the Israeli military has formed an instant checkpoint and stopped vehicular traffic. Despairingly the road becomes clogged with people walking a distance of more than 1˝ kilometers between rides. A few Palestinians are angry with us and share it. Confusion of what to do.
Ten people from the main group are dispatched one kilometer south to assess the situation. As they arrive they are immediately met with tear gas and four percussion grenades, loud enough for my group to become jarred from. Worse still the 100-strong Italian delegation has inexplicably left the action. Not counting the extra-brave Palestinians our numbers are reduced to 70 and we're spread thin in four places.
Then more bad news. Out of the east, on the dirt road that feeds directly to an Israeli base, an extra large armored personnel carrier is barreling towards us. At the intersection 100 meters in front of us it does not even hesitate. Using my hands I tell everyone to lie down because we now lack the numbers to lock arms and sit across the road; our number back down to 15.
The tall and long green military vehicle drives up to within a few feet of our bodies. Two soldiers jump out and order us to move. Our group is further confused because Liz, our pseudo-negotiator, is gone on the bathroom delegation and hasn't been seen in more than 30 minutes. Peter, from Michigan, stands up to greet the soldiers but before he can one soldier yells, over! Get up! Out of the way! Game is over! As he talks the barrel of his gun, slung over his should on his chest, is just 18 inches away and pointed directly at my head. I want to reach out and redirect it.
No one moves and the tension increases as I notice that we've got too few bodies blocking the middle of the road. As I survey our weakness the military vehicle has seized on it and begun to lurch towards it. The soldier yelling at us has quickly begun dragging people out of the path of the massive truck. Another soldier joins and starts punching and kneeing people. Nadya, our sole videographer at our blockade, steps right in front of the vehicles grill, puts her foot on the bumper and pans the camera to the window shield. The most brutal soldier instantly pushes her out of the way. As he focuses his attention on someone else she steps back to the truck. It has stopped.
Trevor, our tear-gas hunter-seeker, has become the unhappy focus. I wince and even turn my head away as one soldier is kneeing Trevor and then frighteningly begins severely jabbing Trevor with his machine gun. More people lie down behind and next to Trevor and the soldiers give up. I'm surprised for the military again retreats.
As it does a Palestinian women seeing the stress on our faces calls out to us in English, May god be with you. During the attack all pedestrian traffic stopped, Palestinians staying back a safe distance. They know if they choose to get involved they risk worse injuries than we suffered, much worse.
One Palestinian man, middle-aged, takes a risk and as he walks by us he gives a welcome thumbs up and a big smile. Hovering around still an Israeli soldier orders the man to sit by the side of the road, and is even ordered to do something else the Palestinian man refuses to do. Five minutes later the soldiers fully retreat and the man walks over to us and in very good English says, “Now you know what they do to us! This is fascism!”
Though the tear-gassing was horrible these past moments were the most terrifying and reminded Ben of his recent experience at the Gaza border where an enraged Israeli police officer began mercilessly beating internationals and threatened to shoot. Except for a nasty welt on Trevor’s arm (from the gun beating) at worst we had bruises and frazzled nerves. The line held.
1:45 to 3:15pm
The ten-person group that tried to effect the instant military checkpoint one kilometer south of us, that group retreated to our nearby meeting point, the Best Eastern Motel. Though some Palestinians were mad at us for the disturbance and the long walk we helped cause, the majority of Palestinians, including the Bir Zeit students that helped organize the action, were supportive and wanted us to stay until close to 4pm.
Just when we thought our job was just to hold our line two military jeeps and a tank showed up, parked 100 yards east of us and began another checkpoint. Most frustrating was that the soldiers began stopping Palestinians, taking their IDs and making them wait.
Clearly the problem the whole action was designed to stop, we faced a dilemma. Our total number of internationals involved was down to 70. We didn't have the power to simply overwhelm the control of this new military presence. Instead we sent down 25 people to semi-surround and talk with the soldiers which mitigated their effect on stopping Palestinians.
A confusing incident ensued. One soldier clearly did not like Trevor and began pushing on Trevor. Not using any physical force back, Trevor began falling backwards and the soldier continued to push on Trevor. Almost falling, Trevorâs left arm swung in the air to grab on to something, anything. The soldier, not quite noticing what was happening felt Trevorâs arm graze his upper body. Immediately the soldier retreated, as did all the soldiers, jumped into their vehicles and drove up the road towards Ramallah and the other instant checkpoint. The tension was thick.
3:45pm
We begin marching back towards Ramallah, all of us French, British, Americans, Swedes, Greeks and Canadians. Overall the feeling was positive though I wondered what the immediate consequences would be for the Palestinians. To find out we left behind two teams of three people to monitor the results. Quickly moving back to the de-constructed checkpoint, two military jeeps began moving concrete slabs blocking the road. As we all knew, the military checkpoint was put back into place.
The hopeful signs of the action, though, were clear. First, we did control the road for several hours. To do this required no guns or bombs, just human bodies, risk and will. Second, it provided some safety for the dozens of Palestinian activists that took a very public role in dismantling the checkpoint and maintaining a presence much of the time. This action will give a boost to the nascent organized nonviolent resistance movement.
Last, the action provided a much-needed example to the rest of the world of the power of non-violence. If we had 200 more people we could have controlled the road longer and shut down their instant checkpoints. Ever larger numbers of people involved and one can use their imagination to see the obvious potential. Resistance is not futile. The life we want, the life of freedom is worth struggling for.