Gaza is ablaze. Fatah
and Hamas are shooting at each other; Hamas is firing Qassam rockets at Israel
and the Israelis are launching air strikes against the Strip. Meanwhile, in the
media, another pitched battle is in progress over whether Gaza jumped or was
pushed towards imminent civil war. I will dodge the bullets on this particular
political battle to look at the lessons ordinary Palestinians can give their
dysfunctional leadership in how to manage their struggle.
In particular, I would
like to explore potentially the most powerful weapon in the Palestinian arsenal
and what can be done to better deploy it. This weapon has proven efficacy, some
would say, in bringing superpowers to their knees and in helping the underdog
to triumph: non-violent resistance.
Some will scoff. The
harshest critics of the Palestinians claim that Palestinians can only conduct a
violent struggle because they, like other Arabs, "only understand the
language of violence".
But there is nothing
inherently anti-pacifistic about the Palestinians or the Arabs. There is just a
mutual level of paranoia that feeds an ongoing cycle of violence, and the
prevalent idea in this conflict is that the only answer to violence is more
violence. This dynamic has something of the Biblical about it, with each side
believing it is retaliating for past injuries. However, given the disparity in
power, the Israelis usually rearrange the Palestinians' face for a tooth, while
the Palestinians only manage to chip an Israeli nail.
Despite this futile
dynamic, while in the West Bank, I witnessed plenty of examples of
"passive resistance" - or what Gandhi called Satyagraha. However, as
these don't involve enough fireworks, even organised peace marathons, marches
to the wall, etc, are usually overlooked by the international media.
In Hebron(el-Khalil), locals in the Old Town are
resisting, through entirely pacifistic means, the few hundred extremist settlers in their midst - who live under the
guard of 3,000 Israeli soldiers and have caused large sections of the historic
centre to be shut down.
On a tour organised by
Al-Haq, a Palestinian human rights group, we
ventured down the segments of the kasbah, the city's main market thoroughfare,
which had been transformed from a teeming Arab souq into a virtual ghost town.
However, a handful of shops have remained defiantly open, catering
to the odd customer that might brave the strong Israeli presence and come all
the way here to buy something, but mostly making themselves visible under the
windows of the settlers, playing dominoes and making merry.
This is a
demonstration of what the Palestinians refer to proudly as their most prominent
virtue, sumoud ("steadfastness") - a characteristic they've
needed in large measure over the decades as they've seen themselves abandoned,
betrayed or let down by the entire world.
"No one cares
about us here. The Israelis don't care; the Arabs don't care; the world doesn't
care," one shopkeeper complained to me. "You're the first Egyptian
journalist that has come down this way - and I'm here every day. Where's the
Arab media; where are the journalists documenting our oppression?"
Right
next to the main gate of the Bet Romano settlement, one Palestinian determined
to be a thorn in the side of the armed and militant settlers recently opened up
what he calls The Resistance Café.
The proprietor,
Hisham, who was a TV cameraman until he was shot in the leg by an Israeli
soldier, told me: "We decided to reopen this family café seven months ago
as a form of peaceful resistance against the settlers ... Others thought we
were crazy, but if all the shops reopen, we will defy the occupation. I don't
sell much, but that doesn't matter."
And the man's optimism
and good humour were infectious, chatting and joking away in Arabic with me and
the locals; in Hebrew with the soldiers; and in English with some foreign NGO
workers and the international observers. In fact, the general friendliness and
light-heartedness of the Palestinians, who treated me like a minor celebrity
just because of the tell-tale signs of my 'glamorous' Egyptian accent, came as
a bit of a surprise, given the harshness and difficulty of their circumstances.
Palestinian architect
and author Suad Amiry, in her acclaimed memoirs of life under occupation in
Ramallah, entitled Sharon and My Mother-in-Law reveals numerous - and humorous -
examples of non-violent resistance.
One memorable
incident, in September 2002, was when Amiry's entire neighbourhood got up in
the dead of night to bang on pots, pans, lampposts, pylons, bins and even water
tanks on rooftops to protest their house arrest and annoy the Israeli soldiers
who had reoccupied Ramallah. Looking around to observe the madhouse, Amiry
noted: "Even if Sharon and his occupation forces never get this message,
it was good group therapy."
Amiry also recounts a
story of how jealous she was of her pet dog who got a Jerusalem
"passport" while her mistress could only dream of the human version.
"You know what, Nura," she told her dog. "With this document,
you can go to Jerusalem, while I and my car need two different permits."
But, with some lateral
thinking, Amiry put it to good use when she pretended to be the dog's chauffer
to get through a checkpoint to Jerusalem without a permit. "As you can
see, she is from Jerusalem and it is impossible for her to drive herself,"
she told the bemused Israeli soldier, who patted the dog on the head and waved
the car through.
"All you
sometimes need is a sense of humour," Amiry reflected.
Indeed, the strongest
weapons Palestinians can and should deploy are their steadfastness, humour and
guile. That way, their just struggle will be reinvested with morality, and they
are likely win hearts and minds, as well as allies, in Israel and the world.
But who will do this?
The Palestinians have no charismatic figure to unify them behind a non-violent
struggle. Ultimately, what they need is someone with the charisma of Arafat and
the creed of Gandhi. But failing that ordinary Palestinians must force the
discourse of non-violence upon the different factions, because therein the
future sustainability of their struggle lies.
"The only losers
in violent resistance are the Palestinians themselves," argued Rita Bolos of Wahat al-Salam/Neve Shalom (Peace
Oasis), a joint Israeli-Palestinian community just outside Jerusalem. "If
I were a Palestinian leader, I would collect all the weapons and melt them into
a massive statue dedicated to peace."
This column appeared in The Guardian Unlimited’s Comment
is Free section on 17 May 2007.
ã2007
K. Diab. Unless otherwise stated, all the content on this website is the
copyright of Khaled Diab.
