April 1990, Page 8
Inside Gaza Refugee Camps
Palestinian Suffering and the "Nuremberg
Defense"
By Robert B. Ashmore
"They beat us whether you are here or not. So, we prefer to
tell our story and hope that you will go back to tell other Americans
about our situation." That was one family's response in Dheisheh
refugee camp near Bethlehem to my concern about possible Israeli
retaliation after we left the camp. Many Americans had joined Europeans,
Israeli Jews and some Palestinians in demonstrations for peace in
Jerusalem on Dec. 29 and 30. But the West Bank and Gaza, including
the refugee camps, had been sealed off to prevent the participation
of Palestinians from the Israeli -occupied territories.
Hiding the Horrors
Visits to refugee camps have become increasingly difficult and
hazardous. Curfews and area closures are a constant feature of the
intifada. The Palestinian Human Rights Information Center has documented
6,237 curfew days in the last two years. During the worst of these,
all utilities are cut off and Palestinians are confined to their
dwellings for several days or even weeks. Israeli checkpoints on
the road and barricaded entrances to refugee camps are designed
in part to prevent the outside world from seeing the horrors of
life under military occupation.
Sneaking into Dheisheh requires assistance. High fences, barbed
wire and barriers of sheet metal give it the appearance of a concentration
camp. Two families we visited had children killed during 1989. In
each case soldiers had fired rubber bullets, a euphemism for steel
balls thinly coated with rubber. The first family had pictures on
the wall of three "martyr" children, the most recent a
16-year-old shot in the back. When others in the camp had come to
mourn with them, the family told us, Israeli soldiers surrounded
the home and fired tear gas. The father must spend 12 hours each
day at the jail and is deprived of his identity card because he
cannot pay a $700 fine imposed because one of his little sons threw
stones.
The second family had on its walls the picture of their 13-year-old
daughter shot in the forehead and killed as she was returning from
the funeral of the other family's son. One of her surviving brothers
is in prison, and another just released showed us scars from a bullet,
many fragments of which remain in his body.
Ze'ev Schiff, Israel's foremost military correspondent, wrote last
June that the intifada has witnessed "the brutalization of
an entire generation of soldiers." Few among the troops are
bothered, Schiff says, by the hundreds of killings, "among
them dozens of children and even infants. Only a few care. This
dulling of the senses is, however, shared by all Israelis, including
the media."
I tried to engage the conscience of one young soldier as we were
led at gunpoint out of Dheisheh camp after being detected there.
This soldier earnestly argued that he didn't like being there, but
"the army is not a democracy. You have a job to do and you
do it." I heard a similar "Nuremberg defense" when
another young soldier talked to me in Hebron at the Tomb of Abraham.
He wanted to blame Israeli politicians, and reacted with obvious
discomfort to my claim that a degree of responsibility must be shared
by those who execute immoral orders.
For good reason Israeli tour guides never take tourists to Gaza.
There, some 600,000 Palestinians are packed into one of the most
densely populated strips of land on this planet. We visited two
refugee camps, Jabalya and Rafah. Pouring rains had turned Jabalya
into a nearly impassable tangle of mud-filled corridors. A visit
to one family produced the increasingly familiar story of another
youth shot and killed, this one last August. By now Israelis themselves
do not believe army reports about such incidents. Airing of a videotape
by ABC-TV on Jan. 13 of this year forced the army to reverse its
earlier claim than an 18-year-old Palestinian was shot in the head
on Dec. 28 only after shouted warnings and firing into the air.
In Rafah we attended the wake for a boy who had died from a bullet
to his head, fired as he was leaving the mosque. The family expressed
its fear, now commonplace in the territories, that the Israeli delay
in releasing the body for burial was for sinister reasons. It is
widely alleged that organs and tissues are removed surreptitiously
by the Israelis for transplant purposes.
A mother in another family that we visited in Rafah refugee camp
that same day, tearfully holding pictures of two sons killed by
Israeli soldiers, explained that the body of one of them was withheld
for three days after he died. She anguished over the huge incision
the family discovered when her son was finally released for burial.
The sheer volume of deaths and serious injuries inflicted by Israel
on the Palestinians approaches comprehension when one calculates
that in two years Palestinian losses are comparable to 112,000 Americans
dead and 10,588,000 wounded. While this suffering exceeds the imagination,
one positive feature of life there is cause for amazement. The Palestinians
are so resolute in their determination not to be intimidated by
Israeli brutality that they constantly engage in life threatening
acts of defiance.
Defiant Resistance
Palestinian flags fly from telephone wires and are hoisted even
at funerals for youths killed for similar displays of nationalism.
Pictures of Yasser Arafat are pasted on the outside walls of Ahli
Hospital in Gaza, where soldiers have dragged patients from their
beds and have beaten doctors and nurses. And repeatedly we were
caught up in spontaneous demonstrations by the inhabitants as we
entered a camp or village. Everywhere, it seems, the Palestinians
are saying to each other and to all who would listen, "We shall
struggle until we have our freedom."
These oppressed people know that the United States shares enormous
responsibility for their plight. So often in the refugee camps,
we heard, "We don't hate the American people, but we hate what
your government is doing to us." This fact should prompt US
citizens to write their congressional representatives in support
of Sen. Bob Dole's proposal that would cut aid to Israel. A government
that massively violates human rights and that stalls the peace process
merits no subsidy.
Dr. Robert B. Ashmore is professor of philosophy and director
of the Center for Ethics Studies at Marquette University in Milwaukee.
He is past chairman of the board of the Palestine Human Rights Campaign
and currently serves on the national board of Arab-American University
Graduates. |