Palestine
Amina went into labour at 5:00 p.m. The closest hospital was in Ramallah, which, under semi-normal circumstances, is a forty-minute drive from her home. Unfortunately, semi-normality is a rare commodity in occupied Palestine (East Jerusalem, the West Bank, and the Gaza Strip).
Amina and her family set off in a taxi but were stopped repeatedly by Israeli soldiers, with whom they had to plead in order to continue. During one stop, a soldier allowed the family to pass only after he discovered that Amina had just given birth.
When they were stopped for the fifth (and final) time, they were ordered to get out of the taxi. Amina, who was still attached to her baby, stood up and collapsed. Several soldiers began laughing, apparently amused by the sight of the child and her unconscious mother. Finally, another soldier demanded they let the family pass, and at 8:30 p.m. –- three-anda- half hours after the journey began – Amina and her baby reached the hospital. The child was named Sabreen, which comes from the Arabic word for "patience."
Sabreen, who was only a few minutes old, was subjected to the stifling realities of occupation. Her tragic experience demonstrates that Palestinian children are born into a system that constricts and dehumanises them; essentially, it punishes them for the "crime" of being Palestinian. Simple acts like attending school and playing with friends are difficult and even deadly.
For example, the Israeli siege on Palestinian towns and villages has devastated the Palestinian economy and has pushed over two-thirds of the population into a state of destitution, which, according to Defence for Children International (DCI), has forced more and more children to toil in the streets.
Others, especially children in the West Bank city of Hebron, are often imprisoned in their homes as a result of Israeliimposed curfews that last for days and weeks at a time, bringing life to a standstill. Nevertheless, even when the curfews are lifted, children who live or study near settlements are threatened and sometimes assaulted by the belligerent settlers.
Hundreds more face egregious conditions while in Israeli custody. Human rights groups, such as DCI and LAW, have reported numerous cases in which children (some as young as fourteen) have undergone beatings, sleep deprivation, and position abuse, despite the fact that Israel banned torture in September 1999. A Palestinian-American friend recently told me about his ordeal after he had been caught throwing stones as a teenager during the first Intifada. He was taunted and beaten by a group of soldiers and was subsequently forced to squat for eight hours, during which he endured more insults and beatings. This flagrant injustice continues today.
Israeli weaponry has also taken a dreadful toll on Palestinian children. Since the beginning of the Intifada, Israeli forces have killed 110 and have injured 600, like Mahmoud (12) who was shot in the chest and killed while drinking milk outside his home: or Hussein (16) who was paralysed after being hit in the neck while throwing stones at soldiers: or dozens of children – like Faris (13) – who have been killed while throwing stones at Israeli forces. Israel claims its soldiers shoot the stone throwers because they pose a threat to the soldiers’ lives. However, I have witnessed such clashes and know that the soldiers are well-protected in their barricades and armoured jeeps, and (in almost all cases) they are out of the stone throwers’ range. Indeed, stone throwing is an act of desperation that has lightly injured only a handful of soldiers.
It is important to underscore that the injustices inflicted upon Palestinian children – in violation of the Geneva Convention and the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child which went into effect in Israel in November 1991 – are not aberrations nor are they some new phenomenon. They are all symptoms of Israel’s thirty-four-year occupation.
Nevertheless, despite its power and virulence, the occupation has failed to colonise the children’s dreams and souls. They continue to learn, play, perform, paint, write, attend rallies, march in demonstrations, defy curfew, and imagine a world without occupation. Quite simply, they continue to struggle for their childhood and humanity.
The job of the international community is not to pity the children or detest Israel. Instead, it is our duty to stand in solidarity with those who resist ideologies and systems (like the occupation) that dehumanise and oppress. Our own humanity demands it.