Hurriyya

Account of my Capture and Imprisonment as part of the Freedom Flotilla

2010-06-19T04:52:00.000-07:00

Abuse at the Hands of the Most Moral Army in the World

Sorry if this account is a bit dry. It was created for legal purposes, but I'm not sure I'll ever get a chance to improve upon it, so I thought I should make it available for those who might be interested. Please note that at no time did the prison authorities allow daily outdoor exercise, access to telephones, or access to a lawyer. This is illegal even under Israeli law.

Initial Questionnaire for American Citizens on Gaza Flotilla Boats

Name	Paul Wilder AKA Paul Larudee
Address	405 Vista Heights Rd., El Cerrito, CA 94530, USA
Date of Birth	25 April, 1946
Nationality	USA
Passport number	xxxxxxxxxxx
Telephone contact details	xxxxxxxxxxxx
Email	Larudee@pacbell.net
Languages spoken	English, French, moderate German, Spanish & Arabic, some Greek
Occupation	Piano technician
Vessel Name	Sfendoni
Describe what happened upon initial Israeli contact	Spotted Israeli soldiers boarding from the rear of our vessel, joined them in going up the stairs to the upper deck. I locked arms with other passengers to defend the wheelhouse. (See more detailed description below.)
Injuries sustained	Twisted joints, widespread contusions, hearing loss (probably temporary), mild concussion
Medical treatment given, including location and any hospitalization	Taken to Israeli hospital, but I refused x-rays and treatment.
Forthcoming availability and willingness to give a full statement	Willing and can be available.
List confiscated equipment and any lost data, pictures, recordings, in detail: what sort of camera, how many photos, written texts - in what circumstances was it taken and by whom	Suitcase not yet recovered, nor hat and shoes. Suitcase had Blackberry and Greek mobile phone inside, along with personal belongings, medications and toiletries. These were all left behind on the Sfendoni when I jumped overboard. In addition, the medications that I had on my person were confiscated and the clothes that were torn off me were not returned to me.

Date	Time	Place	Description
31/5/10	0200	Passenger vessel Sfendoni, 80 miles off the coast of Gaza in the Eastern Mediterranean	Captain Theodoros Boukas alerts us of Israeli communications demanding that we change course away from Gaza. He orders us all to don life jackets.
	0400		Israeli soldiers begin boarding from the rear, head upstairs to upper deck. I do the same. I join other passengers in blocking the wheelhouse by locking arms and preventing entrance. Soldiers break window(s), taser us (me twice on the left arm), throw stun grenades, fire paint pellets, beat us with batons (or something). Two stun grenades go off in enclosed space less two feet from my right ear, causing pain. My left leg is struck with a baton. They pry us away from the wheelhouse and take control, restraining us with plastic ties on the hands. At least one of the soldiers is regularly filming for as long as I am on board.
	0430		I slip away and hide in the space between the wheelhouse and water tanks, where I can overhear the UHF communication from and to the other ships. Also Israeli communication, but I don’t know Hebrew.
	0500		They spot me as the sky begins to lighten, but they do nothing.
	0530		I decide to join the others and exit from my hiding area. I remove my own handcuffs, but the soldiers want to replace them even though they have been removed from everyone else. They order me to sit down; I refuse. The ship’s doctor (Khalid Qabbani) dresses my wounds. He notes that my shirt has been torn for most of its length.
	0600		It is now fully light, and the soldiers have most if not all of the passengers seated on the upper deck. They begin to take them away one at a time for purposes unknown. I refuse and remain, but others comply. I challenge the others to refuse, but they comply. I decide to jump overboard in an act of defiance, to slow the progress of the operation and to encourage others to resist. I climb over the rail and jump into the sea. Most of the passengers as well as some of the soldiers witness the act.
	0630	In the sea, 60 miles off the coast of Ashdod	The Sfendoni stops. After 10 minutes, an Israeli naval vessel (number JL238 or similar) appears. One of the sailors throws a life preserver. I ignore it. They try a grappling hook. I catch it but let go before being pulled on board. After several tries, I attach it to the rope ladder they have slung over the side. They then try a pole with a hook, but I swim away. They manoeuvre the boat with side jets, but I am able to avoid by staying close to the axis. They reverse the boat and then come towards me, but I place myself in the path and they stop. They prepare an inflatable Zodiac and lower it into the water with a crew of four. The outboard gas line appears clogged, and by that time I am much farther away. They throw a line from the larger vessel and tow it close to me. Although the motor only works for 10 seconds at a time, it is enough to reach me at that range. They pull me aboard, punch me and slam my head into the rigid floor, injuring my right eye (black eye results). They fasten my wrists and ankles with nylon ties. They take me to the larger vessel, tie ropes around my mid section and try to hoist me up. The ropes slip and they grab me by the handcuffs and arms. The ties are cutting through my wrists and it feels like my arms are separating from their sockets, but they get me on board. At no time do I actively resist, push or strike back.
	0800	Aboard the JL238	They blindfold me, then take me to the stern of the ship, where they seat me on some jagged material designed to provide traction for their combat boots. They tie me to a pole behind my back, with my hands still fastened in front of me. I am at an awkward angle, requiring me to arch my back, and unable to change my position. I am also getting very cold because of the wet clothes and being exposed to the wind. I begin to shudder uncontrollably. They bring a pair of sweatpants, tear off my own and try to put them on me, but are unable to do so much beyond my crotch. They give me water. My rear is exposed directly to the jagged gripping material and some sections of skin are exposed directly to the sun. I complain. They cover some of the exposed areas and bring the shirt matching the sweatpants to put under my rear. They tell me that they will take me below, but only if I agree to tell them my name and promise not to cause problems, like jumping overboard. However they do not let me answer until later, at which time I agree to not cause additional problems, but not to provide any information. Finally, after 3-4 hours, they take me below, where they feed me a sandwich and allow me to wear the sweatshirt matching the pants. As we reach Ashdod, I ask to use the toilet. They refuse several times, until I threaten to go without a toilet. They relent. Soon after, we arrive at the port. They remove my leg shackles.
	1400	Processing center, port of Ashdod	Around a half dozen officers, presumably from the prison service, are there to meet me upon arrival at the port. I collapse at the dock, refusing to speak, move or otherwise participate in my capture. The officers try to force me to walk by stressing my shoulder, elbow and wrist joints, to no effect except to cause me to scream in pain. They carry me roughly to the processing stations, but soon call for a stretcher, to which they strap me. Much of this appears to be filmed with several cameras, which I assume to be news media. I see a number of other passengers, many of them from the Sfendoni. I am transferred to a gurney, placed into an ambulance and taken to a hospital.
	1500	Hospital	At the hospital, they transfer me from the gurney to a hospital bed, banging my backbone against the bed rail. They look at my wounds and ask where I hurt. I do not respond. They assume that my name is Paul Wilder from the name in my passport, which is in their possession. I am taken for x-ray, but refuse to cooperate. I ask for aspirin, but they refuse and say they will send me back to the processing center. I point out that the sweatpants that were given to me on the boat now have a large tear in the crotch area and that I need a new pair. They refuse and say that a new pair will be given to me at the processing center. I see Sfendoni captain Theodoros Boukas at the hospital with an ear injury, but they don’t allow him to talk to me. I ask to use the restroom, but they say I will have to wait. I ask several more times, then announce that I will use the bed as a toilet. They make a real toilet available. At some point, metal handcuffs with hinge joints are placed on me. They are used to stress my wrists while transporting me to the processing center.
	1630	Ashdod processing center	When we arrive at the processing center, several officers carry me while stressing my hands and legs, suspending me from the metal handcuffs, and then place me in a wheelchair. The officers take me to several stations, where I am photographed and fingerprinted, passively, but without my cooperation. Most of the other Sfendoni passengers appear to be gone. I ask for a new pair of pants, but nothing happens. Passengers continue to be processed, but I recognize few of them. They are probably mostly Turks from the Mavi Marmara. I see Dr. Evangelos Pissias, head of the Greek delegation. He tells me that there were shootings and dead aboard the Mavi Marmara, but no details or confirmation. After at least an hour, I stand and demand a new pair of pants, demonstrating the problem of the wide open crotch area. Two passengers intervene and argue on my behalf. The officers get angry and speak in Hebrew. Approximately ten officers grab me and take me to the other end of the room, where they drop me to the floor, beat me, slam my head against the concrete floor and kick me in the head and midsection. I scream. Pissias comes to my defense and is beaten. I learn later that he suffers a broken leg and at least one broken rib. After they finish, I shout appreciation for the most moral army in the world and continue to demand a pair of pants in a loud voice. They place me in a prison van. I wait and then Captain Theodoros Boukas joins me. The van leaves.
	1830	Givon prison, hospital ward, Ramle	At the hospital ward of the prison, Boukas and I are issued hospital clothes and are processed. We are given a physical examination. My blood sugar is tested and I receive diabetes medication. A “social worker” calling himself Amit asks why I came to Israel. I respond that I was kidnapped and a victim of human trafficking across international borders, and that I would like to cooperate in the prosecution of the party that kidnapped me, i.e. the Israeli navy. Our room is in a special high security section that has only two cells. The television has been removed. We ask to see our lawyer and diplomatic missions. They say that this will be taken care of the next day. We ask to use the telephone. They refuse. I ask why everyone else has a television except us. They say that they have instructions that we are a special case. I ask for paper and pencil. They say that this is reasonable, but they do not bring it. We eat and shower, then sleep.
6/1/10	1100	Givon prison, Ramle	We are taken from the room, with our belongings. We receive some medication and a medical discharge. Our hands and ankles are shackled. We are placed in a security vehicle and driven a short distance to the main prison. Our belongings are inventoried and we are given a receipt, except for my torn clothes, which they say they will destroy. I refuse. They say they will ask me before destroying my clothes. I ask for a receipt. They refuse. They issue me some clothes, but Boukas is allowed to wear his own clothes.
	1300		We are placed in what appears to be a holding cell, near the processing area. It has no window and no fresh air. I ask to see a representative from my embassy. They say that my embassy will be notified. I ask to use the telephone. They refuse.
	1800		I ask for a cell with a window. They refuse. I say that I will refuse food, water and medicine until we have improved accommodation.
	1900		We are moved to a cell with window. The entire wing of the prison is empty of prisoners except for Boukas and me. The televisions have been removed. I ask for paper and pencil. They refuse. I ask to see the representative of my embassy. They say that my embassy has been notified. We both ask to use the telephone. They refuse. At no time are we permitted to go outside for exercise and fresh air. We are not in contact with any other prisoners, although we can see some through the glass of a door separating their section of the prison from ours.
6/2/10	1000	Givon prison, Ramle	I ask when I will see my embassy representative. They say they don’t know. I ask for my lawyer. They refuse. I ask to use the telephone. They refuse. I ask for pencil and paper. They refuse.
	1300		I announce that I will go on a hunger and medication strike until I see my embassy representative. They say that he will be there in the afternoon.
	1400		The prison director says that the U.S. consul general has come to see me. He asks my to put on a shirt over my undershirt. I refuse. He says that it is prison regulations and that he will not allow me to see the consul general without the shirt. I tell him that I know he wants to cover the marks of the beatings, but I want everyone to see them. He gets angry, but allows me to see the consul general.
	1430		I meet with the Consul General, Andrew Parker. He says that he brought reading material but that the prison authorities are refusing to allow me to have them. He is unable to provide me with pen and paper. I inform him of the beatings and other treatment, and authorize him to share all the information with anyone who wants it. He says he will call my wife as soon as he leaves the prison. I ask him to tell her to call my member of Congress, George Miller. He tells me that I am the last of nine Americans that he has visited, and that he had a hard time finding me. The others were at the prison in Bir el-Saba (“Beersheva”). I ask him to contact a lawyer for me. He says he cannot do that, but provides me with a list of lawyers and information about Israeli legal procedures. The prison authorities allow me to have the information. It is paper, but no pencil. I ask him to tell my wife to contact a lawyer for me.
	1600		I ask to see a lawyer. They say we will be leaving before a lawyer can do anything. I say I want a lawyer, anyway. They say that it will be taken care of tomorrow. I ask to use the telephone. They refuse.
6/3/10	1100	Givon prison, Ramle	Boukas and I are moved to another cell, which has one prisoner in it, a one-armed Yemeni businessman named Abdulhakim. He was on the Mavi Marmara and confirms the earlier reports of shooting and deaths. He was brought to the prison with others, including Turks, from the Mavi Marmara, who are in adjacent cells.
	1300		The guards tell the three of us to gather our belongings because we are going to be moved to another prison. However, almost as soon as we do so, a representative from the Greek embassy arrives to talk to Boukas. When he returns, he has a pen and paper for me. He says that all the other Greeks are at the prison in Bir el-Saba.
	1400		The prison director announces that we will be taken to the airport to leave the country. He says that it is required for me to wear a shirt over my undershirt in order to exit the cell. I refuse. He says that I will stay in prison if I don’t wear the shirt. I say I want to talk to my lawyer. He asks me the name of my lawyer. I say Gaby Lasky, and that if she is not available, I will talk to Lea Tsemel, and if not her then Michael Sfard, and if not Sfard then Yael Berda. He finally relents and lets me leave in my undershirt.
	1430		They handcuff us. Our possessions are returned to us except for my medications and torn clothes. I insist on having them returned. They say they have no knowledge of my torn clothes. I remind them of what happened. They say that they have no idea where they are. I refuse to leave. They try to force me. I do nonviolent resistance. They pressure my arm joints and lift me by the handcuffs. I scream. They shout. They say that the clothes are in the van and that I will see them when I go there. I say I will not leave unless I see them first. They bring the clothes. I go to the van, but they do not give me the clothes. They force me into the van. The woman guard in the front seat keeps the orange bag with my torn clothes and promises to give them to me at the airport. Boukas and I are in one section of the prison vehicle on the way to the airport; Abdulhakim, a Turkish professor named Ibrahim and one or two other Turks are in the other section of the van. There are several other vehicles transporting other passengers who were imprisoned.
	1530	Lid (“Ben-Gurion”) Airport	We wait for about two hours in the van at the airport before entering. The guard does not give me my torn clothes. I am taken to a room that has around ten Flotilla passengers for processing. I know some of them. They provide more information about what happened on the Mavi Marmara. One of them has the telephone number of my lawyer, Gaby Lasky, and gives it to me. The officers tell me that I will be put on an airplane to Istanbul. They ask me to sign a paper. I refuse to sign the paper and to go anywhere without first talking to my lawyer. They say that I will not be allowed to leave without signing it. I still refuse, and say that I don’t want to leave without talking to my lawyer, anyway. They say that I will be taken back to prison and that I will not be permitted to see a lawyer for several days.
	1700		The Greek nationals tell me that their government will send an airplane to take them to Greece, and they persuade me to go with them. They say that they have talked to a lawyer and that I will not have to sign anything. We are taken to an exit where several groups of Greeks are taken by bus. Only a few of us remain to be picked up.
	1800		An officer asks me to come with him back through the passport control area. I comply, thinking that this is part of the processing to put me on the Greek aircraft. They take me to an area that has 30-35 passengers seated in several rows, being processed. I recognize some of them, including Nabil Hallak, Abbas Nasser and Ken O’Keefe. They tell me that I need to sign a form and then I will be sent to Istanbul. I tell them that I am not going to Istanbul and that arrangements have been made for me to go on the Greek transport to Athens. They say that this will not be permitted and that I have no choice. I tell them that I have the choice not to sign the form and that even if they force me on the Turkish transport, I will remove my clothes and they will refuse to take me. They tell me that in that case they will take me to prison again. I tell them that I also will not go willingly to prison, and I collapse on the floor. Four or five of them lift me by the metal handcuffs, cutting into the wounds that already exist and causing sharp pain. Others stress the joints in my arms and legs. I scream while being carried away. They start beating me. The other passengers begin shouting and fighting with the officers. I am dropped on the floor, where I hear the commotion behind me, but am in too much pain to do anything. 5-6 officers carry a struggling man to the wall opposite me, drop him on the floor, then beat him and kick him. It seems to me that he must have broken bones. After the noise dies down, they come back for me. They carry me as before, by the metal handcuffs and legs, stressing my joints. One officer hits me several times on the left side of my face. I challenge him to do it again. He does. I tell him it’s not enough, and that perhaps he should try shooting me in the head, and that he’s not very good at torturing a 64-year-old man. They bounce my head off the marble floor, then carry me down the stairs to the place where the busses pick us up. The Greek friends who had been awaiting transport when I was taken away are still there.
	1900		The Greek friend, Dimitris Plionis, who has been acting as liaison, comes for me and apologizes that he didn’t stay with me. We wait for the documents of the other Greeks to be completed. In the meantime, other passengers, mostly apparently Turk, come individually to board another transport. Many of them were apparently part of the fighting on my behalf, and are bearing the wounds. We exchange solidarity words and gestures. The passenger who had been beaten in front of me is carried down by two others. He is obviously in great pain, probably broken ribs and limbs. Ken O’Keefe comes down, his face covered in blood and a split in his forehead. I thank him for his defence of me and ask about his family. He says he plans to reject deportation and fight the case in the courts. I give him the name and number of my lawyer, Gaby Lasky. We all finally leave on a bus, including Ken.
	1930		The bus takes us to the Lid Immigration Detention Center, where the rest of the Greeks are awaiting transport. It is a place I recognize from a two week stay in 2006. I am surprised to discover Gaby Lasky there. We talk and I sign some papers for her to help with charges being filed against Israeli government agencies and persons. I introduce her to Ken. The Greek Ambassador meets with the Greek citizens.
	2100		We are taken to the transport aircraft. After a long wait, apparently due in part to a discrepancy over my name, the plane leaves for Athens.

Message to a Compassionate Listener

2006-12-17T12:04:00.000-08:00

Message to a Compassionate Listener

On Wednesday, Dec. 6, 2006, I was one of a panel of speakers reviewing the Israeli film “Shadya,” shown at the Oakland Museum in Oakland, California. The film is about a young Palestinian-Israeli woman whose promising success in karate presents her with issues about her identity as a Palestinian, an Israeli and a woman in both societies. It was presented by ITVS, which partnered with community organizations to foster discussions. I represented one of the partners, the Northern California chapter of the International Solidarity Movement.

After the discussion had ended, audience member Eryn Kalish came to me and introduced herself by name and as a trainer and organizer of the Compassionate Listening Project in the San Francisco Bay Area. We then began a conversation that covered some of the remarks I had made, and issues concerning justice and reconciliation for Palestinians and Israelis. Unfortunately, we were interrupted to be told that we both had to move our cars urgently out of the garage, so we didn’t exchange contact information in order to continue our conversation.

Although I am neither Jewish nor Palestinian, I participate in the Jewish-Palestinian Dialog Group of the East Bay, and many other participants were present at the film presentation. I therefore recruited their help in locating Eryn, whose name I could not remember at the time.

The result is a remarkable dialog that took place on the list server of the group, which I reproduce here. I and many others think it is remarkable because of the issues raised and the way they are addressed. Eryn and I probably represent significant numbers of people who feel as differently as we do but rarely talk to each other as we do. For this reason, I think our dialog may be of interest to such persons and as a stimulus to discussions about the issues addressed. I hope you find it to be as interesting to read as it was to participate. Since the dialog is continuing, I will post addenda periodically.

[Note: For the sake of the context of the first message, I mention that part of my remarks included a quotation of I.F. Stone regarding Israel and double standards. For simplicity and continuity, I include only the exchange between Eryn and me. Interesting side discussions occurred, but I omit them, even if there are occasional references to such messages in the text. I have also corrected some of the typos while leaving a few in place, just for the flavor of the discussion. Although the discussions were on a public list, I have chosen to remove the names of other participants where they occur in the text, just for the sake of focus.

Given the opportunity, Eryn and I might like to edit our statements for clarity and afterthoughts. However, I think it is better to let them stand in the context in which they occurred, with the understanding that they might not represent our full thinking on the issues discussed. My thanks again to Eryn and to all the others who lent their encouragement and advice as the dialog unfolded.]

Paul Larudee

Date: Thu, 7 Dec 2006 19:36:18 -0800 (PST)
From: "PAUL LARUDEE"
To: East Bay Dialog Group
Subject: Message to a Compassionate Listener

Does anyone know the woman who came up to speak to me after the film yesterday? She is apparently active in the Compassionate Listening Project. I would like to get the following message to her. (It is intended for public consumption.)

Paul

To a Compassionate Listener:

Thank you for coming to talk with me after the film “Shadya”. I was impressed by the sincerity of your views. You also appeared to be willing to devote the time and effort necessary to try to achieve some measure of understanding. Unfortunately, the parking garage permitted less time, so I ran off to get my car without taking your contact information so that we could pursue this at another time. You also told me your name, but I apologize that I find myself unable to extract it from my less-than-optimal memory. I also appreciate your candid but respectful advice about how to address my listeners. It was very helpful.

I will confess that despite your disciplined practice of compassionate listening, I came away with the feeling that you doubt my sincerity and consider my arguments manipulative. I hope I am wrong, but if that is so, I wish to assure you that I d not have the same doubts about you, and that I try to be as sincere as I can in my viewpoint. I believe that your apparent perception may arise from the difficulty in exposing cherished assumptions and beliefs to doubt and criticism.

It requires a great deal of courage to allow oneself to question deeply engrained values and ideas. This is why cult members often prefer denial, why deception on the part of one’s partner is so traumatic, and why confidence scams are so hurtful. Nevertheless, if we are committed to truth and honesty before all else, we must be willing to accept the possibility that we are wrong, and we must entertain the validity of every challenge to our beliefs. This is openness, and it requires us to be willing to allow ourselves to look at things in a totally different way.

The principle applies equally to both of us, but it is my sense that this kind of openness was lacking in our conversation. Perhaps it was partly due to the inadequacies of time and circumstance, which may have allowed neither of us the freedom to indulge in this kind of exploration. However, when I see someone who has enough interest to pursue such a dialog, I regret not doing so.

For this reason, should this message reach you, I would like to invite you to continue our discussion, and especially to participate in the East Bay Jewish-Palestinian Dialog Group, which is a good forum for such exchanges.

Sincerely,

Paul Larudee

P.S. Here is the full I.F. Stone quote:

"For Israel is creating a kind of schizophrenia in world Jewry. In the outside world the welfare of Jewry depends on the maintenance of secular, non-racial pluralistic societies. In Israel, Jewry finds itself defending a society in which mixed marriages cannot be legalized, in which non-Jews have a lesser status than Jews, and in which the ideal is racial and exclusionist. Jews must fight elsewhere for their very security and existence against principles and practices they find themselves defending in Israel."

I think even Stone would consider his statement to be a broad brush. There are Jews outside Israel who have little respect for human rights, Jews in Israel who fight against injustice and of course non-Jews who do both, as well. My point, however, is that I agree with Stone that many who defend Israel hold contradictory values or apply them selectively. Most importantly, the quote was meant to support the premise that we cannot achieve justice for some at the price of injustice for others. Israel needs to stop giving privilege and preference to Jews and welcome back Palestinians who want to live there. Palestinian justice also cannot be purchased at the cost of Jewish exile.

From: Eryn
Date: Fri, 8 Dec 2006 11:05:23 EST
Subject: Message to a Compassionate Listener

Paul thanks so much for writing. I appreciate your sincerity, too, and sorry if that did not come across. I also felt bad that we did not get to close our conversation when we both ran off to our cars.

What you might have read as my not trusting your sincerity is my sadness and frustration at most of what was said at the event last night.

I've spent so many years listening, studying, going to the Holy Land to see for myself and what I'm most interested in now is people who can honestly hold the complexity of this conflict with heart and soul, with deep compassion and without blaming either side, but helping all of us to walk through the fire.

When I heard you blame Israel exclusively for the situation, comparing the circumstances to South Africa and the Native Americans, I have to admit, I really turn off...things are so dire there now for the Palestinians and potentially for the Israelis as well...I feel pretty frustrated at going to a beautiful and complex film like Shadya followed by a panel that only represents a fragment of the voices...everyone sits around and agrees that Israel is the big bad demon and walks away self-satisfied. Meanwhile, the conflict rages, the blood is spilled, as I believe it will be until a higher integration and synthesis occur where the pain and suffering of everyone involved is honoured and cherished and healed.

I have done so much listening to what I hear you representing, is I guess what I'm saying and I'm really yearning for allies--from anywhere-- who can help to hold the deeper truth and I did appreciate your willingness to listen...AND I heard you clearly state that you don't see the conflict as complex and nuanced but actually very simple and clear: it's all Israel's fault. I don't know where to go with that except to tell you that I went back early this morning to some pieces in Benny Morris' book, my dog-eared copy, well worn, around some of the history you and I were talking about and my eye caught the blurbs on the back cover that say this book will explode everyone's cherished myths, and anyone who reads this will no longer be able to ever again blame one side or the other.

So I apologize if did not convey respect for your opinions...I guess I'm really tired, after so many years, of ANY party lines, right, left or center, that distorts things in ways that keep us all stuck cycling in the pain of this horrible tragedy. I'm physically sickened by it all, hopeful that if we keep sharing our perceptions openly, we will till the soil for something new to arise...I don't know how to do that when I'm hearing stuff I've heard and so don't agree with anymore...so I want to be respectful, and at the same time, I need to put out that hearing more of the same really is old for me and I want to see break-throughs, places where we can go together that will help things unfold in new ways. Sadly, I did not feel that last night, as much as I appreciated your willingness to hear me...maybe I'm just too old and too impatient to be doing this work any more...

Warmest Blessings and thanks so much for reaching out and for listening now.

Eryn

Date: Fri, 8 Dec 2006 11:45:59 -0800 (PST)
From: "PAUL LARUDEE”
Subject: Message to a Compassionate Listener

Eryn,

Thanks for responding. As I said, I would be willing to continue the conversation if you are interested, but will not insist otherwise. Your interest seemed passionate, so I had the impression that there was a desire to talk.

My own view is that if we hope to make progress, we have to set aside sadness frustration, be willing to hear many of the same things repeatedly and try to see something new in them that we did not see last time. We cannot afford to turn off under any circumstances, regardless of whether it seems old.

No panel of five can do more than scratch the surface in an hour's time. No panel of five can represent the entire spectrum of views. No presentation of any kind can display the full complexity of issues. That is too much to expect. Instead, we can at best address narrow areas at a time, and not be afraid to do so. We need to confront them head on and pursue them to conclusion. That way we may make a small advance on at least part of the problem. I don't think we can find a deeper truth or achieve any kind of synthesis without doing the hard work of facing all the individual issues, of which the justification for a Jewish state is only one.

I'm sorry you think I find the problem as simple as blaming Israel for everything. I think that is a hasty judgement. The complexity can be seen only by talking about many issues, which we did not.

On the other hand, my impression is that you are either in denial about Israel's role or are getting your information mainly from those who are. A key to having a fruitful discussion is to be willing to face the hard questions and be open to unpleasant answers. To what extent does your reading include Ilan Pappe, Uri Davis, Salman Abusitta and Jonathan Cook? How much time have you spent in Palestinian communities in the West Bank or Gaza? To what extent are you committed to Israel and unwilling to question that commitment?

To take only the issue of a Jewish state, I hope that I am open to the idea that such a state is a good idea for reasons that I have not yet considered, or for an analysis that I have yet to see. I hope that I care equally about Jewish Israelis and non-Jewish Palestinians. If we accept Uri Davis' definition, they are all Palestinians. However, if your priority is the welfare of Jewish Israelis (even if you also care about the welfare of Palestinians) and you are unwilling to critically examine your premises, then I fear that our discussions will be fruitless and that we will never arrive at a deeper truth or the kind of synthesis you claim to want.

Obviously, I must be willing to do the same, and to the extent that others are also willing, we may achieve some progress. However, too much is at stake to allow fatigue, age and impatience to be an obstacle.

I will not be offended if you decide not to pursue this, but would be delighted to see you at the dialog group. I also hope you don't mind me sharing this with the group, as this is precisely the sort of conversation it was created to address, and speaks to issues of interest to us all.

Paul

From: Eryn
Date: Fri, 8 Dec 2006 22:09:49 EST
Subject: Message to a Compassionate Listener

Paul thanks for responding..I'm about to go offline for Shabbat so this will be quick...

your questions and challenge for me surface two deeply held values.

Since I spend my life facilitating very deep dialogue and so of course I believe very much that we can't really afford to stop the conversation, must stay at the table and build bridges where we can as one premise...

the second one is that at 52, there are certain things that I don't reconsider on a daily basis and you probably don't either: I don't entertain whether robbing a bank when I'm low on money is an option, don't entertain whether it's okay to slug someone when I'm angry...I'm sure you get my drift: there are certain core essentials that I have come to accept and I'm okay operating from them as I believe I have come to them with a lot of care, thought, meditation, inner guidance...they are my deep truth...do I know everything I need to know about why I shouldn't steal from my friends? Probably there is always more to learn, but that is not where I want to put my life's energy.

Israel's right to exist is one of those fundamentals that I've come to...I made a decision about a year ago that I will be in dialogue with anyone about how to resolve the middle east as long as they accept as a premise that until nation states are all dissolved (I hope that happens in the future and we don't need them any more!) that focusing on dismantling only the Jewish state is not on the table for me to negotiate about, even in dialogue. I do find myself drained by the conversation, see it going nowhere nor does it interest me.

Since we each have to make very conscious decisions about where to put our precious life energy, what we're called to do, etc. I have decided that I will be in conversations with people who can hold all of the peoples in the conflict with love and compassion and want to talk about how to move forward together in ways that are healing for all...that is my understanding of what Len and Libby's model of dialogue is about and also that we fully accept where each person is at the time we encounter them.

So while I appreciate that you see things from a different angle, unless we can agree on the existence question, I don't think there is much more for us to talk about, though I do appreciate your offer and I do believe you are sincere in your willingness.

Warm Blessings,

Eryn

Date: Sat, 9 Dec 2006 00:54:40 -0800 (PST)
From: "PAUL LARUDEE"
Subject: Message to a Compassionate Listener

Eryn,

I'm 60, have been with this issue 41 years, and find myself questioning more things the older I get. I think I could give you reasons to question Israel's right to exist, if you give yourself a chance to consider them and evaluate them fairly. Furthermore, they are reasons you have never heard before. In fact, I think you can never make significant progress towards your objectives without honest consideration of such questions, even if in the end you still decide that for you, the issue is non-negotiable. At least you will know what price you are paying and you will be less frustrated about why others are unwilling to meet you there. Benny Morris is honest in this regard; he recognizes that Israel could not have been created without ethnic cleansing, and for him it is worth it. I think your analogy to questioning whether to rob a bank is not a serious one.

Even more important than the right to exist, however, is the question of whether justice for some can be purchased with injustice for others. Are you willing to discuss this question?

Paul

From: Eryn
Date: Sun, 10 Dec 2006 14:32:25 EST
Subject: Message to a Compassionate Listener

Paul, while I deeply appreciate how sincerely you are engaged in this issue, I continue to feel that you are discounting all of the questioning I HAVE done up to this point, or to respect my conclusions... and that you continue to filter everything I say through your agenda...this is not a useful place for dialogue from my perspective.

Thanks for trying.

Eryn

Date: Sun, 10 Dec 2006 13:24:37 -0800 (PST)
From: "PAUL LARUDEE"
Subject: Message to a Compassionate Listener

Eryn,

If you feel that this is a waste of your time, I don't want to push you to continue. However, if you think that it can be useful if pursued in a different place, I would be happy to do so, in which case I would be open to your suggestions.

My impression of our exchanges is essentially the mirror image of yours, i.e. that you are discounting my questioning, applying your filters and declaring some things to be off limits. That said, I am not yet convinced that our discussion cannot be productive and would like to propose how.

1. Let us choose a manner and place of communicating which you think might be more productive.
2. Let us allow the issues that you care about to drive the discussion.
3. Let us keep to one issue at a time, in order to limit the scope of what might otherwise become quite wide-ranging.

As you might imagine, the postings to the dialog group have generated some discussion. With your permission, I would like to forward two postings, one from SP and the other from AH, which are supporting different views.

I also would like to again invite you to the dialog group this evening.

Sorry for my persistence, but it is rare to have respectful, honest discussions with persons who hold passionately different views, and especially one who is committed to the principles of compassionate listening. I have not trained in the program, but care about both compassion and listening, even if I practice both imperfectly. However, I will also understand and respect your decision if you prefer to discontinue the discussion altogether. Also, please feel free not to copy the dialog group if you would rather not include them. Obviously, the members of the dialog group should also choose whether they want to accept continued postings of this kind.

Thanks for your patience.

Paul

From: Eryn
Date: Mon, 11 Dec 2006 01:17:29 EST
Subject: Message to a Compassionate Listener

Paul thanks for your patience, too.

I have been receiving all of the postings that have come from our conversation and sadly I see so much polarization...I'm not sure where this kind of thing leads because my sense is that until we're all able to lay down our political swords and really hear what's most important to each other nothing will deeply change and we will continue to rewound each other with our words and our challenges...no matter how we might want to legitimize the right to challenge each other's beliefs, what compassionate listening is about is getting underneath the beliefs and positions to what is really important ...we work to till the soil for something new to arise (see attached if you're interested in my thinking on this).

In my experience, and painting with very broad brush strokes, Jews deeply want security and Palestinians respect and honour...and BOTH want their suffering legitimized by the other and the world...how we each manifest the demand for those deep/essential needs varies of course. So when people just blame Israel and the Jews for a mess that was so clearly co-created by so many players, including but not limited to the Jews of the Yeshuv and the diaspora, the Palestinians, the larger Arab world and the Western world, not to mention 2000 years of Christian persecution of the Jews and to a lesser extent Muslim persecution, we are reducing real needs to sound bite phrases that might make us feel righteous but will never get at the core issues....

So the reason I've stopped having conversations with folks who seem to have what I call a reductionist view of the conflict is that I think it's a red herring...it doesn't touch the real needs and thus has no possibility of meeting them...without meeting them, the conflict will continue...and to empower that cycle seems like a waste of time, energy and creativity when we could be working together to come up with solutions for how we're going to deal with the mess. Solutions that demonize one side over the other seem sure to fail ultimately.

The thing that intrigues me about this conflict, in addition to having a very heart felt and personal passion or seeing it solved, having lost 33 of my mom's family in Auschwitz, loving the Holy Land deeply and the Palestinian peoples, is that it is different than most any other conflict on the planet, from my perspective.

There you have TWO wounded peoples, TWO suffering peoples who have come to manifest their suffering in beautiful and strong ways in order to survive, and horrible and twisted ways that hurt the other and therefore ultimately themselves...and despite the stereotype perpetuated, this was not come colonizing entity that had no connection to the land (ala South Africa) but an indigenous people who had been ousted by the Romans, yearning through their prayers and stories for the return, no less so than the tragedy of the Palestinians sitting with keys around their necks in refugee camps yearning to go back home...

I see the great spiritual calling of this conflict as the call for humanity to develop itself to the point that it can truly hold all of the co-creators of this conflict fully...the story lines that distort what I see as pointing toward our development as a species seem doomed to perpetuate things and will never, in my estimation, lead to resolution, and thus my disinterest in continuing them.

So I guess my first question to you if you are still open to conversation with me is to focus on the human side of who you are, what drives you, a white, non Palestinian, non Jewish man to spend 41 years of his life working so hard on this issue? Why did you choose this conflict and not try, instead, to dismantle Australia, built on the back of the Aborigines...Why do you care and what is the vision you hope to see if you could wave a wand and have what you desire unfold tomorrow?

Warmly,

Eryn

Date: Sun, 10 Dec 2006 23:46:46 -0800 (PST)
From: "PAUL LARUDEE"
Subject: Message to a Compassionate Listener

Eryn,

Wow, your last question is great. I'm glad that you've been receiving the other posts, where I see some polarization, but also real understanding, as in S's and A's messages (though not exclusively theirs).

I have to say that I think there's much more to the solution than acknowledgement of suffering, and that if there is something more fundamental than beliefs and positions, it is important to describe it. Perhaps I will understand when I read the attachment, but I think that legitimation of suffering is pretty low on the Palestinians' list of priorities.

I absolutely agree that assigning blame is not a solution, and often moves us away from a solution. However, understanding is important, as is a realistic assessment of facts and events. It is also important to talk about solutions, the form that they might take and the principles that would govern them - principles like justice, equal rights and other first principles.

You speak of red herrings vs. real needs. What are these real needs? What is “what's really important" and who is permitted to decide such priorities?

I don't think it's entirely accurate to say that it was the Jews' attachment to a particular plot of land that brought them there. For some it was the case, but for many it was not their first choice, or even their fifth. It was their only choice, but it wasn't their attachment to the land, which came later, and perhaps in a succeeding generation or not at all.

So now to your question. First, I do not consider myself white, or only partially so. I was born in Iran to an Iranian father and an 11th generation American mother of English stock (although I tended to ignore such matters while growing up, and even she didn't know her own history at the time).

What ignited my interest is when my father became director of the USIS bi-national center in Amman, Jordan. This started my education, and particularly the life-long association with a Palestinian who became like a brother to me from that time. I ended up working in Arab countries for a total of 14 years and as you say, the conflict is different from any other. Coming from largely American values from small towns in the East and Midwest, the injustice of the Palestinian plight struck an instant chord with me, and I felt that it was equally unjust for me to ignore it when such a large part of the problem was my own country's involvement and when such a distorted view of it was being propagated in my country. As a participant in the social struggles of the 60s, I took to heart Martin Luther King's statement (which I quoted at the film) that "injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere." I also felt that although I care deeply about what is happening in Haiti, Darfur, to indigenous peoples everywhere and other injustices, I was closest to this issue, knew more about it that many others, and might be in a position to do more than with other issues.

As for my hopes for Israelis, Palestinians and their neighbors, I would want the societies to welcome all persons who consider Palestine (the geographic region) to be their home, to live wherever they want to in that homeland, without segregation or privilege and in mutual respect.

In fact, that applies to much more than just Palestine. In my opinion, Jews will never find peace in a fortress Israel that insists upon exclusion of people who consider it their home. Instead, Jews need to be welcome in Cairo, Baghdad, Damascus and many other places, and they need to welcome the indigenous Palestinian population back to what is now Israel. I believe that this is the formula for peace and reconciliation regardless of how many states give expression to self-determination in Palestine, which is for the peoples themselves to decide. This is what I meant at the film when I said that I have no problem with the idea of a Jewish homeland, but am totally opposed to a Jewish state.

I hope this is a start to answering your question, but I would be happy to elaborate on any part of it that you wish me to.

Paul

Document from Eryn:

Draft Statement: The Compassionate Listening Project:
Our Work With the Israeli-Palestinian Conflict

As the Israeli-Palestinian conflict becomes ever more tragic, we want to share with others how we have brought Israelis and Palestinians together and held the space for healing and peace- building in the face of so much fear and violence over the past 16 years.

Our work on the ground began in 1990 with a mission to create safe and respectful venues, and to provide the tools to strengthen the “third path.” We believe that the “third path” (as conflict resolution experts call the alternative to the fight or flight syndrome) is the foundation for transformation and healing of this conflict. In other words, we are working to till the soil where something new can grow.

We believe that in order for a lasting resolution to take root, an integrated solution is necessary. Political, legal, economic, psychological and spiritual approaches are all necessary for healing in the face of so much pain and anguish.

Compassionate Listening is a foundational practice that helps individuals to listen deeply to each other. It is not an answer to the conflict; it is a skill-set and deep practice that helps people create solutions based on listening and speaking from their hearts, rather than on recycling grievances. We support deepening mutual understanding so that personal and collective stories can be held in a broader context that includes the stories of “the other.” We help people see how their stories are rooted in their humanity and how they are connected to the humanity of “the other.”

Sometimes advocates of one side or the other ask if we are biased. Sometimes they ask if we should be doing more advocacy work. While we have enormous respect for those doing human rights and advocacy work, and we understand how concerns for those suffering can prompt these questions, we have chosen another path. We have chosen to advocate “strongly” for a shift in consciousness that recognizes that all of life is valuable, that each human being is a spark of the divine, and that people in pain and fear can do horrible things. We agree with Gene Knudson Hoffman who says that every act of violence is the expression of an unhealed wound, and that an enemy is someone whose story we have not yet heard.

We know that not taking a stand for one side against the other can appear as inadvertently supporting the very violence we hope to address. We want to state, with as much clarity as possible, that we stand for saying “enough is enough” to all acts of violence. We stand for cooperation, a sustainable and just peace with full security for both peoples. We stand for healing the wounds that both peoples have suffered and that have been historically documented. We stand for a world where the loving essence of every human being is encouraged and allowed to thrive within a healthy eco, political and social system.

Compassionate Listening has been called “meditation in action.” We stand for the use of this and other deep practices that will allow Love, Compassion, and Cooperation to thrive on this planet sorely in need of these qualities.

More than anything, we stand for providing the skills and the hope so that the deep voice that lives in each of our hearts - the deep voice that says “there must be something better than this” - can be lived in practical reality.

If our approach appeals to your heart and to your vision of what will support resolution of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, or if you would like to participate in a training delegation to the Middle East or a U.S. training (to strengthen your peace-building skills for daily life in your family, community and workplace), please visit our website: http://www.compassionatelistening.org, or contact our national office at 360/297-2280.

For Bay Area workshops and speakers, please contact Rachel Eryn Kalish, certified Compassionate Listening facilitator, at 415.289.7079

Copyright 2004, 2006 Rachel Eryn Kalish, M.C. for The Compassionate Listening Project

Date: Sun, 10 Dec 2006 23:54:17 -0800 (PST)
From: "PAUL LARUDEE"
Subject: Compassionate Listening and the mideast piece

Eryn,

I am in complete accord with all the principles in this statement, and find no contradiction with it and the idea that we must address all the fundamental issues in order to achieve resolution.

Paul

From: Eryn
Date: Mon, 11 Dec 2006 11:51:54 EST
Subject: Compassionate Listening and the mideast piece

In a message Thanks Paul...I was just about to respond to your first post when I noticed this one...so yes, I agree that political, legal etc. solutions need to be in place for a true and lasting piece...it's just that without the heart connection, in my estimation, nothing good and sustainable stands...one only has to look at the systems created by most revolutions born in violence to realize that solutions that come from a true collaboration of hearts addressing a problem together is very different than what most systems, as S so eloquently stated, are born from.

Re your vision of an open middle east (I take it you also suggest reparations for the hundreds of thousands of Jews kicked out of the other countries during the founding of Israel?)...sounds like your vision is of the bi-national state that Buber and Magnes and others spoke about pre-Israel? Tirzzah Agassi, Buber's great granddaughter and a friend of mine who lives here, said that he evolved his vision post 48 to a federation, similar to the EU today, that would include two states with open borders. Wondering how you would accept that?

I have to ask the obvious of course, being that you oppose Israel as a Jewish state, how you would have seen protection for the Jews in Palestine when they were oppressed (though not as severely as they were under Islamic dhimmini laws) without them having a state...I don't hear much acknowledgment of the fundamental need for a political entity where Jews were not at the whim of some dictator or other...how would you have envisioned this all evolving in the 20's, 30's, post holocaust?

And thanks for your bio...it does help contextualize your interest a lot...though none of us can be reduced to our biographies (nor should we be) I think it's crucial for anyone working in this conflict to be to claim what has influenced us...as I like to say, we all have "schmutz" on our windows but we think we're seeing clearly...yet our own biases, fears, predispositions toward empathy toward some aspects of the complicated history and not toward others make for a very complex picture..I think when we fully own the complexity, really deeply, than a true solution will be found...and I do believe that validating the suffering that is at the core of both Jewish and Palestinian demands is a part of that...as one of my spiritual teachers used to say, "we can live without getting what we want but we can't live without asking for it." So what we need, what will ultimately serve the larger whole, may be very different...that is as true for Palestinians as it is for Jews...so I that raises a question for me: you seem quite willing to dispense with what seems sacred to many Jews: the Jewish State of Israel and you ask us to entertain the possibility of a transformation to something else...yet I hear you holding very firmly to your beliefs of what the Palestinians need and what it must look like...are you fully open to dispensing with ALL preconceptions of what a solution would look like or only asking that of the Jews who hold to Israel?

And Paul, I hope you have enough empathy for the Jewish story to know that at a time when Haniyeh is in Tehran with Ahmmadinejad calling once again for the destruction of the State of Israel that you can see why most of us do not easily entertain that idea with the open heartedness you would like. Can you speak to this?

Thanks Paul.

Date: Mon, 11 Dec 2006 11:10:25 -0800 (PST)
From: "PAUL LARUDEE"
Subject: Compassionate Listening and the mideast piece

Eryn,

Let me preface my remarks by saying that I think we're really starting to get somewhere in the exchange, and I'm very hopeful about where it's going. Please accept my appreciation.

I totally endorse your statements about revolutions and violence. Those who gain power by force are wedded to it and usually maintain themselves by it. That is why I think that nonviolent movements such as the Solidarity movement in Poland bring about much better results than violent overthrows. It is also why I belong to ISM, which acknowledges the right to armed resistance under international law, but does not encourage it, and is itself committed to nonviolence.

With regard to specifics like a bi-national state, as proposed by Buber and Magnes, and more recently Ali Abunimeh, whose father I have known since 1967, I have only one strong feeling, and that is the one articulated by I.F. Stone, namely that we need to be consistent in our values. If nondiscrimination and integration are what we believe in elsewhere, we need to apply them as much in Palestine as we do in Alabama or South Africa. Beyond that, I am reluctant to prescribe the specifics of how the affected populations should realize this principle.

And yes, I agree that all displaced persons have the same rights to return to their homes (if they choose) and be compensated for their loss, as guaranteed by the Fourth Geneva Convention. Similarly, I don't condone discrimination or unequal treatment of any kind at any time, whether in Palestine, Baghdad, Europe or the Augusta Country Club.

In terms of dispensing with preconditions, I agree, but with the caveat that it doesn't mean dispensing with principles, as I've outlined above. Until this summer, when I gave talks in Amman and Beirut on the subject of international solidarity in the Palestinian nonviolent resistance movement, I had never met more than the occasional Palestinian who advocated the expulsion of European Jews from Palestine. However, my talks were attended by a significant number of armed resistance supporters who were committed to just that. We definitely parted ways on this issue, but it is my sense that such persons are thankfully still very much in the minority in the Palestinian community, regardless of the way it is characterized in the western media, as reported by persons who often have an axe to grind. Nevertheless, I was glad for the dialog with them, which I thought was productive in Beirut, with increased interest in nonviolent resistance, while my experience in Amman was less hopeful but still not totally discouraging.

Finally, with regard to the statements of Haniyeh and Ahmadinejad, I think it is unproductive for Palestinian, Arab, Iranian or other leaders to advocate "the destruction of Israel" or for the phrase to be used by Israeli leaders or news reporters in representing (and often misrepresenting) Palestinian positions. What does the phrase mean? Sometimes it means no more than the open society with tolerance for everyone that I advocate. However, it can also mean the expulsion of Jews from Palestine that I oppose.

I certainly do understand the Jewish Israeli reaction to such inflammatory statements. However, I think that the existence and advocacy of a Jewish state (i.e. one that gives privilege and/or preference to Jews) is the primary fuel for this unfortunate language and the extremism that drives it. The conversion of such a state into a secular one would, in my opinion, take the wind out of the sails of the extremists and drive moderates in both communities to achieve a more just society.

To put it in perspective, in order to remain a Jewish state, Israel has to find ways to assure an overwhelmingly Jewish population. If anything should threaten the demography, ways must be found to correct the problem. If, for example, Israel annexes territory, the land must be largely cleared of non-Jews, as with Plan Dalet in 1947-49 and the Golan Heights in 1967. In the case of Jerusalem, the land was annexed but not the people, who were not offered citizenship and who can lose their residency for a variety of reasons. Similarly, the West Bank was not annexed for the reason that Israel would not want to absorb such a large non-Jewish population. In addition, non-Jewish marriage partners from Arab countries and the Palestinian territories are not permitted to immigrate to Israel. Jews from outside Israel can become posthumous citizens by being buried there, thus boosting the immigration statistics. Many Israelis living abroad are still counted as living in Israel, with "temporary" overseas residence. Proposals have been entertained in the last few years to create more expatriate Jewish Israelis by granting citizenship to Jews who come for only a short period of time and buy heavily subsidized property, often in the West Bank settlements.

I apologize if that sounds like an indictment and assignment of blame. That is not my intention, and there are plenty of examples of obstacles and injustices for which Palestinians, Americans and others are responsible. My point is rather to illustrate the consequences of a commitment to a particular ethnicity for a particular state: It is a formula for gross injustice that will undermine any attempt at reconciliation between communities, just as did segregation in the U.S. and apartheid in South Africa (not to mention the many examples from Jewish history in Europe).

It is of course a very tall order to ask Israel to give up being a Jewish state, and I don't pretend that it will be easy. Furthermore, there may be more digestible steps along the way. In the long run, however, it is fundamental to justice and reconciliation. I am also convinced that progress toward this end is served by the kind of dialog in which we are engaged, and by not permitting the forces that maintain this injustice to go unchallenged.

Paul

From: Eryn
Date: Mon, 11 Dec 2006 17:03:21 EST
Subject: Compassionate Listening and the mideast piece

Paul thanks...I think you name a lot of the difficulties really well that Israel faces in maintaining itself as a Jewish state...

what I am looking for, which does not seem to be here, though, is how would you envision meeting the core problem that Israel was designed to address without a demographic majority?

As I'm sure you know from history, Jews did well under some regimes for a time, and then at the whim of some king, dictator, or just during a down turn of events, often economic, Jews would once more become the scapegoats and be expelled, persecuted, or far, far worse as we all know..

James Carroll does a beautiful job dissecting why this was so as part of Christianity in Constantine's Sword, yet I continue to see the myth perpetuated that under Islamic rule it was some idyllic paradise, which sadly was not the case...would you please speak to how your vision of a bi-national state where everyone does fine and the Jews are not vulnerable to what would quickly become an Arab majority would meet that need?

For me this is THE sticking point and I would love to hear how you would address the very real, deep need for Jewish safety along with Palestinian justice. That seems to be the core set of issues and why Buber's vision did not gain more traction than the 25% (if I recall correctly) that it had in the Yeshuv in pre-state Palestine...

as I see it mistakes were made for many years before 48 by both sides that led to those core needs not getting met by the other, co-creating the conflict and the bloodshed and tragedy so many of us want to help resolve.

Thanks Paul!

Eryn

Date: Mon, 11 Dec 2006 16:46:54 -0800 (PST)
From: "PAUL LARUDEE"
Subject: Compassionate Listening and the mideast piece

I see a lot of postings, but I'm going to take them one at a time and not prejudice myself by reading ahead.

Eryn, I really like your question very much. I'm less confident that you will like my answer, but I'm beginning to feel that we are building a trust that will help us to be honest without risking the ability to dialog.

I regard the search for security as largely elusive.

One of Israel's concerns has been that its dependency on the U.S. is, in effect, putting its eggs in one basket. What happens if the political climate changes and Israel can no longer count on U.S. support? That is why it has sought in the past to wean itself. Even if it succeeded, however, who is to say that the U.S. won't be taken over by anti-Semites and become a new threat to Israel? Of course there's the "Samson option," which is one of the reasons it was created. However, it is far from certain that it would save Israel. Reliance on military might leads to the conclusion that the most powerful nation on earth is the most secure, and that this must be the goal.

I don't need to paint where that leads, or to describe the insecurity of the most powerful nation on earth today. In fact, I would consider Israel to be the most insecure place on earth for Jews, with no foreseeable change in the future.

The conclusion for me is that dominance of any kind - military, economic or demographic - does not bring security. I believe that our best hope for security is precisely what I.F. Stone describes Jews doing in other societies, i.e. fighting for pluralism and human rights (although that is something of a stereotype, in my opinion). It is also what you are doing with the compassionate listening project. In short, it is the justice of the societies that we build that is our best protection, and the respect that we show each other.

As for the safety of Jews in a secular Palestine, I have heard many Palestinians tell me over the years that they are wary of a Palestinian Arab state - that they are afraid that it will turn into yet another oppressive oligarchy, especially if it is forced to be a junior partner to a more powerful Israel. They tell me that they prefer to be in a state where half the population is Jewish (as long as it is based on total equality of rights), because they know that this population would never permit such a thing to happen, and that the large moderate majorities in each community will have much more of a common interest with each other than they will with the extremists in their own community. The effect of separation is to drive moderates into the arms of the extremists in both communities.

I can't say that this is the opinion of most Palestinians, but I think it is a significant segment of the society, and most of those who oppose it do so as a utopian dream, not because it's a bad idea. That at least is my experience.

I also hope that you will accept a mild criticism with respect to language. I have never seen any characterization of Jewish life under Islam as "some idyllic paradise" and I don't think it is fair to say that anyone is making such a claim. The most I have heard anyone say is that anti-Semitism is a European phenomenon, and I think there are grounds to say that.

Paul

From: Eryn
Date: Mon, 11 Dec 2006 22:09:36 EST
Subject: Compassionate Listening and the mideast piece

Paul you're right on both counts--there is enough trust for you to say what you said and I don't find your answer very satisfying. You probably won't find mine very satisfying either but let's keep going.

First of all, I don't think the majority of most Jews who feel a need for Israel to exist as a Jewish state would find your response satisfying either. And my concerns are not just for Jews, but for Palestinians as well.

So while I agree with you that there are Palestinians who very much see things as you do, (certainly the majority of the Palestinians that I know through my work in CL), hold a very benevolent and moderate position, what you are proposing still leaves both people vulnerable to the goodwill of the other, and I think that is what is so untenable at this stage of this bloody process.

In all honesty, I can't fathom how can anyone in the world can ask the Jewish people en masse to give up being a majority in their own state on the hope/belief that another group of people who en masse have shown very little empathy for their plight, going back to the earliest days of the Yeshuv in the 1880s? I'm painting with very broad brush stokes here and I know that there are many exceptions to the stereotypes of both Jews and Palestinians who don't care about "the other" but in general, I think it's fair to say that there has been what one teacher of Nonviolent Communication would call "empathy collision" in that, generally speaking, both peoples were more ethnocentric than universal in their values when dealing with each other...for good reasons, of course...but nonetheless, the end result was that trust and care and concern and great political solutions were not built.

I've been doing conflict resolution for 25 years, and it's just not my sense that you put people (couples, co-workers, community members or anyone else who has had intense conflict) together to run something without deep work to prepare them to do so...reminds me of the couples therapists in the 50s who suggested people have a baby to bring them closer together when they are heading toward divorce! Or of my high school in the 70s during racial integration forced the African Americans and the whites into the same school with no preparation...the school sadly blew up into riots and we were dubiously on the cover of Life magazine, one of the first schools in the country to have an armed guard at every door..it was an important life lesson for me: do the up front work and you don't have to do the clean up later. Since we're way past the stage when it's anything but too late to do "up front" work, throwing people together into one state with no healing seems, no offense to you, insane at best.

Over time, over many years of healing, not killing each other, experiencing each other as human beings, trading with each other....sure it could be possible to evolve to something else ...but now? Seems like a recipe for more death and destruction and not just of the Jews...too close, too hot...what I do think is needed is the gritty and hard work to build trust for "the other" in both societies, to have lots of citizen exchanges, compassionate listening sessions where they listen to each other's experiences, a truth and reconciliation committee, work on shared projects (as some are on water and other environmental issues etc)...as trust is built, who knows what is possible...but I do think it's a long hard process and as I see it, we need both structural solutions and relationship/trust building. I don't believe either one will be sufficient to bring about all that is needed. Oslo started to get at pieces of this but as we probably agree, was very incomplete both structurally/politically and in terms of trust and education...I fault both sides in different ways for its failure.

This is why I think a two state solution that can hopefully evolve into a federation over time...I think what you are asking would have been like asking the Europeans to create the EU during the 100 years war...the timing is not right, the trust is not there, the need is felt but I don't think we can leap over the gritty work of trust building which is why I do hope a Palestinian state will be created that will not be dominated by Islamic extremists...just as I hope Israel's majority that supports peaceful actions will prevail, which only gets harder the more Hizbollah, Hamas and Iran scream for its destruction from podiums and from their heinous charters.

What role do you think the Palestinians and the Israelis have in creating such a healthy, thriving two state solution and what do you believe the US and Israel need to do to support them?

Eryn

From: Eryn
Date: Tue, 12 Dec 2006 00:50:05 EST
Subject: Thank you East Bay Dialogue community

At the risk of one more overwhelming email from me today, I really want to thank you all, and Paul of course especially for inviting me in. I'm sure that this conversation is not easy reading both due to the volume and the content of what is being said here.

I appreciate the chance to stay in such a respectful dialogue with someone who holds a very different view and while I initially did not want to do this, I offer it up in service of healing us all of the historical wounds we carry with a prayer that we find our way through the thicket of pain and anger we carry to something more whole, more holy, more worthy of those who came before us and could not find peace in their time.

Thanks to any of you who are listening/caring/crying over the conflict that hurts us all.

Warm Blessings for Salaam, Shalom, Peace,

Rachel Eryn

Date: Tue, 12 Dec 2006 01:23:22 -0800 (PST)
From: "PAUL LARUDEE"
Subject: Compassionate Listening and the mideast piece

Eryn,

I agree that those who feel the need for dominance or exclusiveness or privilege in a state "of their own" and who fear the consequences of giving it up might find my suggestion unsatisfactory. However, I offer it not because I think it is more just (although I do) or because it is consistent with the beliefs that most of us hold dear (although it is), but because I believe that in the end the only security we have is the good will of our fellow creatures, and that the sooner and more fully we put it into practice, the nearer we approach our goal, which otherwise recedes ever farther the more we try to create it by force. Paradoxically, it is vulnerability that is the best guarantee of security, a principle upon which practitioners of nonviolent resistance rely.

I see little or no chance of ending an injustice by preparing the way for the injustice to end while perpetuating the injustice itself. There is no doubt that racial desegregation went through violent times in the south and still is far from realizing the hopes of its proponents. However, the arguments that the society was not ready for it, that it was too sudden and that it needed more time and preparation are not ones that I am inclined to take seriously (as they were not taken seriously at the time), for reasons that are hopefully obvious.

I agree that the hard work of reconciliation will need to be done, but in the absence of the condition that creates the injustice. Otherwise, we are rubbing the wound even as we cover it with salve. I understand the reservations, which some might call "risks," but if we do risk assessment, I think we find that the greater risk is to allow the injustice to fester.

If a two state solution were to be realized, I think the "Jewish" state would eventually evolve into a state without a Jewish majority, unless additional unpleasant and unjust measures were used. This is precisely why the Israeli and Zionist leadership (as distinct from their constituency) have continually undermined it; they consider it as much a threat to the existence of Israel as the "one state" solution - and I think they are right. You may be right that the road to the ideals that I espouse lies through a two state solution. If so, however, it is unlikely to endear such a solution to Jews and Israelis who fear a unified secular state.

As for the role of Palestinians, Israelis, and the U.S. in bringing about such a solution, I have a few ideas even if I hesitate to forward them for fear of being considered a meddler. I am more comfortable about discussing principles, defending rights and displaying solidarity than I am with prescribing measures. I therefore prefer to consider them as food for thought.

1. Palestinians. The Palestinian Authority is worse than useless. It gives the false impression that Palestinians have control over their fate and are therefore responsible for it. Better to abolish it and go back to direct Israeli military rule. At least the causes of the problem are then no longer disguised. I also think that the potential of nonviolent action is still grossly underestimated. A civil disobedience movement that refuses to abide by the rules and restrictions of the Israeli military can render it impotent. If properly planned and executed in coordination with international supporters, it can go a long way toward regaining Palestinian rights with a minimum of risk. A hundred thousand peaceful marchers to Jerusalem cannot be stopped, nor can they be prevented from simply proceeding to their ancestral homes. A boycott of Israeli products and the preferential use of Palestinian products is another nonviolent means of resistance.

2. Israelis. The most important thing that Israelis can do is to practice solidarity with Palestinians, spend more time with them, and advocate on their behalf. It might include refusing to live or serve in occupied territory.

3. Both Palestinians and Israelis would obviously do well to stop targeting civilians and creating more misery for each other. However, I do not consider this a practical suggestion that is within the hands of ordinary citizens.

4. The U.S. needs to practice tough love with Israel, which means reducing or withholding support until Israel abides by its obligations under international law and conforms to the stated policy of the U.S. The U.S. community should also try to stimulate a more honest dialog in the media and stop trying to silence criticism of Israel (without suppressing their own voice). Ostracism of Jewish critics of Israel like Jewish Voice for Peace does not permit the Jewish community to be properly represented. U.S. citizens can also do their part by "thinking globally and acting locally" - i.e. practicing through boycott, dialog and activism their solidarity with Israeli and Palestinian nonviolent efforts.

I'm sure much of this is not what you might have been hoping for, but the list is long and I'm trying to keep it mostly to things that we can practice without relying on governments or other relatively unaccountable sources of power. Obviously I support the work of reconciliation efforts such as the Compassionate Listening Project and others as well. However, I consider such work to be most valuable in the absence of the conditions that create the wounds that these efforts are intended to heal.

Paul

From: Eryn
Date: Tue, 12 Dec 2006 14:21:33 EST
Subject: Compassionate Listening and the mideast piece

I'm taking S's post as the guideline that folks can get this in one email a day and that it's okay to keep going...

I have to admit Paul that I'm having a very hard time with what I read as some unquestioned assumptions on your part, which was what led me to be wary of entering this dialogue in the first place.

I really hear an implication in what you say that the injustices are all Israel's fault and that the Jews have no right to self-determination, and no need for self-protection from what has been a lot of hostility throughout our history. While there are many reasons for that hostility, to lay it all at the feet of the Jews of the Yishuv and now Israel really seems to distort, again, a very complicated picture. I don't know how anyone can read the deep history of this conflict, as you have done, from the 1880s forward and come up with that conclusion.

And while I agree with you that our best protection is on an inner level, a willingness to be vulnerable and to trust life, I admit that I still lock my doors to my house and car, even while doing the deep inner work to be open and vulnerable, to listen deeply to folks from all sides..the Muslims have a saying that I love: Pray to Allah and tie your camel. Does it change me when I lock my door? Yes, I believe that EVERY action taken in fear contracts our hearts, changes our energy field even in a very slight way. I hear you saying that to ask that level of work from the Palestinians given all that they are suffering is not realistic and I agree....why ask it of the Jews who are dealing with their own intense sense of injustice and trauma? Why not set the conditions where both peoples can heal by creating the structures that will serve justice AND healing? To use Ken Wilber's model, working on only one quadrant will not an integral solution get...and anything less than fully integral will never really work

Sometimes I use the analogy for this conflict as two abused children suffering mightily..one is the adorable 3 year old who everyone wants to protect...the other is the angry 12 year old who is harder, more angry and determined not to be hurt. again..of course these are broad brush strokes and both cultures have plenty of both ages represented in them...yet in nothing that you say Paul do I hear your empathy or an acknowledgment for Jewish needs and that troubles me...

I'm wondering what you thought of Jeff Halper's proposal, which I think is brilliant though of course the extremists in both societies could easily derail it...greed, wanting the whole of the land, is something that is not limited to one side or the other, as there are representatives of both societies that seem to not being willing to let go...I'm happy to say that the large majority of Israeli society is very willing to let go of having the whole thing and it seems that this is also so in Palestinian society...so why do you maintain your position rather than hearing the cries of the people you are trying to serve?...it seems like Halper's idea is the most creative and visionary one I've heard in a long while.

If we only end up where we started days ago I hope this has been useful for others...I really think what Joel said that bi-nationalism in the current environment is a non starter and making the equation of Jewish self-determination with US racism of a slave culture brought over here totally against their will seems like another distortion of the truth of the 120 years..

Eryn

Date: Tue, 12 Dec 2006 18:38:55 -0800 (PST)
From: "PAUL LARUDEE"
Subject: Compassionate Listening and the mideast piece

Eryn,

It seems that you are reading me wrong. Part of the reason may be my failure of expression, but I think it is also in part that you are not giving my statements a chance or interpreting them at face value. I fear that you may be interpreting them according to your expectations, and not giving a chance to other ways of interpretation.

You say that you hear an implication that the injustices are all Israel's fault. That is not my intention, but I'm guessing that you might read it into my suggestions for Israelis and Palestinians and perhaps other statements of mine. Since I oppose the pursuit of blame, there must be another reason for the focus of my suggestions.

There is a difference between assigning blame and acknowledging a power imbalance, recognizing that one community is the occupier and the other the occupied. It is pointless to make demands of Palestinians that they are unable to keep, whereas Israel is capable of changing things in a very profound way. The same is true of Iraq and the U.S.

It is a matter of degree, of course, but for the most part, Palestinians can implement only what Israel permits them to, whereas Israel has the power to make profound changes both on the ground and in the relationship. Palestinian power is mainly limited to defiance of Israeli power and refusal to accept conditions that Palestinians find intolerable. That is why I think Israel has to be the main focus of attempts at change, without implication of blame.

I also have never said that Jews have no right of self-determination. However, I do not think that Jews or Catholics or Muslims or whites or Hutus possess such a right separately from each other.

With regard to self-protection, I have already discussed what I regard as the best form of protection, which is mutual, not self-protection. I will admit that I find it a bit disconcerting that although the dead, wounded, imprisoned and impoverished as a result of this conflict are overwhelmingly Palestinian, your main concern appears to be for protection of Israeli Jews. In fact, the idea that Palestinians should be permitted the means of self-protection is not even on the table of most discussions. And whose lives are the least secure? This is not to belittle the fears of Israeli Jews, merely to put them in perspective - a perspective that is often absent.

With regard to healing and justice, I believe I said only that it is pointless to try to heal the wound with one hand while continuing to strike it with the other, not that it is unrealistic to expect Palestinians (or Jewish Israelis, either) to engage in the healing process. I was referring to results, not attitudes. And I believe that I said that mechanisms for healing are exceedingly important, not that they should be discarded in favor of simple removal of unjust conditions. I am concerned that you are selecting only part of what I'm saying. I favor integral solutions and thought I had so indicated, but perhaps not explicitly enough.

I like to think that my empathy for Jewish Israelis is as great as for Palestinians. In fact, it brings me great pain to see them perpetuating a system of injustice that I think they have the power to change and to thus rid themselves of many of the ills that they face. However, my acknowledgement of their needs takes a very different form from yours, because my interpretation of their needs is so different. I believe that they need liberation, just as white South Africans did, and I think that the best thing we can do for them is to remove them from the grip of the injustice that is killing and hurting them all.

You may object to the comparison with South Africa and other comparisons that I have made. It is fair to compare; it is unfair to equate, and I have never intended to equate, nor do I think I have done so. Comparison is for the purpose of illustration, not to say that the two situations are identical. Even those who consider the Palestinian plight to be worse that that of blacks under apartheid have to admit their difference.

I support Jeff Halper in just about everything he does, and I know he is there for me, too. If his proposal or a two-state proposal of the kind set forth in the 2002 Saudi proposal or a number of possible proposals win consensus, I certainly wouldn't stand in the way. I confess, however, that the principle of persons residing in one state having citizenship in another reminds me too much of the apartheid Bantustan solution; it is too easily a means for denying the rights of the "non-citizens."

Finally, I want to once again return to the issue of the use of language and of reinterpretation of what I say. Your closing words are, "the equation of Jewish self-determination with US racism of a slave culture brought over here totally against their will seems like another distortion of the truth of the 120 years.." I agree, but I think it is not constructive (and a distortion) to imply that I made such an equation. I'm no expert on compassionate listening techniques, but it doesn't seem consistent with its principles, either. I promise to try not to misrepresent what you say, and I hope you will extend me the same courtesy. Apart from exceptions of this kind, however, I would like to commend you for your constructive approach, and hope that I have been reasonably successful in reciprocating likewise.

Paul

From: Eryn
Date: Thu, 14 Dec 2006 12:12:08 EST
Subject: Continuing the conversation

Dear Paul and All~

First I want to thank the 15 people who have written in support of the dialogue that Paul and I started, and to thank everyone who is jumping in. The response is very touching and even though the list has overwhelmed some, it seems to be striking a deep chord for many.

This will be a bit long, and I apologize for that, but I can't continue without raising this issue again as it's really a core piece for me. So at the risk being told again by B that my pain and fear is a demonstration that Jews are meek, whining and condescending, I need to raise the issue of Jewish pain as it has a key role in much of what we're discussing. I wish it were nothing more than a Byzantine issue that could be relegated to history. And I'm aware that certain actions Israel has taken have contributed to (but I do NOT believe are the sole cause) of the reactivity and lack of empathy we face continually.

For the last two nights I have woken up around 3 in the morning with a kind of sadness and fear that I have not felt in a long time.

The Fed-Ex guy knocked on my door yesterday morning with a package for my neighbors who were not home...what went through my mind was that is could be a bomb because of what I'm saying on this list!

Personal paranoia? You could write it off to that...or, as I would hope, to feel with me into the very real fear of annihilation that on some level undergirds most Jews (even though we deal with it in very different ways).

A dear friend of mine who used to be part of this group (but will no longer attend meetings because of the lack of support for both peoples) has been reading all of our posts and wrote me with the following comment after B's first post (below) [Note: not included in this transcription]:

" I think they actually DON'T know how scary it is for Jews to be attacked. I think that the Leftist beliefs about power - combined with anti-Semitic beliefs about Jews being powerful - prevent them from having any such knowledge or understanding or compassion. Instead, when any Jew - or the Jewish nation, for that matter - speaks of past trauma or of feeling fear, they are seen as being false and manipulative, or at least in denial around their power, rather than as having genuine post traumatic reactions and or realistic present-day fears. I think the Leftist stuff about power is absolutely major and is a major problem in their theory in general, not just related to Israel or Jews."

For the life of me, it's hard to fathom that so many people on the left, who have compassion for every single group on the planet (from sufferers of oppression to chemical sensitivities) have such rage at Israel that Jewish pain can only be seen as manipulative. It was in the environment of another bout of virulent anti-Semitism, after the post-enlightenment liberal societies had failed to deliver a healthy enough society that the Jews were protected from A-S, that Zionism was born, like any other liberation movement.

For various reasons Zionism was not enough to stop the atrocities of WWII, which are still recalled by millions of people alive today and are not just some manipulation (though I'm sure it can seem that way if you're sick of hearing about it while the Palestinians suffer).

Another friend sent me the following video clip taken at last summer's "peace" rally. Can anyone imagine the uproar in the Bay Area if "Israel" and "Jews" were substituted with "Palestine" and "Palestinians?" This stuff is chilling to me and to many of us.

http://jcrc.org/israel/hate.htm

So I guess that leaves me with this metaphor: there is rot in some of the roots of the Zionist tree.. absolutely...from my perspective that is true for the Palestine Liberation movements, the political left and right, western powers and the Arab world...and with the recent coup on Fiji, once again I'm reminded that there is nowhere to run or hide and we have to work together to heal what we have sown.

Judging from my experience and read of history, I don't believe that we should chop down all of these trees and burn the forest NOR do I believe that we should fixate on chopping down only the Zionist tree as the left would have it, or the Radical Islamic tree as the right would have it...As Jesus admonished: let's take the beam out of our own eyes before focusing on the splinter in someone else's...and look at all of the rot and irrigate it together...perhaps the world is in need of a massive root canal:)

So I would like to propose that we continue this dialogue with the following guidelines:

that we acknowledge the suffering and/or fear of the players in the middle east's affairs that has led to the need for trying to have control over their circumstances, including control over others,

that we study together each other's narratives (several good versions of the dual narrative out now that show the Palestinian and Jewish/Israeli stories)

and that we keep finding ways to look at the beam in our own eyes/our own systems of belief (and not just have the Jews doing this!)

and that when we've done the hard and gritty work of really being able to be in hard conversations about this topic while holding deep compassion for the circumstances that led to the difficulties we are trying to combat, that then and only then do we go public with Allan's idea of forums through AFSC and Paul's proposal to be on KPFA.

Re-reading the intro to Buber's Land of Two People's early yesterday morning, I was again struck by his stunning recognition that G-d is in politics and that politics is never complete, always evolving, situation by situation. If these times don't call for us being mindful of the depths and complexities in order to navigate through them, I don't know when humanity will ever have another chance.

As a colleague of mine said after 911: "there are no more prizes for predicting the flood, only for building the ark."

Shalom, Salaam, Peace,

Rachel Eryn

Date: Thu, 14 Dec 2006 18:59:12 -0800 (PST)
From: "PAUL LARUDEE"
Subject: Continuing the conversation

Eryn,

I haven't read all the responses and am not sure I will have the time to do so. To keep things simple and for the sake of continuity, I would like to keep the central thread the dialog between you and me. Is that OK with you? We can have all the side conversations, but I don't want to respond to a message where you are responding to B rather than my last post to you (for example).

If you would rather not do that any more, that is up to you and everyone can join in and we will have a discussion more like those on typical listserves. However, I was finding our dialog valuable.

Paul

From: Eryn
Date: Thu, 14 Dec 2006 23:20:25 EST
Subject: Continuing the conversation

Thanks Paul...actually what I was naming to you in previous posts about lack of empathy and the lack of connection with Jewish suffering is a huge issue for me and for many of us...B just happened to be the major carrier of that voice in this round of email; I believe if there is to be any true break through in this conflict (as in any conflict) people have to really understand each other's world views, pain, hopes, fears and vision.

I've received several offline comments from former members today who are too frightened or upset to attend dialogue meetings anymore, so I would like you to address my comments from today's post if you're willing to as it seems to be a key component of our disagreements as well.

Again, I'm not asking anyone to change how they see the situation for the Palestinians, only to expand that sight to include the Israeli and Jewish narrative...so that together we can move to something that just might work for more of us as Bay Area peacemakers who care dearly about this conflict and it's resolution.

Also wondering about your response to my suggested guidelines for continuing...

Warmly,

Eryn

Date: Thu, 14 Dec 2006 21:57:01 -0800 (PST)
From: "PAUL LARUDEE"
Subject: Continuing the conversation

Eryn,

My apologies to B and some of the others who have posted, but I have only scanned a lot of the discussion. I find it difficult to thoughtfully address so much without giving up my day job and possibly my family as well, which is why I earlier asked Eryn if we could do one issue at a time, and I think it has worked out well.

With respect to the issue of empathy, Palestinian Ambassador Afif Safieh said that for Jews the most important historical event is the Holocaust. For Armenians it is their genocide. For African-Americans it is slavery. For indigenous Americans it is their genocide. And for Palestinians it is al-Nakba.

This is not to equate any of these; they are all unique. And there is not a single generation in all of human history that is free from mass killings and ethnic cleansings and other atrocities, usually multiple ones. And it is important to recognize and share each other's pain.

You may see that as a means to reconciliation. I do not. I see it as an end in itself that is independent of reconciliation. Whatever else happens, we must care for each other. I have not met any Palestinians who deny the Holocaust, although some must surely exist. A minority have said that Hitler had the right idea. I like to think that this is out of frustration, and when I suggest that without Hitler Israel might not exist, most of them see my point. The vast majority acknowledge that it was a terrible thing, but wonder why they have to pay for it.

I think that reconciliation, on the other hand, is a function of correcting existing injustices and resolving existing grievances. Empathy is not merely the sharing of the pain of the other. It is also the pain of parents watching a child become addicted to drugs, or of seeing friends in an abusive relationship. They may not want your help or even see what you see, but if you care, you will do something to help them anyway. (And yes, your interpretation of events can also be mistaken.)

This is one way (though hopefully not the only one) that many of us express our empathy with Jews. Part of the tragedy for me is that I see Jews becoming racists and oppressors. How can so many otherwise good persons perpetrate such cruelty in the name of self-defense and self-determination? Many say they don't want to but feel that they have no choice. That is what I think I hear you saying, to a degree.

I used to wonder what could make Germans do what they did, or Japanese, or segregationists, or Indian fighters. There are no equations, but people and societies can be in denial and can rationalize the most horrible acts, even while they proclaim the best of intentions. This is the tragedy that I see happening to Jews. Who was it that said, "We can forgive you for killing our children, but we can never forgive you for making us kill yours?" To put it in perspective (not equation), there is even a matching Nazi quotation about "civilized" Germans being forced to kill Jewish children from the Warsaw ghetto who defied the closure. I know that hurts, but I think it's important to see the horrible direction that such kind of talk leads.

I just don't think it is helpful to Jews or anyone else to perpetuate injustice in order to be respectful of their fears and "needs." In fact, I think just the opposite is true. They may not like such a message, but if we love, care and respect them, it is our obligation to try to help.

I recognize that the idea of an integrated society that permits Jews and non-Jews to live where they choose may be perceived as a great risk. However, I firmly believe that not to do so is the greater risk, and is necessary to prevent continued and potentially increasing tragedy for both Israelis and Palestinians. I think it is true regardless of the Palestinian response, but I also believe that if Israel does its part to remove injustices, Palestinians will respond in kind.

I'm not pretending that it is easy, but few things are, that are worth doing.

Paul

From: Eryn
Date: Fri, 15 Dec 2006 01:11:33 EST
Subject: Continuing the conversation

Paul I feel like I'm at the end of a road with you...a road I've really appreciated walking down, but I think we have to just agree to disagree on this.

When I talk with fundamentalist Christians, I always hit a wall where they just believe that there is only one way to G-d and it's through Jesus...I always wish them blessings and say, "we'll find out some day if that's true..it's not my sense that anything in the world has only one path, though you may be right." I feel like I've hit the wall of your fundamentalism and I sense you feel that you've hit mine.

All I can say is that ANYTHING we do, say, or convey that puts up a wall of defensiveness will not serve resolution...I find myself now feeling defensive in response to what I hear from you as so much judgement and arrogance and self-righteousness and utter lack of understanding in the face of my being very open and vulnerable...

and you're right, this is taking an inordinate amount of time.

Thank you so much for the opportunity to have this conversation in public...I appreciate the time we and others have spent on it..and now, I guess I would say what I've said to those fundamentalist Christians: I guess we'll see...we'll each do our work and may the conflict resolve in spite of what we each see as the other's intransigent positions and because of our good intentions and the intentions and prayers of so many worldwide.

All Blessings for peace,

Eryn

From: Eryn
Date: Fri, 15 Dec 2006 01:16:45 EST
Subject: PS

There are very few Palestinians that I've met who know that the Mufti of Jerusalem worked as Hitler's propagandist, or how allied some (relatively few) Palestinians were with the Nazis, and how when the Jews were burning that not only did the rest of the world not help or allow Jewish immigration but neither did the Palestinians, who put pressure on the British NOT to allow Jews in..so the line that is so commonly used "why do we have to pay for it" speaks of a total innocence that is not warranted...as I said in an earlier post, we all have blood on our hands Paul.

Date: Fri, 15 Dec 2006 06:40:56 -0800 (PST)
From: "PAUL LARUDEE"
Subject: Continuing the conversation (addendum)

Sorry. I already see a bunch of messages, but before I read them there was something that I meant to include and forgot to.

Eryn, please don't let this disturb your sleep. We're having what I regard as an important conversation, but very little is that important. Take it from someone who receives phone threats and anonymous mail, and has had his car vandalized with eggs and pro-Israel stickers, and a smashed window. My home address is well publicized. It isn't worth losing sleep, in my opinion, and I sleep very well. Security is an illusion, and yes, I lock my car and house, but I refuse to worry beyond that.

I don't know if that helps, but I hope so. If not, even this dialog is not that important.

Paul

Date: Fri, 15 Dec 2006 08:01:21 -0800 (PST)
From: "PAUL LARUDEE"
Subject: Ending the conversation

Eryn,

I'm sorry if I'm a bit thickheaded sometimes. We may be, as you say, at the end of the road on which we are now walking, and I have no problem with agreeing to disagree. I also appreciate your willingness to engage in this dialog, which has been useful for me, hopefully for you, and presumably for many others as well.

I confess that I'm somewhat disappointed that it didn't end on a better note than name-calling. I don't think it is constructive to be called arrogant and self-righteous, and especially without explanation. Perhaps I am, but that is not the way to break it to me, nor to increase understanding. I thought I was also being open and vulnerable, and as you said, we may have hit each other's walls, which are the limits of our vulnerability and openness.

Regardless of this, however, I concur with your wishes for our good intentions to carry us to a just resolution. Thank you for permitting this to go forward, and I again invite you to a dialog group meeting, which offers the opportunity to engage with others, as you have already done on line. I think your perspective is an important one.

Paul

From: Eryn
Date: Fri, 15 Dec 2006 11:36:52 EST
Subject: Ending the conversation

Paul thanks for your continued graciousness...I didn't mean to call you names...thought I was saying that I interpreted what you said to be those things but I don't think I wrote as clearly as I could/wish I had. So please forgive me.

I guess I really feel sad because I think you are so obviously smart, knowledgeable, caring about this conflict even though you are neither Jewish nor Palestinian. So it's particularly frustrating. I don't expect anyone relating to this conflict with as much passionate intensity as you do to change their minds...I so long for people to just expand them.

After so many years of doing mediation and conflict transformation work, I have seen even very difficult conflicts resolve when the parties had the willingness and capacity (both are needed) to clearly see and convey understanding and empathy of the other's point...I have also seen really "silly" or seemingly "small" conflicts get nowhere because capacity and willingness were missing. This has been my experience whether dealing with family, organizational, community or international conflicts.

When I hear what I interpret as writing off the capacity and willingness building aspects to focus only on a lower right quadrant solution, it's hard to know where to go, because I don't believe those solutions will come about, or be accepted by the parties involved even if they are imposed from the outside, without a critical mass of those involved holding a larger sense of the roots of the conflict...all of them...the rot and the good of each of the systems that co-created it.

Anyway, enough for now....again my apologies that it sounded like I was calling you names.

All Blessings,

Eryn

From: Eryn
Date: Fri, 15 Dec 2006 11:42:13 EST
Subject: Continuing the conversation (addendum)

Thanks Paul..it does help and I'm sorry you have suffered so..as you know, it's a very triggery topic...

my constitution is not really built for this...I'm a monk at heart...someday I hope we will all be dancing in the streets celebrating peace in the middle east again...may it be so soon.

Warmly,

Eryn

Date: Fri, 15 Dec 2006 17:28:40 -0800 (PST)
From: "PAUL LARUDEE"
Subject: Ending the conversation

Thanks, Eryn. Apology/explanation accepted.

I think it's still surprising how much we agree on a lot of principles. For example, I also think it is important for all of us to expand our thinking and try to find new ways. That's why I sought you out in the first place.

I am constantly trying to challenge my own thinking and that of others, but my preferred method/style is somewhat different from yours. To coin a phrase, I would call it "compassionate confrontation." I think that confrontation is an important means of stretching our perceptions, but it has to be respectful and preferably compassionate. The idea is not really new even if the term is. It is the basis of civil disobedience and nonviolent resistance, which is confrontational by design, and as you know, it has a strong appeal for me.

I realize that your style is compassionate listening, but I think the two are complementary and may even work better together than either one in isolation, if the goal is to expand thinking. Please forgive me if I overstepped the bounds of provocation at any point, but I meant no disrespect, and I think you understood that.

I think that the exchange has been good for me in ways that I have yet to digest, and I hope that you also benefited from it in ways that are not for me to say. It certainly has been stimulating, and even intense.

As far as the road to resolution is concerned, I agree that a lot of it has to with reaching out and caring. However, I can't imagine that any amount will mean much to a Palestinian who is being denied access to his/her land or whose rights are subject to daily revision by a soldier at a checkpoint. I think that such a person will find it absurd to be asked to reassure a Jewish Israeli, living what is by comparison a comfortable life in Tel iv, that he/she understands his/her pain.

Sorry, didn't mean to start up again. I just wanted to address what you were saying about the need for understanding and empathy. That may be what's needed for (some) Israelis, but I think Palestinians have more basic concerns, and I can imagine them saying, "Sure, I'm happy to give you all the caring, empathy and understanding you want - love and warm embraces, even - just give me my land and my rights."

OK, so perhaps that's an impasse, but I hope and imagine that we will both be working to break it in our own ways. In the meantime, I pledge to keep working to see things in new ways, and hope you will, too.

Thanks again for accepting my invitation.

Paul

The Town of Martyrs

2006-08-29T04:21:00.000-07:00

Beirut
29 August, 2006

"You're just a kid," scoffed nonogenarian Ahmed Yehya al-Hajj when I told him I was sixty years old. "I have sons older than you and a grandson over fifty."

Ahmed is fortunate to be alive, and not just because of his age. He was visiting one of his many offspring in the village of Houla when the house was struck by an Israeli missile. First reports were that as many as sixty people may have died, but in fact there was only one fatality and several very serious injuries, some permanent. Still bad enough, for those affected.

The survivors showed me the remnants of the missile. They also shared the remnants of their hopes and dreams. Newlyweds had been living in the house, their furniture and wedding gifts now part of the rubble. Were there fighters in the building? No, just civilians, all members of the al-Hajj family.

I can't tell you how many times I've heard the same thing from different families in different places at different times. Is there a vast conspiracy among the million victims to pretend that they are all civilians? I doubt it. The more obvious and likely explanation is that civilian targets were the rule and military ones the exception.

On the ground across the street was one of the many destroyed water tanks that had been atop a house. Denial of access to water was a major strategic goal of the Israeli military. In each of the hundreds of towns and villages in the south, hundreds of these tanks became targets. In Houla, the four main water towers were among the first casualties of the invasion. Pumps, generators and major plumbing arteries had also been targeted.

Of course, water was not the only target. Electricity, roads, bridges, schools and occasionally even hospitals and ambulances had come under attack. Israel's defense is that these facilities get used by Hezbollah. That's true, but if Hezbollah fighters breathe air, does that mean that air should be cut off to all areas in which they operate? This seems to be the logic of Israeli strategy. The result is massive "collateral" death and damage to civilians, since everything that sustains life can potentially be made to sustain fighters. Such logic fosters war crimes.

Houla is in fact known as the "village of martyrs". (The terms is used to mean anyone who dies at the hands of the enemy, whether a combattant or not.) More than 100 were slaughtered by Israelis in 1948. They were placed in a mass grave now covered with trees but no markers. A monument in another section of town serves as a memorial. Another ninety villagers were killed during the Israeli invasion of 1982, during which the death toll rose to 17,500 Lebanese and Palestinians in the space of three months. Nonetheless, there is competion for Houla's title. Qana lost more than one hundred civilians to a single Israeli strike in 1996 and another 54 were reported killed by a guided missile last month. Other villages have similar histories.

The need for sustenance can become a trap in both directions, as well. We were shown a house where twelve Israeli soldiers were killed by four resistance fighters. The soldiers had decided to use a particularly comfortable house three nights in a row to eat, drink and sleep at night. During the soldiers' daytime sorties, fighters got into the basement of the house, waited until most of the soldiers were asleep, and then went upstairs and slaughtered them all. Their bloodstains were still on the mattresses, floor and doors.

In the same village, an Apache helicopter fired a wire-guided missile into another house, killing two young mothers. Volunteers of our civil resistance group interviewed the survivors about their needs, especially baby clothing, diapers, formula and bottled water. We also met the four-year-old son of one of the women. He could not explain why he was unable to cry, but the relatives taking care of him say that he cannot sleep for more than a few hours at a time and generally refuses to talk about his mother's death. Chances are that he feels guilty for being alive and watching his mother die, according to the nurse in our group.

There is much more, of course. A middle-aged man in an undershirt and brown pants told me that he had had nothing else to wear for weeks, having barely escaped with his life when his house was hit. These experiences would have to be multipied many thousands of times, with at least a million directly affected and the entire population of Lebanon indirectly affected.

I have occasionally met with Hezbollah spokespersons, always respectful and grateful for our efforts. However, they never agree to be photographed. On the other hand, I have never encountered victims who did not want to speak on camera or have their photograph taken, which makes it exceedingly unlikely that any of them are Hezbollah, and which corroborates their reports that the damage is civilian.

Leaving Houla, we went to Beirut via the Beqaa valley, a route that took us by the border areas that I had visited as a guest of Mohammed el-Amine less than a week before the fighting started. At one point where the Lebanese and Israeli roads run next to each other with a fence in between, we saw two Israeli workers repairing the fence and a settler in a pickup driving opposite us, in the same direction. The tidy Israeli settlements with their red tile roofs were in stark contrast to the massive destruction on our side of the border.

We didn't make it to Beirut. Khalil and Naim, members of the team who offered to take us, prevailed upon us to have dinner at their home in Libbayeh, atop the 1,200-meter peak of a mountain ridge at the edge of the valley. Opposite us to the East towered 2,800-meter Mt. Hermon (Jabal al-Shaikh) and to the West, on the other side of the valley, the Mount Lebanon range. On the way to this isolated community, we stopped at the home of a completely self-sufficient traditional farm housing approximately twenty family members preparing their barley crop. They had sheep, chickens, goats and a cow; all kinds of grains except rice; spring water, fruits, nuts and vegetables. A hunter passed by wearing a jacket of various shotgun shells, including a special one for either bear or Israeli armored vehicles (according to him.

Dinner at Khalil's house was made from the most delicious and freshest ingredients, all grown and raised from the immediate surroundings. Fruit could be picked from the vines and trees in front of our eyes. Khalil's father was the consumate host, allowing me to beat him at backgammon even though he is the village champion - or so he said. We ended up meeting half the town, watching Hezbollah leader Hassan Nasrallah's speech on television, and sleeping in the cool air far from Beirut's sweltering heat and humidity.

Not that Libbayeh was untouched by the invasion. An area outside the town had been used as a staging area for commandos striking Baalbek, and some of the roads had been cut. Libbayeh had been hit much more heavily during Israel's last occupation from 1982 to 2000, and much had been damaged and destroyed during that time. The house in which we slept had in 2000 seen a missile that went entirely through it, whisking a gun from the hands of its owner and causing a broken finger as the only injury. Nonetheless, the wounds were still fresh and the townspeople very much on the alert.

We finally made it to Beirut the next day, and in a few hours there will be a meeting to discuss strategies for breaking the Israeli blockade of Lebanon. Currently no one comes or goes without Israeli permission. The plan is to defy Israel and assert Lebanese sovereignty rights by going without permission. The biggest obstacle right now is a boat willing to do it. However, we hope to solve this later today or tomorrow. I hope it happens soon, because I'm due to leave in a few days.

Paul Larudee

Picking Up the Pieces

2006-08-22T11:09:00.000-07:00

20 August, 2006

Silaa is a small village in southern Lebanon that, according to the villagers, has thus far been overlooked by all of the aid agencies except our small, inefficient grassroots group of amateurs. Nevertheless the townspeople had managed to get an earth mover and a dump truck, which were clearing the road and pushing the debris into the bomb craters and down the side of the hill.

Abu Yousef, the caretaker of the house where we are staying, across the valley in Deir Kifa, is from Silaa, and introduced us to the worst affected families. Parts of eight bodies had been recovered, a hand here, a head there, a torso with clothes still on it. The hand could be identified by the ring and the torso by the ID in the pocket. Gruesome work, and very hard on both the workers and the loved ones. The youngest was two years old, the oldest seventy. However, there were four bodies that as a practical matter would have to remain beneath the rubble, with no remnant for the funeral.

A survivor explained that two laser-guided missiles had hit his house. The first narrowly missed the main structure and struck the well underneath. The family had barely enough time to escape before the second one hit, collapsing the entire house upon itself.

Mohammed Ayoub, another survivor, was not so lucky. All of the dead were from the extended Ayoub family, and four were his immediate relatives, including his son and his son's wife. A quiet, introspective man, Mohammed had escaped to Beirut early and had returned to find much of the family dead or homeless. His voice broke as he reluctantly described his ordeal in clipped phrases, finding the words painful.

His brother, Hussein, who speaks English allowed me to record him on film:

"Let Bush come here. Let him see. Let him feel, if he has feelings. He has none. If he has feelings, he would never send his smart bombs to kill civilians. From the first moment he could have stopped the war. He could say, 'Stop! It's enough killing. It's enough blood. It's enough crime. In five minutes he can stop everything. I know he has the power of the world, but he's using it wrong.

"The United States is a great country. I love the United States. It's a freedom country. So why did the United States do like this? Why do they protect criminals? If they want to fight Hezbollah, why do they bury civilians alive while they're sleeping in their houses?

"One million refugees ran away. We came back to find our homes. That's my house right there that they're clearing away. I have my brother's son and his wife there, young people. We never found even pieces of their bodies.

"Why? Why? I want to ask the policy of the USA. This is not a new Middle East. It's a new dictatorship. To obey you is not a new Middle East. I love or hate you for what you do. We want peace, but not the way Condoleeza Rice is doing it. They're protecting criminals."

They asked if I wanted to photograph the remains of Mohammed Ayoub's son. Mohammed at first understandably objected, but others thought that the message was important. I agreed to do so. They were pitifully small. They then showed me his picture, a presentable young man in a casual V-neck and crew cut.

We met with the mayor of the town to arrange delivery of the relief supplies the following day and to see what else we might be able to do for the town. We also sent a press release and planned a media event where the survivors of each family would address a town gathering.

Following the meeting, we were taken to a home which had been struck by a spent shell. I photographed it and the hole it had made, and I viewed bullets and shells that had been collected by the young men of the town. They said that the bullets had come down like rain and their collection seemed to justify the claim, as did the many more still on the ground in some places. Most of them were high velocity 50-caliber vehicle-mounted shells about five inches long, including the cartridge, and about half were exploding projectiles, some of which had failed to detonate.

I'm finding it hard to wrap the scale of a single month's destruction into my poor brain. It's hard enough to view the damage to one town or one family. I get stuck on the multiplication times the number of places that I have seen - never mind the many more that I have not. And always, always, people are kind and respectful, even when they know that I am American. They even joke about taking some of my blood, and I argue that it's less valuable because I am diabetic. They are still able to enjoy humor amidst the grief. Perhaps it helps to keep busy with the task of putting one's life back together. There is so much to do.

Paul Larudee

The Road to Recovery

2006-08-22T11:06:00.000-07:00

Deir Kifa, Lebanon
19 August, 2006

A few days make all the difference. The Lebanese army had laid a temporary bridge across the Litani river, which cut our wait time to less than five minutes. The total time from Beirut to Tyre was under three hours, less than a third what it had been only three days earlier.

My companions were fellow ISM volunteer Alberto Cruz from ISM-Spain and Mohamad Safieddine, a 20-year-old agriculture student at the American University of Beirut, in whose car we were traveling. Mohamad is from the coastal city of al-Naqqoura, just north of the Israeli border, but it was his first time back since the start of the Israeli invasion of his homeland. In something of a role reversal, therefore, Alberto and I became his guides. We took him along the roads we had traveled in previous days, where he saw the devastation that I have described in previous reports.

There were, however, already several differences. First, the Lebanese army had started to deploy in some places, and a few UN troops were also in place. The ones that I asked said they were from Ghana, which means that they were part of the UNIFIL forces who have been here for years, now probably trying to be an advance presence under the new mandate for the French-led forces due to arrive soon as part ot the multinational peacekeepers recently authorized by UN resolution 1701.

The task of cleaning and rebuilding had also clearly begun in earnest. Earthmoving equipment could be seen clearing the roads from crushed buildings mixed with family portraits, stamp collections and high school diplomas, now mere landfill. Repair crews were already restringing cables and laying pipeline and conduits. Hezbollah had also had also put up trademark yellow banners to welcome returnees, journalists and visitors in English, Arabic and French. "Made in USA" captioned the worst areas of destruction, as did "This is your democracy, USA" and "This is the new Middle East". "The Great Lebanon has deseated [sic] the murders[sic]." "Rice, they will not see your new Mideast." In Tyre, mass graves were being dug for the dead and almost every town and village along the way was having funerals.

Our group, a total of about twenty Lebanese and international volunteers, were all making their way to Deir Kifa to do grassroots relief and solidarity work in areas as yet largely unserved by ogther agencies. Our destination was the spacious home of Mohammed Elamine, an old friend of mine from Saudi Arabia whose hospitality I had shared under completely different circumstances only six weeks earlier, mere days before the invasion. He and his wife Lourdes were among the American citizens evacuated near the start of the bombing and shelling, and he was now staying with his youngest son Rami in Baltimore while another son, Bilal, a well-known journalist and co-founder of Left Turn Magazine, opened the house for us.

Mohamad, Alberto and I had left Beirut early in order to go to Maroun al-Ras, on the border with Israel before meeting up with the group at Deir Kifa. Alberto had been refused entry by Israeli soldiers a few days earlier, and the mayor of the town, whom he had interviewed, had expressed grave concern for the welfare of those still inside, mostly old people with whom the Israelis had allowed no communication. We wanted to see what we could do to help, and to report to our group on the current status.

The good news was that the soldiers had left the day before. We spoke to Mustafa Faris, an 80-year-old resident who had survived alone in his house on cracked wheat, onions and well water for 34 days. Had he spoken to the soldiers? Had they supplied the townspeople with food and water, as they had told Alberto a few days ago? He had spoken with them, but they had supplied nothing. I asked in what language they had communicated. In Arabic, he replied. The soldiers were all Arabs, including Druze, bedouins, Algerians, Yemenis and Moroccans. (Some of them may have come from Israel's third-class non-Jewish Palestinian minorities, while others were probably from among the second-class Jews from Arab countries.)

Mustafa's nephew, Nimr Faris, invited Alberto and me to come to his house while Mohamad went back to the car to get the few relief supplies that we had brought with us. A few weeks ago, Nimr and thirty other family members, including twenty children, had fled to Sidon after ten terrifying days in the unfinished lower level of their house while bombs and shells rained down and the Israeli occupiers kept them penned in their homes. Only Nimr's elderly father, Diab, the brother of Mustafa, and his mother refused to leave. Tears poured and embraces lingered as the three of them were reunited, removing the anxious doubts for each other's wellbeing. In this family, at least, everyone survived unscathed, a blessing compared the tragedies of some of their neighbors.

The total number of dead in the village was uncertain. Two were being buried that day, and at least three were suspected to be under the rubble of the homes. The smell of death was strongest near the entrance of the village, where the Israelis had bombed the cemetery. How long do corpses continue to reek after they are buried? Or was the smell from the surrounding destruction, offering fresh fodder for maggots and bacteria? As I tucked my nose in my shirt, I wondered how Israeli soldiers could allow themselves to remain among the stench of their handiwork as a reminder of their actions. How does that play on the mind?

As we left Maroun al-Ras, we took a route through many more villages, most of them with large swathes of destruction. The scale stretches the imagination, and especially the short time scale during which the havoc had been wreaked. It is hard to imagine that these were the lovely villages and towns through which I had passed not so long ago.

One of the remarkable things about the resistance in south Lebanon was the degree to which Hezbollah preserved its communication system. Wireless systems would have been intercepted, so it appears to depend upon cables, probably with lots of redundant routes so as to survive ruptures and to cut off tapped connections. Indeed, some of the resdents report seeing such work in years past, suspecting that some of their more influencial neighbors had gotten special privileges. This might explain why Israel attacked the telephone and electrical systems so heavily. Wherever we went, the road was strewn with cables, and the electrical pilons had been toppled. Bomb and artillery craters had ruptured the roads, as well as the conduits beneath and beside them.

All for naught. Hezbollah appeared to have preserved its communication and coordination systems intact regardless of how much the Israelis threw at them. There were stories of entire mountaintops being raised on jacks so as to fire rockets from inside, then reclose before the Israelis hit back. The truth may be more prosaic, but there is no doubt that guerilla tactics included elaborate underground fortifications that permitted them to survive and continue fighting under the most persistent barrages. It brought to mind the massive concrete bunkers that I had seen littering the countryside in Yugoslavia many years ago. Marshall Tito's fortifications were more visible, in order to act as a deterrent for any forces foolish enough to consider invading his country. The Israelis had clearly encountered a situation unlike any they had seen before.

When we finally arrived at Deir Kifa, we found that we were the first to arrive, although we had been on the road more than seven hours. Only the caretaker, Abu Yousef and Bilal Elamine were there, alhough others from Tyre were not long in joining us. We took the opportunity to relax, wash off the dust and smells of the day and refresh ourselves. It wasn't until 9:00 in the evening that three other cars from Beirut arrived. A late evening meeting determined that a team would do more factfinding at some villages while the rest would begin relief at the neighboring village of Silaa in the morning. We went to bed looking forward to working side by side with people rebuilding their communities.

Paul Larudee

The Next Move

2006-08-22T10:56:00.000-07:00

Beirut
17 August, 2006

We almost went south again early this morning. At the meeting yesterday, ISM volunteer Alberto Arce reported that on his factfinding tour he had come upon Israeli soldiers preventing entry to the village of Maroun al-Ras, not far from the route that my team took yesterday. The mayor, who lived just outside the village, had told him that he had had no contact with the villagers who had remained in the town, mostly old people, for several weeks, and was very worried for their welfare.

Alberto and a Venezuelan journalist determined to find out for themselves and were turned away. We therefore discussed the feasibility of doing an action to reach these people. Although we had sufficient volunteers, we decided to call it off late last night for several reasons. First, roughly half the volunteers had no training and no experience in such situations. Second, the meeting had already scheduled a training session to take place in Beirut tonight, which would have to be canceled because the trainer (Huwaida) and some of the trainees would be in the south. Finally, one of our number currently in the south reported by phone that she had been successful in reaching Maroun al-Ras with a team from Medecins Sans Frontieres.

We therefore decided that it would be more important to do the training this evening and then consider going tomorrow. We intended to go tomorrow for two days anyway as a large group, to do a retreat and extended strategy session over two days at a large house in the country, so some of us could leave earlier to try to do an action at Maroun al-Ras or another village still occupied by Israeli troups. Huwaida is leaving on Saturday, and although Adam and I can do some training, she is definitely the best in this regard, and can do it bilingually much better than either of us. It is therefore a high priority to use her to best advantage before she leaves.

The retreat will be a major milestone for ISM-Lebanon. We will discuss the goals, structure and decision-making procedures of the group. It remains to be seen to what extent we will have a role if the Israeli military pulls out completely. I see us as useful in making nonviolent trouble for foreign occupiers and usurpers, especially when they are on the soil of an indigenous population without their consent. I therefore wonder how much we will have to do if Israeli forces do in fact pull out from everywhere except the Shebaa farms. Is that the only place to try to mount resistance? The situation was always different from Palestine in several important respects, and it's now becoming less and less so.

Paul Larudee

The Land is Still There

2006-08-22T10:54:00.000-07:00

Beirut
16 August, 2006

By the time we returned to Siddiqine yesterday morning, someone had cleared the dead cows and hopefully adopted the new calf barely standing the night before. Other than that, there is little in the way of good news.

Large areas of Siddiqine, Bint Jbeil and many other villages and towns are completely devastated. We spoke to one driver whose car was piled high with foam mattresses. He said he was from the local village but couldn't figure out where his house had been. I filled my camera with frame after frame of destruction, but soon realized the futility of it all, and limited myself to shots that had a unique and often ironic twist to them, such as the suggestion box framed with destruction in a recently beautiful new school where our team member Maryam had taught. I asked her a few questions while the camera was running, but the references to details of life before the invasion brought tears to her eyes where there had only been surprise. Why hit the schools?

Huge craters cut many of the roads and pulverized some areas of the towns. At least half the houses were uninhabitable, but many did not exist at all. There was talk of a special type of bomb or artillery shell that made a strange crater that was deep but not wide. Were these "bunker busters?" I took some pictures of unexploded ordnance on the ground, including a huge shell with the number 500 on it and some Hebrew writing. I'm hoping Huwaida will be able to translate it. Thankfully, I found no signs of cluster bombs, but brought back some shrapnel that is as heavy as lead but not as soft. Is it depleted uranium? I hope to find out. That is associated with "bunker busters", and it's my understanding that while the shrapnel is not particularly dangerous to handle, it turns to dust and burns when it strikes hardened steel, creating a cancerous long term environmental disaster. I hope my worst fears are unfounded.

In the village of Aita al-Shaab we found a family sifting by hand through the remains of their house. They found what they were looking for: the bodies of the grandparents, several weeks old and not all in one piece. They were no longer human beings, but rather masses of putrid, rotting flesh falling off the bones, leaving an unmistakable stench that was only partially mitigated by some coverings that the family had placed to try to preserve a shred of dignity.

In her grief, the daughter of the elderly couple launched into an indictment of George Bush and the U.S. relationship with Israel, which I was fortunate enough to capture on film:

"Let the people of America see our children. Let all Americans know what Mr. Bush has done to us, that this is his democracy, his "New Middle East". We don't blame Israelis. We have always known what they are. I have a two-year-old baby who can't stop saying, 'They broke my house. I want my house.' Can the American president answer this child? Have the American people no reaction to the gifts of Mr. Bush to the people of Lebanon? He cares more about a dog than for the killing of an entire nation. Does he want to kill the people of the Middle East to create a 'land without people'? We are the Middle East, and without us there is none. Heaven without angels is not heaven. I do not blame the Israelis. I blame Bush, who proclaims democracy and humanity and freedom and dignity, to be imposed upon the entire world with steel and fire, while he professes to believe in God. That's what I want to tell Mr. Bush. I'm looking for my Mom and Dad underneath these ruins. To me they are everything, and even a grain of the soil of this land is more honorable than Mr.Bush. He cannot rule our country even under fire. Even if we are dead, we will be free. His great technology is useless. Is this the way to use technology? Let him learn how to use technology for good. He cannot rule us this way. We are honored to give our blood for our country, even our souls and our houses. We live under the sun of freedom, while he [Bush] has no honor. We've been looking for my parents for 22 days, but of course this is of no interest to Mr. Bush. Let Americans know that the hunger that they suffer is so that Israel can have the weapons to destroy Arab countries. I hope that Americans learn the reality of what is going on. We will stay here. This is our land. We are not afraid of them and their weapons."

As we continued to survey the region, I had expected to see some of the 30,000 Israeli soldiers that were supposedly deployed there. My experience in Palestine made me think that there would be checkpoints and controls everywhere and that I would find myself face to face with Israeli troops throughout the trip. I was therefore surprised to see only three soldiers atop a tank on a hill above the road during the entire day. Even when we drove right next to the border, there was no evidence of troops on either side. This is occupation? What controls are the multinational force going to take over?

Of course there was plenty of evidence that they had been there recently. They had painted graffiti, broken into some of the homes, put their cigarettes out on the furniture, eaten the food, smashed nearly everything that could be smashed and vandalized wedding pictures and pictures of the Virgin Mary. (Just to show you the misconceptions westerners hold about religious attitudes here, the house belonged to a Muslim man who simply liked to venerate this Christian icon of his fellow Lebanese.)

The blurring of borders occurred on our last stop, as well, in the village of Dhe'ira, on the way to the coast. The people of this village are part of a larger tribe, similar to Bedouin, whose community straddles the border with Israel. More than half live on the Israeli side, with families split down the middle. In many cases, the parents or grandparents live on one side of the border and the children on the other. However, no Lebanese are permitted to go to Israel and no Israeli citizens may come to Lebanon. There, in a bucolic setting of tobacco fields, a taxi driver, Bilal, invited us to his home after showing us some of the damage done by the Israeli invasion in his community. His own home had been untouched, and his hospitality was a welcome respite from the horrors we had witnessed during the day. Even the physical act of washing hands and face from the dust and the smells seemed like an act of purification. We thanked Bilal and made our way back through more destroyed villages to the coast and then north to Tyre.

Although the sun was almost setting in Tyre, Ismail was determined to make it back to Beirut. I was equally determined to send out yesterday's report and download the pictures from my camera. We compromised. We found a Turkish journalist at the Tyre Rest House who helped me download my pictures and then we left. However the traffic jam was so great that the Lebanese soldiers advised us to turn back and try again in a couple of hours. That gave me the chance to send yesterday's report and everyone else a chance to snooze on the beach while I toiled over a hot computer. I was seriously skeptical about reaching Beirut before morning, but Ismail's optimism turned out to be justified. The Lebanese army had worked a few miracles with the road (though not the bridge over the Litani river), and we made it back in three hours.

I have already learned that some of our colleagues who took different routes had more direct and disturbing contacts with Israeli troops. We will meet late this afternoon to make some plans based on our factfinding and decide what actions we want to take. There is plenty of work left to do and we will have to find our role in doing it.

Paul Larudee

On the Road with the Returning Lebanese

2006-08-22T10:52:00.000-07:00

On the Road with the Returning Lebanese

Beirut
15 August, 2006
7:00 a.m.

This beautiful, quiet morning in Tyre fails to appropriately mourn the Lebanese lives that have been lost. The residual coolness of the night is too refreshing for the occasion, and the pilotless drones circling overhead sound more like large mosquitoes than spotters for the weapons of the fourth most powerful military force on earth.

The drones had plenty to observe yesterday. If the drive from Beirut is any indication, as many as 100,000 Lebanese may have tried to return to their homes in the south yesterday. It took us nine hours to travel what had been less than an hour away only five weeks earlier. As hawkers sold bottles of cold water to a captive market of passengers trapped in the traffic, residents of the coastal towns taunted us, "You will not return…" We laughed, which made the wait more bearable.

I soon tired of taking pictures of bombed-out bridges, overpasses and pedestrian walkovers. I had enough to show that Israel had been determined to cripple Lebanese life and livelihood.

The worst bottleneck was at the Litani, Lebanon's only major river – three hours of waiting on multiple meandering paths through banana and orange groves converging on a single lane dirt embankment built over culverts barely big enough to allow the river's flow during the dry season. It is the only way to cross without a long detour that itself faces the same problem farther upstream.

I decided not to wait in the car, and instead went down to the river to watch and take pictures. I got as far as a small undestroyed bridge over a tiny tributary of the river, and decided that it was as good a spot as any.

I was not mistaken. Young soldiers unfamiliar with their authority struggled to control frustrated drivers blocking traffic to gain a few precious feet of advantage. At one point an imam in black robes and turban emerged from his Mercedes to try to mediate a dispute, but even his authority made little difference. Most surreal was a young woman in a halter top walking her dog on a leash. Overlooking the chaos was a billboard for the Abou Dib Hotel, with an idyllic scene of resort luxury.

It was dark by the time we arrived in Tyre, where Ismail, a young Lebanese architect who was kind enough to take us in his car, suggested that we drop by the home of S, a dear friend of his. After some warm hospitality and conversation, partly to assess current conditions, we headed out again to the village of Siddiqine, which is the home of Maryam, a third member of our team. We had previously agreed to spend the night at her family home in the village.

The short drive into the low mountains took place in pitch blackness except for the headlights of the cars and the occasional generator-powered home. For all practical purposes, there was no electricity anywhere, which meant that the glow against the sky to the south could only have come from the bright lights of Israel, invisible in normal times.

The drive took us through Qana, site of the 1996 Israeli massacre of more than 100 civilians who had taken refuge in the UN compound, as well as the one less than two weeks ago that reportedly killed another 54. Soon we began to see destruction all around us within the short range of our headlights, and then the unmistakable stench of death permeated the air. At least two dead cows lay on the road, a small dehydrating calf next to one of them – a heartbreaking scene about which we could do nothing.

Unfortunately, Maryam's house was only 200 meters away, down a road made impassable with rubble. If we decided to stay, we would have to walk it with a single flashlight (mine) among us. Maryam's brother had negotiated the passage earlier in the day and determined that the house was relatively untouched. However, doing it at night was another matter, especially with the stench of the cows in our nostrils and earlier warnings of cluster bombs. We headed back to the house of S in Tyre, and accepted her hospitality for the night.

This morning we will head out to Siddiqine and some other villages to do a bit of factfinding so that we can report back to our group in Beirut what sort of civil resistance/solidarity project might be feasible to undertake. Who knows? Perhaps this will be the first day since my arrival without a single meeting to attend.

Paul Larudee

Meeting the Need/Needing the Meeting

2006-08-22T10:50:00.000-07:00

Beirut
13 August, 2006

As a solidarity volunteer, I expect to share the suffering of the Lebanese, but seven hours of meetings in one day seems a bit much. I deferred on the committee meeting and will return soon for another at 10:00 p.m. I am awed by the stamina of the Lebanese people.

Our neighbors to the south provided a brief interlude during the second afternoon meeting with an unusually intense bombardment of the southern Beirut suburb of Haret Hreik, shown live on the projection television screen at Thé Marbuta, an as-yet-unopened café in the Pavillon Hotel building now serving as the center of Samidoun, a coalition of Lebanese civilian volunteer organizations formed to deal with a fraction of the million refugees of the Lebanese nakba (catastrophe). We speculate that Israel was using the new gifts from its American uncle, bunker busters that shook the ground even several kilometers away. A good Geiger counter to measure inhaleable uranium dust should be able to determine whether we are right.

If so, it probably marks a desperate effort to assassinate Hassan Nasrullah, the Hezbollah leader, before the ceasefire supposedly goes into effect at seven o'clock tomorrow morning local time. If they succeed, there will obviously be no ceasefire, which is probably what they have in mind. If not, they will have to find another way to sabotage it, but probably not before it already begins. They are very resourceful.

One of the jobs of the committee that is meeting as I write this is to explore the possibility of going south after the ceasefire takes effect but before the international forces arrive. I think it's an ideal time to confront the Israeli military directly with a civilian action aimed at being in the way, returning Lebanese civilians to the south, and bringing relief supplies to the population that never left. During that time, Israel will have committed itself to refrain from military action, so it becomes possible to become a nonviolent pain in the butt, something in which the ISM specializes. We would have to be sure that we're not in the way of armed resistance forces, because that would be dangerous, and we never place ourselves directly between parties engaged in combat. The decision rests with our Lebanese colleagues, but I'm crossing my fingers.

I can't say that I'm optimistic about having a quiet night. I'm sure Israel will try to get in its last licks before the ceasefire is due to start. Still, it will be easier for me than for those who are more directly exposed.

Have to head back for the meeting. I try to sleep in between, but sometimes it's easier to succumb during.

Paul

The Mobilization of Civil Resistance in Lebanon

2006-08-22T10:43:00.001-07:00

Beirut
August 12, 2006

At 8:00 this morning in Beirut's Martyr's Square, commemorating the deaths of 33 Lebanese patriots in 1916, the doubts about a Lebanese civil resistance movement against Israel's invasion of the south were swept away. Only twenty-four hours earlier, the organizers could assure only six cars, no gasoline and an uncertain number of volunteers. Should we cancel? Change the objective? Postpone? After yet another difficult meeting we decided to plunge ahead, with several contingency plans.

This morning, however, we found ourselves with 52 vehicles, two to four volunteers per vehicle and a press corps swarming all around us. Each car sported a large Lebanese flag on its roof and was loaded with relief supplies for residents still in the town of Nabatiyya in south Lebanon after a million of their citizens had been put to flight by Israel's policy of depopulating the region. After interviews and car assignments, the convoy headed through the pride of Beirut's historic downtown business district - the section destroyed in Lebanon's civil war but recently restored with care to its former glory.

The line of vehicles made its way deliberately through the city, pausing occasionally to let stragglers catch up. "What is this?" asked bystanders. "Where are you going?"

"To Nabatiyya." replied the volunteers with pride. "We are a civil resistance campaign asserting our right to be in our lands."

The faces of the onlookers beamed in return as they shouted "God speed," touched their hands to their heads, lips or hearts and passed their blessings our way with a gesture.

South we went, first on the superhighway and then on the older coastal road where we encountered the first of many bridges blasted with impunity by Israeli military might during the last month.

Passing through the coastal villages, we had not gotten far before we came upon a Lebanese military checkpoint. They stopped us and refused to let us pass, saying that it was not safe. We disputed their assessment, pointing out that we were the only vehicles being stopped and that there was plenty of traffic in both directions. With some difficulty, we located a higher official of the Ministry of Interior in order to appeal the order, but he refused to change it. We considered several other alternatives, including removing the markings on the cars, getting past the checkpoint and reforming, or doing a sitdown strike in the road. However, our goal was not confrontation with the Lebanese authorities and Lebanese unity was one of the important principles of our action.

In the end, therefore, we gathered at the Ramlet al-Baida ("White Sands") beach and decided to try to make another opportunity for ourselves as soon as possible on a different day. We then moved the meeting to our staging center for a self-evaluation session. At that meeting we agreed that although it was a big disappointment not to achieve our intended objective, our success in proving the interest and viability of a Lebanese civil resistance movement should not be lost because of external circumstances that no one had foreseen. The group will therefore be holding strategy sessions in the coming days to plan the next move.

Don't count on this group to disappear. Lebanese civil resistance took an important step today.

Paul Larudee
ISM volunteer in Lebanon

The Land of Milk

2006-08-22T04:36:00.000-07:00

The Land of Milk

The name Lebanon literally means “the land of milk”. It is one of the names given to a mythical earthly paradise in ancient times, usually located in one's neighbor's land, which typically (along with the assumption that your neighbors are barbarians and therefore a lower life form) justified the conquest of said neighbor.

Of course, such justification is no longer permitted today under the Geneva conventions. Merely coveting one’s neighbor’s land is not enough, even if your neighbors are barbarians unworthy of life itself. Today we use word “terrorist” instead of barbarian, but even terrorists have rights, at least until John Woo, Donald Rumsfeld and Alberto Gonzales get their way with international law. A “terrorist threat” is therefore required as a security pretext for Israel to take land that it and its founders have coveted since at least 1918-19, when Cahim Weizman and David Ben Gurion first described Lebanon’s Litani river as Israel’s future “natural” border to the north.

Yesterday the original meaning of Lebanon’s name came to mind as I sat on the transmission housing of a shared taxi for five hours on the way to Beirut from Damascus airport, watching the relatively barren Syrian countryside, which contrasts with Lebanon’s mountainous beauty and verdant hillsides. The tour was necessitated because the only remaining route into Lebanon was the longest possible one; all the rest had been closed by Israel’s bombing of the bridges. This one had no major bridges, so even if it is bombed, a rough detour is probably still possible.

I didn’t have to wait long to see Israel’s handiwork. At Qaa, within a few kilometers of the border crossing, was a destroyed vegetable distribution center that Israel had attacked the same morning, claiming that it was a munitions depot. At least twenty people died to prove them wrong. It was Israel’s farthest strike north; any farther is geographically almost impossible.

Israel’s statement that no place is safe found further evidence on the main highway south, where four bombed-out bridges required us to divert to the older coastal highway. It’s a scenic route, but what could be the purpose of destroying the infrastructure in the largely Christian areas, where Israel was the silent partner of some of the parties in the Lebanese civil war? Perhaps it is Israel’s way of punishing them for showing solidarity this time with those resisting Israel’s invasion of the south, or perhaps it is just standard operating procedure to distribute as much misery as possible as widely as possible. It certainly would be consistent with Israeli actions in the Palestinian West Bank and Gaza Strip, and in Palestinian communities inside Jerusalem and Israel, although its creation of nearly a million Lebanese refugees seems more like the ethnic cleansing actions employed in 1948 to clear Palestinians from areas that became the Jewish state.

Today I will join a team of international volunteers recruited by Adam Shapiro, one of the co-founders of the International Solidarity Movement, and including his Palestinian wife Huwaida Arraf, Kathy Kelly (founder of Voices in the Wilderness) and other experienced nonviolent activists, who are in the midst of discussions with the local Lebanese committee of counterpart activists on nonviolent strategies that we will employ in the coming weeks and months to confront Israel’s occupation and to express the solidarity of many Americans and other peoples with the Lebanese and their rights, and to show that some of us oppose Israel’s actions enough to come here and do what we can to stop them.

Whether we use the ancient term “barbarism” or its modern equivalent "terrorism" we recognize that it is just the latest form of racism to justify taking the "land of milk" from its people, who are portrayed as savages for defending their land and way of life. We hope that we may be able to change perceptions and demonstrate in person that our fate is bound directly to that of the citizens of Lebanon, and that our best protection is the protection of the rights of everyone.

"Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere." -Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Paul Larudee
From Beirut, Lebanon
August 5, 2006

Detention Diary

2006-07-10T00:43:00.000-07:00

Detention Diary

[During my detention, I kept a diary, herewith transcribed with some editing, adding info that I preferred not to record in case of seizure, and removing or summarizing the less interesting passages.]

Wed., June 7

I started to write something two days ago on my PDA, but it was taken away from me (see below), and I was denied the use of pen and paper until late yesterday. I can only imagine the phone calls and requests that allowed me to have my pen restored, and I thank all who made it possible. My first priority was to write an op-ed, which I completed late last night. I can therefore devote my attention to bringing you up to date since my arrival:

Mon., June 5

The plane from Amman touched down at 11:00 p.m. last night, and even before leaving the aircraft I called my local support person to announce my arrival and to suggest calling me back every hour until I left the airport to make sure everything is OK. By prior arrangement, my U.S. support person also reached me before I got to passport control, and we adopted the same procedure.

At passport control, the officer seemed to have the most trouble with my length of stay. Up to a month seems routine, as in my previous visits, but 2-3 months seemed to invite further inquiry. I told them quite honestly that I was exploring business options that might enable me to spend up to three months each year. It would have been hard to avoid saying this, because my luggage was full of the tools and supplies for my project. There's also the fact that I was born in Iran, but I've always been able to explain that on previous visits. [In retrospect, they appear to have flagged my passport number.]

This time was different, however, not just a few questions to clear things up. My policy was to always respond with the truth, but only enough information to answer the question and hopefully allow me through with minimal delay. In this case, however, the hours wore on, and they repeatedly came back with more questions, returned to their office (presumably to check the info), and then more questions.

Eventually, we collected my bags and went to a room that had high-tech x-ray and chemical sniffer devices, but mostly they checked every item in my bags individually by hand, squeezing the toothpaste and testing nearly everything for chemical residue. They found my piano tools particularly intriguing. There was also a body search, very careful but not a cavity probe, which I told them I would not permit (and they said they had no intention of doing).

Next came the "conversation" with "Dani" from the security services. In retrospect, his job was first to verify the info already gathered without revealing how much he already knew. I realized that by this time it would have been easy for him to have found my business website, the articles that I had written and ones that had been written about me, just by using a Google search engine.

The next phase appears to have been to try to tempt me into giving false information in order to make my expulsion easier. Did I know the International Solidarity Movement? Oh, yes! A wonderful group dedicated to nonviolent resistance in the tradition of Gandhi and MLK. Was I a member? There's no such thing, but I consider myself quite active.

The final phase was to probe for information about the ISM, its "leadership" and other participants. We started with info available from the ISM website and public sources, but when he started to ask about other individuals, I responded that I was not comfortable with answering such questions. It was apparant at some point that "Dani" had used information supplied by Lee Kaplan, so I made sure to point out as many as possible of Lee's errors and to suggest that he is not well regarded in professional journalistic circles.

The interrogation was cordial. You know me. I try to exude charm and enthusiasm, and adverse circumstances bring this out in me even more. I feel the need to win people over, even when it's absurd to think I can. This case was no exception, but the result was a relatively friendly encounter, with the sense that whatever I do is out of the best of intentions, with caring and understanding for both Israelis and Palestinians.

There came a point when the interrogation phase clearly ended, and he apparently felt compelled to open a political discussion that was typical of so many that I have had with those who perceive Israel's actions as "preemptive defense" rather than aggressive expansion and ethnic cleansing. As expected, he concluded that I am naive and being used to serve purposes that are more sinister than I perceive. I responded that he was naive if he thought that Israel's policies would bring peace or even security, and that his loyalty to Israel and the "necessary" services that he performs for the state are in fact being used to serve purposes that are more sinister than he perceives. I invited him to come to some of our actions as a participant rather than an intelligence officer and to see how Palestinians view their own situation.
He said that he thought I was a nice person and would inform Immigration accordingly, and that the final decision would be in their hands. I said that I thought his recommendation plus ten shekels might get me a latte in some places. Perhaps I underestimated the price.

Back at Passport Control it was another two hours before Immigration announced their decision. As expected, I was denied entry, without explanation. I advised them that I intended to appeal the decision. I and my belongings were then transported to the detention facility. I was able to keep in touch via mobile phone with my contacts during this time, so they knew what was happening. No one seemed to object to me using and charging my phone.

The facility is spartan but more comfortable than most ISM apartments (sorry). If they would give out keys with the rooms, it wouldn't be half bad. They allowed me the use of my mobile phone and PDA, and in fact my entire carry-on after removing my camera. They also announced that I would be placed on a 6:00 p.m. flight to Amman, forcibly, if necessary.

A lot of you probably already know a lot of what happened next, thanks to reports from the ISM and my friends here and in the U.S. However, I can perhaps provide a few details.

First, I met with my lawyer, Gabi Lasky in the early afternoon and she tried to get an injunction to prevent my deportation after our meeting. Unfortunately, she was unable to do that in time, so I determined to delay my departure. Based on the experience of others, I decided not to bother resisting until I got to the aircraft, so as to minimize the opportunities for rough treatment. As we entered the airport, I spoke to the guard on the van with me.

"You know that I work with a nonviolent resistance group?" (He didn't.) The reason I'm telling you this is that I'm going to cause some trouble for you, and I'm sorry for the possible inconvenience or frustration, but I want to assure you that I will never use violence or try to harm you in any way.

"I plan to resist being placed on the aircraft, and will not go under my own power. You will have to carry me to put me on the plane. If you get me on the plane, I will not cooperate with the pilot and crew. I will not fasten my seatbelt, stow my table or sit in my seat. If necessary to prevent the aircraft from leaving, I will remove items from the overhead bins and take off all my clothes. However, under no circumstances will I do anything to harm the crew or passengers on the aircraft."

Why would you do this?" he asked.

"Because I want to appeal the decision of the immigration authorities."

We arrived at the aircraft and he spoke with the other security personnel and the aircraft crew. He then came back and said, "OK, you have to get out now and go to the plane."

Not wanting to risk injury while being pulled out of the van, I got out, but promptly sat on the tarmac and refused to budge. Speaking in Hebrew amongst themselves, they seemed to debate what to do with me, and eventually some of the more senior officers tried to convince me that if I was cooperative it would increase my chances of being able to return, and that in any case I could appeal my case without being present.
I told them that I was sorry for the extra work it might cause them and I knew they had their orders and a job to perform, but that I was not going to go willingly. More discussion in Hebrew, and then the driver of the van came over to pick me up by the shoulders while the guard grabbed my legs.

I allowed my body to go limp. The two were then joined by several others, each propping up some portion of my sagging body. (Not difficult to sag when you're my age.) They got me to the narrow steps of the small aircraft that shuttles to Amman, where they bogged down for lack of room for the bearers on the stairs. My left leg dropped to the steps and the procession ground to a halt.

All of this was taking place in front of presumably appalled passengers for the flight, who had at some point arrived in the shuttle bus. A little more discussion in Hebrew, then everyone stepped back and the young guard said, "Paul, go back to the van and wait there." I grabbed my carry-on, which someone had brought, and headed back to the van under my own power while they deliberated further out of earshot. Finally, the young guard came back and said, "OK, you got what you want." (Was he smiling ever so slightly?) I apologized again for the inconvenience, but added, "Do you see the power of nonviolence?" Back at the detention center I heard him describing what happened to a colleague. I don't speak Hebrew, but I heard him use the English phrase "very classy", and thanked him. All in all, it went very smoothly.

Of course, the conditions of my detention changed immediately. No more carry-on, mobile phone or PDA. Not even books, pen or paper. My medicine, razor and other necessities would be by request only, and under supervision. Back to my room, now even more spartan than before.

In the short term, the situation was fine with me. I desperately needed to sleep, having had only three hours the night before my departure from the U.S. and almost none since. I crashed on the bed, awoke for dinner and then back to bed.
Before I closed my eyes, however, the guard came by and announced that they would have to put me in a cell with another detainee because they needed my cell for a woman detainee. I gathered my meager possessions and moved next door.

My new roommate turned out to be a 67-year-old Palestinian who had lived for many years in the San Francisco Bay Area, and whose home was now in Sacramento. His family was split between his home in the U.S. and the one in Palestine, in a village near Bil'in. Despite my fatigue, we spent the next few hours swapping stories and talking politics, although I was mindful of the possibility of listening devices. Finally, shortly before midnight, I begged indulgence and went to sleep.

Tuesday, June 6

At 4:00 in the morning there was a loud banging on the door of my cell, which then opened. "Are you Paul? Come with me! You're going home!" bellowed the big man authoritatively. He took me to his office, which was that of the senior officer of the detention facility. He was either angry or doing a good job of pretending to be.

He told me that if I didn't agree to leave, I would be forcibly placed on a flight at 12:00 noon, that Jordanian police would be waiting on the flight, that they would shackle me to my seat and that they might use forms of brutality that he couldn't even predict. He was holding a video camera and viewing some previous footage that he said would illustrate what it would be like. After viewing it by himself for awhile, he changed his mind and said, "No, I'm not going to show it to you."

He then proceded to rant that his only purpose was to assure me that one way or another I would be on the 2:00 flight (didn't he just say 12:00?). Whether I agreed or disagreed, it didn't matter, because I could either make it difficult or easy for myself. He also complained that his own staff was not following orders about how to deal with me, but I had no idea what this might have been about.

Finally, he asked me if I understood what time I would be placed on the flight. I responded that I had no idea. It sounded like the whole thing had been fabricated to intimidate me, and that he couldn't even remember what time he had made up. In any case, the whole thing seemed rather superfluous even if true, since he had supposedly made up his mind about what to do and didn't need my blessing, so what was the point of waking me up in the middle of the night?

Taken back to the room, I discovered that my roommate, Mohammed, had been moved. I could only speculate that this was the reason I had been temporarily removed and that perhaps the commander's complaint about his men was that I was supposed to be deprived of all contact, even with other detainees. From my own point of view, I enjoyed being with Mohammed, but it was a trade-off against the privacy and quiet of a single room - a viewpoint apparently lost on my jailers. A bit later, Mohammed returned under guard to get an item that he had left behind, which he retrieved in total silence, having apparently been warned not to open his mouth during the procedure.

At around 11:00 a.m. I was allowed to receive a phone call from my lawyer, Gaby at the main desk. She told me that the court had finally issued the injunction against my expulsion, and had given the Interior Ministry two days to explain its action. No further action could be expected on my case until Thursday. Still deprived of my cell phone, calls came in for me at the desk. Three came in that day, to the annoyance of the shift supervisor. Little by little, a few of my possessions started to creep back in, as well, first a small book of traveler's Hebrew, then a few toiletry items.

The big one, however, was my pen, for which I probably have to thank friends and supporters calling in, Gaby Lasky and especially Eve Zuckerman of American Citizen Services at the U.S. Embassy, which was also apparently getting a lot of calls. Toward the end of the day, they collected me from my cell and told me to get the pen from my baggage. I asked them for some paper, so they handed me a few sheets of copy paper.

That set up my agenda for the evening. I finally finished a 700-word op-ed just before midnight and hit the sack wondering how I was going to get it out. [See http://www.insidebayarea.com/search/ci_3949475.]

Wed., June 7

I spent the morning hand washing laundry, doing exercises and copying the rough op-ed from the night before. Not knowing what to expect, I made a couple of extra copies in fine print on small pieces of paper in case of an opportunity to smuggle it out. I also enclosed one of the copies in the small plastic bag that holds the plastic utensils for the meals and buried it in my Metamucil. Then, I squirreled away a pen and some paper in a place I defy anyone to find, as a hedge against future adversity. I also started this diary.

Given the number of calls at the main desk yesterday, I was surprised not to have any this morning. Finally, I was allowed to take a call in the afternoon from Eve Zuckerman at the Embassy. She reported that she was receiving calls from people complaining that they had called the detention center but were not being allowed to talk to me. That confirmed my suspicions, and of course they preferred to let me think that no one was calling rather than that they were not allowing me to take the calls.

Eve asked if she could convey any message from me. I said I had written a piece that I wanted to send to my friends and had been planning to ask someone to record my reading of it, for playback and transcription. Was there any way she could help with that? She seemed ready to do what she could, but her office lacked the recording equipment. She asked the detention center superviser if he would be willing to send it by fax, but he refused.

Later that afternoon, my lawyer Gaby Lasky called to check on me and told me that the Jerusalem Post had published a piece reporting that one of the reasons I was being refused entry was a piece I had written in 2002, (published later in "Peace Under Fire"), called "Sleeping in the Bed of a Suicide Bomber". I immediately wrote a reply and now found myself with two pieces for publication and no idea how to get them out.

No sooner had I completed the letter to the Jerusalem Post than the door to my cell opened and the guard told me that due to a large influx of detainees I would have to move to another shared room. It was larger, with three bunk beds instead of two. My new roommates were a Sri Lankan, a Thai and two Palestinians coming from the U.S. on U.S. passports. The Sri Lankan was a Tamil seeking (and denied) asylum, who would be faced with terrible choices upon return. Apparently, Israel is not sympathetic to asylum. The Thai was an out-of-status chef who was deported within hours, to be replaced by a third Palestinian-American. We all started swapping stories, jokes and frustrations in English and Arabic. It almost felt like Ramallah.

One of the Palestinians was a middle-aged man named Asaad from Florida. Like many others in the detention center, he was being told that he could not go to the West Bank through the airport. Israel considered him Palestinian, not American, and he would have to use the servant's entrance, i.e. Jordan. He learned that my previous roommate, Mohammed, had succeeded in getting to the West Bank, probably by posting a large bond. That would be his strategy, as well.

A young Palestinian Katrina refugee named Ayham from New Orleans had slugged an impolite Israeli security officer for pushing him at the airport. He expected to be sent back within the hour, but was given a reprieve by the intervention of a lawyer who had come for another family. (Anyone without a lawyer was pretty much out of luck.) The third Palestinian, from Seattle, decided to accept deportation back to the U.S. on an early morning flight. We all shared my insect repellant and finally went to sleep before midnight.

Thu., June 8

The man from Seattle was taken to his flight before dawn, and I settled down to copy over my letter to the Jerusalem Post. Must be something about writing that letter, because as soon as I finished it, I was immediately called to move again, this time back to "solitary confinement" in my previous room, now vacated by the group of women who had been there. On the way out, I let the copy of the letter slide off the table and onto the bed so that Asaad can smuggle it and my op-ed out if he leaves soon. We already exchanged contact information.

The guard told me that quite a few calls had been coming in for me, including journalists, but that all had been refused because my only right was to talk to my lawyer and my embassy. "All right," I said, "let me talk to my embassy."

"No you can't talk whenever you want. You really only get one call." Apparently the amount of support irritated them and they decided to get stricter. The embassy was now being told that they had no right to talk to me, although I still had the right to a visit. "So I want to ask them to visit me," I said.

"We will make the call and inform them of your wish." That was fine with me.
No news by lunch time, so I asked again. At 2:00, they allowed a call from Eve at the embassy, despite their previous statements. She reported that the Consul turned down my request for a visit, which is reserved for arrestees, not detainees. Since I have the option of allowing myself to be deported at any time, that courtesy does not extend to me. That sounds more like what I was expecting.

Back in "my" room, the women had left a pile of meal trays and four untouched small salads. That was good, because I'm eating too many carbs for my diabetes and no matter how much I ask, they don't seem to get the message about my dietary needs. They seem willing enough, but they end up bringing me salads of corn and beets instead of greens. The lower echelon guards here are all pretty OK. They're mostly polite and even sympathetic, trying to make the best of the situation. Once you start going up the chain of command, however, it seems to be a different story. We all know that when you get to the head of state you're in really nasty territory.

I started a routine of testing my blood sugar more regularly. They don't allow the equipment in the room, so this means getting permission to do it in the corridor under supervision.

I probably have less knowledge than anyone of what is happening around my case, but I know that my treatment is very different from that of all the other detainees, who have more or less the same priviledges that I did before I resisted going on the plane. The supervisors keep saying that I don't deserve special treatment, but then treat me differently anyway. I guess their main priority is to keep me away from the press and incommunicado as much as possible. My priority therefore has to be just the opposite. I have some ideas for smuggling in my phone tomorrow.

I also suspect that this is becoming a tug of war in which the bigger players are thinking in terms of winning and losing, not finding a mutually satisfactory solution. Not a good sign. Eve told me that the Interior Ministry had reported back to the court that the rejection of my visa request was based on "security reasons" and confidential information. Of course that's what we should expect. Even if the secret information is that I was observed spitting gum on the street, it is to their advantage to keep everyone guessing, including me. (If I placed the state of Israel in danger, you would think I might know where, when and how, but it's a mystery that I will probably never solve.) It's the job of the court not to fall for this nonsense, but it's rare that courts defy cops in any country.

Friday, June 9

I wonder to what extent the cells are wired. The guard dropped by this morning to ask me not to touch the grate outside the window. Apparently it sets off an alarm, which got on their nerves. I wonder about video cameras and microphones. There are two smoke detectors in this rather small cell and another in the bathroom. Why so many? On the other hand, their combined vantage points take in almost everything in the room. Also, I got transferred back to this cell right after a discussion about trying to get another detainee's mobile phone to work, which makes me wonder if they heard what I said.

Well perhaps not. I tested the theory twice this morning by pretending to have smuggled in a cell phone and to use it to talk to my contacts. I was either a very bad actor or the surveillance is not as great as I suspected, or perhaps they were too busy to monitor. In any case, no reaction.

I just succeeded in smuggling in my cell phone and used it to make and receive some quick calls with my contacts, including one that my support person used to quickly record me dictating my op-ed and a letter to the Jerusalem Post. He's going to have it transcribed, edited and then hopefully published I used my visits to my blood testing equipment to get the phone. The procedure is now routine enough that they don't pay much attention to what I do. I just slipped the phone down my crotch (sorry). My Ex Officio desert wear pants have webbing in lieu of underwear, and catch the phone perfectly. They are also baggy enough that the phone doesn't show, although I suppose it could be taken for manhood (sorry again). I'm leaving it there even in my cell, in case they suddenly burst in saying "Where's your phone?" and make me wait in the corridor while they search the room.

Surprise! The U.S. Consul, Richard Greer and Eve Zuckerman from American Citizen Services came to visit today and brought some reading and writing material. They asked how I was being treated, my health, etc., and we talked about the asshole who threatened me Tuesday morning, who suddenly became much more accommodating when they arrived. The visit itself was much more important than the subjects covered, and it looks like my conditions might improve slightly (or at least not get worse) as a result. My guess is that they got enough calls nagging them that they felt to change their minds about visiting.

Gabi called, too, and they allowed me to take it at the front desk. She says that the judge now made the two-day deportation injunction indefinite, pending a hearing, and requested an early court date. That means I'll be here another week, at least, and probably longer, although whether they keep me at this facility or transfer me is another matter.

I had my first cigarette in 20 years just to be able to sit with the group that is permitted outside their cells to smoke. For them it's hard because they have nicotine fits waiting, but for me it's a rare opportunity for social interaction and perhaps to find out more about what's happening in the facility. I didn't have much chance to talk with Asaad this time because he was busy with his lawyer, but had a nice chat with one of the guards, Gadi. He was mildly interested to learn more about the ISM and I think he came out somewhat sympathetic to our motives, if nothing else, although he he thinks we are wasting our time. He said he thought it was not good to mix politics with humanitarian work. I said I agreed; that's why we stick to politics. We both laughed.

Shabbat started at sundown and it looks like a weekend shift of guards - faces that I haven't seen before. My blood sugar level was at 154 at 11:00. Too much bread and rice and not enough exercise, although I'm doing an hour regime each morning. Dror, the supervisor of security, was kind enough to bring extra salads for lunch, but two of them were beets and corn, both high carb. They try but have no clue. I'm losing weight, which is good, and the readings are not really dangerous, but if they remain higher than I like, I'll ask for a doctor and get her to prescribe a special diet.

Saturday, June 9

I guess I should describe my surroundings and routine. My room faces east, with a large double-pane window that pivots inward on the left hinges or can be set to pivot on the bottom and open slightly at the top. It is tinted and has blinds between the two panes that can be raised or lowered. A fairly elaborate system.

The summer sun shines directly in the room from about 6:00-7:00 a.m. while the temperature is still cool. Great time to take off my shirt and enjoy it before it gets lost in the trees above. It's quiet and the birds are usually the loudest sounds at that time, even though there's noise from the Tel Aviv-Jerusalem highway which is only a few hundred yards away.. A pair of pigeons resides in the tree just opposite and have a permanent water supply from the leaky water tank atop the small building below, which the staff use for some indeterminate purpose. Between that building and the main structure is a covered parking area to my left, and a couple of tables and chairs that the staff use to relax under the shade. After the sun hides behind the trees, I do my exercise routine and then start a new day in my diary, as I'm doing now.

Breakfast is usually at around 8:45 but sometimes gets delayed up to an hour or so. It and dinner consist of a sub sandwich of either egg, cheese, salami, turkey or avocado. Lunch comes around 12:45 (also sometimes delayed up to an hour) and is a hot meal of meat, rice and a vegetable, with a side salad and sometimes humus Israeli style, meaning heavy on the tahina. Dinner is usually 8:00-8:30.

After breakfast, I ask to leave the room to take my meds, which are not allowed in the room. After meds, I do daily toiletries, including shaving, brushing, etc. I seem to be taking a shower and washing my clothes every other day. When I had to change rooms the other day, I had to take my wet clothes with me and hang them in the other room. It's then time for me to turn on my phone and receive my daily phone call. I do this in the bathroom to be on the safe side. Still haven't found a way to charge the phone, and there's not much battery left. I had been hoping to transfer the SIM card to a phone with a longer lasting battery in Ramallah, but for the time being I'm stuck with this.

At 10:30, it's time for another trip out of the room to test my blood sugar. I then read or write. When reading and writing materials were forbidden, a guard let me have a small traveler's Hebrew book that I had brought, which I used to pass the time trying to learn some Hebrew. After lunch it's much the same, although I usually have a nap, as well, and after dinner more of the same. There's satellite TV in the room, but I haven't tried to use it.

The air conditioning is much too cold, so I ask the guards to keep it off all the time. There's enough cold air in the conduits to keep things comfortable for me in my desert clothes. I leave the window open all day, but close it as the sun goes down to stave off the mosquitos. The room manages to stay comfortable and mosquito free.

Great plan, but totally disrupted today with another influx of women detainees. This time I was taken to the largest cell (eight beds) before lunch. It's the corner cell next to the office and has a view from two sides of the building. My cellmates are a Chinese, a Ghanan and a Sierra Leonean. The Chinese speaks only Chinese and Hebrew, but I get his story from the other guys. He has been in Israel 6 years, has made the money he wanted to and has deliberately put himself out of status in order to get a free ticket home for good. The young Ghanan, Jeff, ended up on his own here after his mother was deported. He's willing to go back, but not before his embassy locates his mother in Ghana so that he doesn't land there with no place to go. Aba, the Sierra Leonean, was a refugee who was allowed asylum until the war there ended. He's afraid that some people might be a threat to him there, but he has little choice.

It turns out that all three have mobile phones and that the guards allow them to string their chargers into the cell from outlets outside the door! I use the occasion to make a quick phone call and give the numbers to my contacts. Soon the calls start coming in, including an interview with No'am Ben Ze'ev at Ha'aretz newspaper. I was planning to get my phone at the next opportunity and have one of the guys charge it for me, but before I could I was transferred back to "my" cell. I wonder how many calls came in to those guys after I left. One of my callers told me about the Israeli assassinations of Hamas leaders in Gaza and the end of the Hamas truce. It doesn't pay to think that things can't get worse.

Actually, they briefly tried to transfer me to a cell at the opposite corner before bringing me back here. I guess they thought it was empty, but it turned out there was a woman in there. We both were surprised when I walked in. That means that I have now been inside every cell on this floor, which are the only ones in use. In terms of bunk beds, there are three with two (= 4 beds), two with three and one with four. One of the rooms is usually for storage of luggage, but when things get busy the luggage ends up all over the stairs and corridors.

The cell next door, where I had earlier been placed with Asaad and the other Palestinians, is now inhabited by a Palestinian family with jetlagged young children screaming and banging on the walls at 3:00 a.m. The soundproofing is actually pretty good, but my circadian rhythm is still off, so I hear them when I wake up in the night.
[I edited the third paragraph of part five as shown below. As I stated in the intro to the diary, there are certain things that I didn't feel comfortable writing in the original, in case it got seized. When I put it all together, I will need to do some more additions, but this one, about the way I got my op-ed out, is important enough to give to you now:

I just succeeded in smuggling in my cell phone and used it to make and receive some quick calls with my contacts, including one that my support person used to quickly record me dictating my op-ed and a letter to the Jerusalem Post. He's going to have it transcribed, edited and then hopefully published I used my visits to my blood testing equipment to get the phone. The procedure is now routine enough that they don't pay much attention to what I do. I just slipped the phone down my crotch (sorry). My Ex Officio desert wear pants have webbing in lieu of underwear, and catch the phone perfectly. They are also baggy enough that the phone doesn't show, although I suppose it could be taken for manhood (sorry again). I'm leaving it there even in my cell, in case they suddenly burst in saying "Where's your phone?" and make me wait in the corridor while they search the room.]

Sunday, June 10

Had a strange dream last night that I was back in California working on pianos at the wrong address. I was supposed to be at a church or school but accidentally ended up at the JCRC [Jewish Community Relations Council, the main center of Israel support in the SF Bay Area]. They insisted on practicing a play before I finished tuning, then were trying to get people to buy condos in the West Bank settlements. They approached me but I told them I already owned a place built on ethnically cleansed land in California. For some odd reason it seemed that the whole thing took place while I was on furlough from the detention center.

No early sun today. The overcast quickly burned off, but not before the sun was already in the trees. The wind is ENE, so it might recondense over Nablus, where they occasionally get a cool summer sprinkle from such conditions. Great weather when it happens.

There's ISM graffiti on the underside of nearly every upper bunk in the place. Most of it is unsigned, but Andrew Muncie's is in the large room. I added mine to this room today. It reads, ISM is about:
justicenonviolencerespectcompassionprotection from harmbuilding trustresistance to oppression andsolidarity with the oppressed
for all persons, Palestinian and Israeli, oppressor and oppressed.Paul Larudee, June, 2006.

The chief officer who apparently thinks I'm a dangerous terrorist was giving a tour to some young people this morning and stopped at my cell, apparently to explain the special handling of my detention. I waived hello through the window and to my surprise he opened the door to show off his trophy. I grabbed his hand, shook it warmly and placed my hand on his shoulder and smiled like we were the best of friends. "Are these new trainees?" I asked.

"Chinese? Do they look Chinese?"

"No, trainees, are you training them?"

"Oh, yes. That's right."

"Well, how do you do? I'm pleased to meet you." They acknowledged the greeting, a bit befuddled by the situation.

"Is everything all right with you? Is your blood sugar OK? Do you need anything?"

"Thanks. Dror and Chaim and the others are doing their best to take care of me." You would have thought it was a suite at the Intercontinental. "Nice meeting you."

Later, guards Dror and Avi changed $100 for me today and are trying to get some more test strips for my glucose tester. Got to admit they really are making an effort. ... Just got called to the phone at the main desk, and it was Dorothy Naor asking for details about the strips. Incredibly, the same commander who was so cordial in front of the recruits got upset when I expressed delight at hearing her voice and engaged in the barest minimum of small talk. "She's a dear friend that I haven't seen for a long time," I explained.

"Just the information, no small talk!" he said. I held my hands out in bewilderment and looked at the other guards for an explanation. "What's his problem?"

"He has orders," they said. I think I may have embarrassed him earlier by not playing my role in front of the recruits. Perhaps I didn't look like a supporter of terrorism.

I fixed the toilet room door, which hasn't been able to close completely since I came here. Turned out to be simple, just a couple of loose bolts that turned themselves out. Of course I didn't have a screwdriver, but one of my luggage keys worked to get them in far enough to close the door. The lock's been mangled, so it won't lock, but at least the latch works.

Dorothy and Israel Naor appeared out of nowhere with a new test kit, some books and writing materials. At least I got to see them face to face, if only from a distance. They were at the security gate and I was at a second floor window, but we were able to shout to each other.

I guess I should have mentioned in my description of the place that the heavy steel doors have a window in them facing the corridor. There are no cells on the other side of the corridor, only an exterior wall with windows that permit me to see the other side of the building from my cell. That is where all the arrivals and departures take place, so I get to see a lot of the coming and going.

Monday, June 12

This marks a week that I've been here. That makes me a longtermer, since most of the detainees only stay a few days at most. I've slimmed down a bit and I'm starting to get in better shape with the exercise routine. The guard Gadi was right; I'm not going to get far studying Hebrew without a dictionary. Like Arabic, you have to know the vocabulary and grammar a bit to even figure out the correct vowels.

The supervisor Gabi came and asked if I was keeping a phone in the room. Someone obviously read the interview with No'am Ben Ze'ev in Ha'aretz. Of course I don't keep the phone here, and I didn't even use it for the interview.

I made a project out of creating a backgammon/chess/checker set for the kids next door, and some origami toys. Just for the fun of it, I think I figured out a way to bust out of here, although I can't imagine the benefit of doing that.

I'm fairly creative about killing time, but I feel like I should do more serious writing. The problem is that I have no news from outside and little or no opportunity to exchange ideas, so nothing to react to. It's like being on an extended camping trip in the middle of nowhere.

I haven't seen Asaad since yesterday, so I wonder if he got in, went to Jordan or went home. There's commotion almost every morning before dawn, because that's when a lot of the flights to Europe leave, so he may have been on one of them. There have been a lot of Palestinians coming and going, all with foreign passports. I don't get to talk much (or at all) with them, but the only one that I know got in was Mohammed.

Tuesday, June 13

Nothing much happened in the morning, but I wrote out arguments for my case, which turned into a kind of op-ed. Later, I edited it down to that kind of length and called it "Am I a Security Threat to Israel." It wasn't quite finished when my lawyer, Gaby, appeared. It seems they don't like me to know of a visit in advance, so that I have no opportunity to plan or prepare, and they have almost entirely cut off all calls, so that if Gaby wants to talk to me she has to come here.

She had very little news except that the court still has not set a date and that she dropped by the court to read the full response of the Interior Ministry to the judge's order to show why I am being refused entry. It seems that they're accusing me of working with terrorist groups, but that they are allowing the security services to make their decision for them, which according to Gaby is not permitted and may provide us with a legal argument. I read the draft of my op-ed to her to see if there was anything in it that could be used as a legal argument, and she offered some of what she had in mind.

After Gaby left, I returned to my cell and finished revising the op-ed. Soon thereafter, I got a new cellmate, a Romanian named George who speaks only Romanian and Hebrew. I asked him to speak Romanian to me because I at least stand a chance with a Romance language, but he insisted on using Hebrew, since that is what he is used to speaking to non-Romanians.

The good news is that he has a working mobile phone with a good battery, so I quickly placed a call to my contact who spread the word. I was soon connected to another recording device that permitted me to send the op-ed for transcription.

[See http://www.palsolidarity.org/main/2006/06/17/israeli-justice/ for the edited version. I would, however like to re-insert the last paragraph of the original, as follows:

"That Israeli state paranoia should motivate the sacrifice of civil liberties will surprise few who have tested the system. And to those who in ignorance of the persistent and pervasive Palestinian nonviolent movement continue to ask, "Where is the Palestinian Gadnhi," it is instructive to consider the lengths to which Israel will go to assure that dissent and nonviolent resistance are eliminated."]

It didn't take them long to move me to another cell (presumably to remove access to George's mobile phone), this time the very first one that I had been in, now inhabited by three Palestinian-American shebab [young men] whose combined age is only one year more than mine (61 and 60, respectively). One of them is Ayham, who was in the cell with me and Asaad last week and is still around, waiting for his case to be adjudicated. The other two are Nureddine (Nur) and Hassan, who is a diabetic like myself, and an asthmatic, as well. Nur keeps saying he's going crazy and asking why they won't let him go to his Mom's place in Beit Hanina to eat Maqlouba. Hassan is having problems with his asthma because he's coming from vacation in China where he was affected by the pollution and some overexertion.

Wednesday, June 14

It was freezing last night because the shebab insist on keeping the air conditioning on. They also leave the window open too late, which lets in some mosquitos, although the cold air discourages a lot of them. These guys came with jackets and sweatshirts, but I had to use two blankets.

My phone battery is almost dead, but I was able to receive a call at the prearranged time that told me that I now have a court date, and it's tomorrow! The shebab like to keep the television on all the time, but I can sleep anyway. Ayman's court date is going to be June 20. Nureddine's lawyer finally succeeded in establishing that Nur has the right to travel through Tel Aviv airport because his family is among those residents of Beit Hanina who are considered Jerusalem residents. In the other half of the town split by the wall, the inhabitants are considered West Bank residents and need permits to visit the other side of the village. If Nur's family had been from that side, he would have had to return to the U.S., then travel to Jordan and enter that way. As it is, he is not considered a resident himself, even though his family is. He therefore still has to prove that he is only coming for a visit before returning to school, and not intending to try to live there. Hassan has a similar problem, but his family are considered West Bank residents, so it may be more difficult for him.

I learn from the guys that Asaad was sent back to the U.S. early yesterday morning despite his lawyer's efforts. He never got to see his family, and the Israeli authorities didn't even allow him to go to Jordan, where he might have been able to bring his family from the West Bank for a short visit.

Hassan has been coughing a lot since yesterday, and I tried to impress upon the guards how dangerous that can be. They finally took him to the doctor at the airport, who gave him a strong antihistamine that seemed to help. There are two guards named Chaim, and the taller one managed to buy some test strips for the new tester that Dorothy bought me. It came with only ten strips, so I soon ran out, but Chaim got me fifty.

Thursday, June 15

Court date today, but the guards never let me know officially, so I can't let on that I heard in advance by unauthorized means. They came and only gave me a few minutes to get ready, but of course I was ready well before, and drafted a statement for release, as well, and wrote out an extra copy. It was great to get out and see some of the countryside and see some of Tel Aviv. It breaks the isolation a bit.

On the sixth floor of the courthouse with twenty minutes to spare, Dorothy spotted me and came up to give me a hug, then Israel, Elana, Tanya and others, a dozen or more. I met Adam Keller (Director, Gush Shalom) for the first time, as well, and he did the interpreting of the proceedings for me. I was astonished that my two guards (actually higher officers at the detention center) allowed so much interaction, but I guess they weren't expecting so much company and didn't know what to do. Folks brought stuff for me, too - more reading and writing materials, some additional sugar free Metamucil and some lunch with a big salad. I love them all.

Before the procedings started, I read my statement to the group (not the court), and Adam made about twenty copies for circulation. I'm not sure to what extent it got out, so here it is again, with some slight revisions:

"Israel Must Welcome Nonviolent Resistance

"The officials of the state of Israel who denied me entry on the basis of secret evidence and who continue to persecute the International Solidarity Movement and Palestinian nonviolent resistance may think of the us as troublemakers. We are. They think that such troublemaking is at odds with peacemaking. It is not.

"There is a big difference between causing trouble and causing harm, and it is in the nature of nonviolent resistance to cause trouble in order to prevent harm, not to inflict it. Nonviolent resistance is purposefully confrontational, but it applies the principles of respect, compassion and justice for all persons, Israeli and Palestinian, oppressor and oppressed.

"Nonviolent resisters like us act out of the conviction that our efforts may spare the tragedy and misery of the last 58 years of conflict from future generations of Palestinians and Israelis. We believe that the only viable resolution for the land of Palestine, including Israel, the West Bank, Gaza and Jerusalem, lies in integration, equality and sharing - not segregation, discrimination and conquest, with one people "here" and another "there". It is only when the full rights of all persons are respected that the inhabitants of this beloved land will know peace and reconciliation.

"Apologists for Israeli policies are fond of lamenting the lack of a Palestinian Gandhi, apparently unaware that Gandhi was a confrontational troublemaker and that thousands of Palestinians participate in nonviolent resistance actions planned and organized by Palestinian committees in homegrown Palestinian grassroots movements. If Israel chooses to treat these movements and the Israelis and international citizens who join in solidarity with them as if they were a mortal danger to its existence, it should come as no surprise if the victims of its repression resort to more violent means of expressing their grievances."

Gaby scolded me for not previously mentioning my association with Sindyana of Galilee. It shows that I was involved in legitimate commerce with Israel, importing Israeli products to the U.S. OK, Sindyanna is a group that aims to support Palestinian agriculture, but in terms of commerce it's kosher as far as its business activities are concerned. Luckily, Hadas Lahav of Sindyanna gave her a call. I talked to Hadas and thanked her, but I wish I could have seen her.

Gaby was great, pointing out how "respectable" I am, my intentions to engage in commercial activity and refuting the arguments that my ISM activities were in any way a threat to the Israeli state. However, the prosecution finally fell back on "secret" evidence that only the judge was allowed to see. She recessed for about 40 minutes to view it, then came back saying that the rest of the arguments were a waste of time. She mentioned that the Interior Ministry could consider conditional entry if it chose to do so, but it sounded like she was not going to push it. A hopeful sign, but probably a long shot. She said she would give her decision Sunday at 8:30 a.m. It's clearly all politically motivated even if some specious arguments are framed in terms of security.

Back at the detention center, Nur says that his father is coming to pick him up so that at last he will be able to go to Beit Hanina and eat maqlouba. I share the problem with charging my mobile phone, and Hassan says he thinks he can take care of it. I smuggle the charger into the cell at the next opportunity and at his next break for his blood test, he and the other two plug it into an outlet outside the room and string the cord under the door, with a chair and an ashtray covering it from view. If they spot it, Hassan will say it's his, what's the problem and point to the way the guards are letting others do it. We're nevertheless cautious to prevent the guards from seeing us use the phone.

Nur's father doesn't show up, so Nur calls and finds out that they say the Interior Ministry has approved his entry but that according to them the paper work is not yet complete. Nur is extremely disappointed that he will have to spend another night.
The guys have playing cards from their flights, but don't know any games to which more than one of them knows the rules. I teach them two-handed whist (in Arabic tarnib) and we from then on there's a game in progress most of the time.

After I express my frustration in language that these guys understand, Ayham lets me use his jacket so that I don't freeze. Seems like the weather in the upper bunks is a lot warmer, so he doesn't mind, even with the air conditioning on.
Friday, June 16
I used some harsh language last night to vent my frustration with the freezing temperature in the room, but Ayham just smiled and said, "OK, now you're talking our language." It's weird to hear him switch from baladi Arabic ("cheef halach") to a thick New Orleans 'hood dialect, although I suppose they're viewed comparably in their respective cultures. His family had a small market and suffered a half million in losses from hurricane Katrina, no insurance. When he first arrived, he complained about waiting four hours. Now he's scheduled for a June 20 court appearance and he's pretty much settled in. Next to me, he's been here the longest.

I have to admit that the guards are pretty patient with the shebab in the room with me. Everything is a crisis with them. They are constantly demanding a cigarette break, different food, adjustment of the air conditioning, etc. Nur is going crazy thinking that his family is going to pick him up within hours and take him to Beit Hanina to eat maqlouba. He's driving us crazy, as well.

Thanks the shebab's wheedling, the guards let us exercise in the yard late in the day, when the weather is cool. Nur practices some soccer with Dror, the security chief. Hassan jogs. I'm unable to, because I slightly strained my right foot, but I do calisthenics. Things have definitely loosened up some since my earlier conditions of confinement, but only because the rank and file have relaxed enforcement, not because the ones on top have given permission. I think they've decided that I'm a pretty lousy terrorist.

If, as expected, the court thinks otherwise, we need to plan what's next. Gaby says that we can file an appeal to the High Court, in which case I'll be here several weeks more. Otherwise I'll have to go to Jordan. I started the discussion today by phone with my colleagues, but we'll have to wait for the decision to know what kind of reaction to make.

Saturday, June 17

Hassan and I, the two diabetics, were permitted to exercise in the yard again this morning. This is partly because the supervisor today is Verit, a woman officer who is nice to us. She also got us some excellent salads for lunch so that we could cut down on our carb intake. The other guards don't like her that much because they say she's tough on them.

I tried to call my friends in Jordan today, but the connection was bad. I talked to Betty (my wife) instead, and she let them know that I might be there soon. It's amazing that the guards never say anything about the phone cord under the door. Earlier today, another Palestinian detainee in the last cell unplugged our charger so that he could plug in his own, and Hassan had to make an excuse to open the door and plug it back in.

The Palestinian family with the small children finally gave up and went back to the U.S. The kids were screaming from being closed in all the time with nothing to do, and the adults were going crazy along with them. They decided not to wait any more for their lawyer to try to plead their case. Another small victory for ethnic cleansing.

Sunday, June 18

Abu-el-Afieh and Dror took me to court again early this morning. I missed breakfast, and so I asked "Abu" if I could buy a ka'ki (sesame bun) from a vendor at the courthouse. It was a big one, so I offered to share, but neither he nor Dror accepted. The group of friends was smaller this time, because they knew that nothing much was going to happen. Still a real treat to be with them, a taste of what I was hoping to be able to continue for days and weeks.
The whole proceeding took less than 30 seconds, I think. The decision was announced, upholding denial of entry to me, the written decision was issued, and Judge Pilpel granted Gaby's motion to stay my departure for twenty-four hours to permit an appeal to the high court.

Outside the courtroom, Abu let me meet with Gaby and the rest of the group for about ten minutes to read the decision and discuss what to do. Gaby seems to feel that there are grounds for appeal in the decision, but whether it makes sense to do it is another matter. I don't mind staying longer if it helps prevent our volunteers from being turned away in the future, but that depends a lot upon the legal aspects of the case, so it needs further discussion.

Abu finally said that we had to get back to the detention center, but before we left I made a point of asking Gaby in front of him how we were going to continue the discussion and make arrangements for my departure. Since he was the one who had restricted my phone priviledges, I wanted Gaby and the group to be present for his response.

"You like to use your mobile in your room?" He asked.

"That would be great," I replied. It was his chance to appear magnanimous in front of everyone, which is what I was counting on. It also spares him the headache of giving me access to the desk phone. Of course it's only confirming what I am already doing, but at least I can now do it openly.

Back in my cell, the discussions go on for the rest of the day, and we finally reach consensus at around 9:00 p.m. It makes no sense for me to stay, because the appeal would have to be filed without proper time for research, whereas it can still be filed after my departure within the next two weeks. We therefore don't have to decide whether to file or not, but in either case I don't have to be here.

There's a midnight flight to Amman and I ask Chaim, the shift supervisor, if I can get on it. He confirms that I can and asks me to draft and sign a waiver of the 24-hour permission for me to stay. I then arrange my bags. One of the guards was interested in a Small Planet travel guide to Israel that I had, so I ask if I can leave it for him. They say no, it's forbidden. However, they allow me to leave behind a bunch of magazines and other materials that were given to me by the embassy and my friends, so I just leave it with them for "anyone" to take.

I then go back to the cell to wait to be taken to the aircraft. I say goodby to the guys, play a last game of whist and leave the cell phone with Hassan. They'll need it more than I will. I also give a last call to Betty to confirm arrangements to get to my friends' place after I arrive in Amman. I then ask Hassan to pass on a special message to Chaim the guard (vs. Chaim the supervisor). He's the one who took me in the van when they tried to force me on the plane and he's the one who carried most of my weight as part of that effort. We had had a conversation about my political activities earlier and he expressed surprise that I had so many Israeli friends.

"Do they all agree with your political views?" he asked.

"No, not at all."

"You mean some of them have opposite views?"

"Well perhaps not opposite, but different."

"Are your views as extreme as Uri Avnery's?"

"Actually, mine are probably more extreme." He could hardly imagine that, but he said that he considered himself a right-winger. I in turn found that hard to imagine, because he bore no resemblance to some of the settler types I had seen in the West Bank settlements, but we left it there.

During the two weeks of my detention, he and I had shared jokes and discussions, and he was always ready to help any of the detainees as much as he could to make things easier within the limits of the circumstances. All the detainees agreed that he was an excellent human being.

So I said to Hassan, "Tell Chaim about the book I left for him and remind him that I when he asked if I had any Israeli friends with opposite political views, I said I didn't. Tell him that I've changed my mind and that perhaps now I do." He said he would.
Soon it was time to leave, so we said our last goodby and I headed for the van. I was placed on the plane, but my passport was given to the pilot for safekeeping. I said goodby to Dror and the other Chaim and then made my way to my seat.

I had known that by taking the night flight I would miss the chance to catch a last glimpse of Ramallah, Jericho and whatever else of Palestine I might be able to see out the window other than indistinguishable lights, but it really didn't make sense to wait until the following evening. The flight was as hard as I imagined it would be, and probably much like those of my fellow detainees. Were forty years of visits to Palestine coming to an end for me?

[That is the end of my diary entries, but I think I'm going to try to write an epilogue as the last installment. I also will make an effort to download some totally forbidden photos that I took there, although I seem to be having serious problems doing that from the device I used to take them.]

Epilogue

When I landed in Jordan, the pilot delivered my passport to Jordanian security, who then questioned me for an hour (in Arabic, because they had no one at that hour who spoke much English) and asked me to report to security headquarters (Mokhabarat) the following day for more interrogation in English. It was all pretty routine stuff and nothing that wasn't already public or perhaps ancient history, such as when I first came to Jordan, etc. However, I suppose that my name will henceforth be flagged as a "person of interest" whenever I go through Jordanian passport control.

I also forgot to mention that I tried one last desperate ploy to remain in Israel. After returning from the court decision, the shift supervisor, Verit, was still on duty, so I asked her to marry me. I know Betty might have a problem with that, but Verit only smiled and said nothing, so I ended up on the flight anyway.

On a more serious note, the number of Palestinian foreign passport holders brought to the detention center during my stay was a real eye-opener, and only one that I know of was successful in being allowed to stay, but only with the help of a lawyer and a large bond, and perhaps a visa for a very limited time period. All the rest either didn't try, gave up or were ultimately unsuccessful and were shipped back where they came from. There was no pretense at treating them like other citizens of the U.S., Canada or other countries. In Jordan, I met two others in similar circumstances and the Jordan Times interviewed me about what I had witnessed.

This appears to be yet another measure designed to squeeze Palestinians out of their hoomeland. First, Israel makes sure that some members of a family lose the right to live there. Next, they make it impossible for them to visit, so that their family must leave to see them. Finally, they make family unification possible only outside Palestine. Families are perhaps the most powerful institution in Palestine, so when denial of jobs, education, health care, and even food and water fail to remove Palestinians from their land, family pressures are applied.

I cannot begin to thank all the network of friends and total strangers who helped to support me during my detention. If it is true that you don't know who your friends are until you need them, I am truly rich in friendship. I will probably never know the full extent of the support I received and the help in getting my messages out. I won't name most of you, but I want to especially thank my first line support persons in the U.S., Israel and the West Bank, and of course my lawyer Gabi Lasky. It was worth my incarceration just to meet her, and I hope she continues to be a devil's advocate. Adam Keller is another that I was pleased to meet for the first time, and yes, I have your phone number. There are so many more that I hope to see again and that I invite to keep in touch. I also want to thank my hosts in Amman, who are old friends and with whom it has been a pleasure to renew my relationship. Although at this writing I am a few days away from a speaking engagement and meetings in Lebanon, I would also like to thank my hosts there, as well.

I also want to thank the ISM Media Group and its partners, whose incredible work is so important in getting the Palestinian story to the public. They are a really dedicated and hardworking bunch who put in long hours to draft, polish and place stories for the press. They deserve huge credit for using my experience as a vehicle to let the U.S. and the world see a face of Israel that it might not otherwise know.

There is, however, one person who facilitated the efforts of the ISM Media Group and myself in unexpected ways, and to whom I reserve special thanks. Despite frequent inaccuracies of fact and unkind words, he has provided me and the ISM with more opportunities to reach public opinion and to embarrass the Israeli state than anyone else I can think of. I refer to Lee Kaplan, who considers himself our arch enemy. His tireless work has made it possible for me to publish more op-eds in the last few weeks than at any time in the past. I realize that some of my colleagues may be concerned about encouraging his efforts, but my own view is that if all of our opposition were like Lee Kaplan, the inhabitants of Palestine would today be living in freedom and equality, Lee included, if that is his wish.

Finally, let me say that I do not consider this the end of my dream to return to Palestine and start a piano service business there as well as work with the International Solidarity Movement. Where there is a will there is a way, and the ISM is about both. As a Palestinian-led movement, it embodies the Palestinian spirit of "sumud" or steadfastness. We are a contentious bunch of strong-willed and opinionated individuals, but we always seem to surmount our differences in order to work towards a just future by just means. As such, I believe that we are following a long tradition of nonviolent resistance of which we are only a recent manifestation.

The Palestinian cause is not a popular one, which is why cowardly politicians and press and even activist groups will continue to vilify or ignore those associated with it. Even the advocates for justice in Iraq, Darfur, Myanmar, Tibet and other regions have set Palestine to the side for fear that it will taint and undermine their efforts in those causes. However, nonviolent resistance in Palestine continues to welcome the participation and support of those who are not afraid to be condemned for their efforts and who find inspiration in the words of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. that "Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere." As long as such persons exist, I believe that Palestine will one day welcome all who wish to live there in freedom and equality.

Paul Larudee
Amman, Jordan
June 30, 2006