The following is a report on the Gaza Freedom March by Keren Batiyov, a participant in Ta'Anit Tzedek - Jewish Fast for Gaza.
Although I had intended to write missives while I was with the Gaza Freedom March (GFM), it just didn’t work out. I was too busy during the day and too tired at day’s end. Furthermore, I think I often need time to process things before writing about them, as opposed to writing while in the thick of everything. I woke up crying on the flight home, from Amman to JFK – I think that the impact of the week in Cairo protesting not being allowed to proceed to Gaza was finally catching up with me. Add to that the sordid conduct of governments and politicians (Israel, the US, Egypt, etc.) and there’s a lot about which to shed tears.
While I learned that the Egyptian government had decided that they were not going to allow us to enter Gaza before I left, I and others were hopeful that they would change their mind. Little did any of us know what lay in store.
Saturday, December 26
I kissed my daughter and my two cats goodbye and boarded a flight to Cairo to join with almost 1400 other participants from 43 countries who planned to enter Gaza to call for an end to the Israeli siege on Gaza, which a year after the bombing is still not much more than rubble. This became even more important due to the recent discovery that the Egyptian government is constructing a steel underground wall -the Wall of Death - to permanently destroy the 200+ tunnels that are used to get much-needed basic supplies from Egypt to Gaza, and to make impossible the construction of new ones. This wall, confirmed by the American embassy to Ali Abunimah (Palestinian American journalist and co-founder of Electronic Intifada) while we were in Cairo, is being funded by the US government, both monetarily and with technological support provided by the Army Corp of Engineers. Like the Israeli Wall, this wall is also being built inside the Gazan side of the border, not on the border itself. A year after the siege and only 42 trucks with building supplies have been permitted to enter Gaza. Add to that (i) the poverty due to the lack of basic necessities (for a couple articles about the goods that Israel will not allow into Gaza, see: http://www.wrmea.com/archives/May-June_2009/0905022.html and http://www.mezan.org/en/details.php?id=9242&ddname=&id_dept=9&p=center – also, note that food supplies are not allowed to go through the Rafah crossing on the Egyptian border – all foodstuffs must go through Israel, ensuring that most are confiscated and/or mysteriously disappear), (ii) the sharp rise in domestic violence due to unemployment, (iii) the lack of electricity (Israel controls the electrical power), (iv) the destruction by Israel of water and water sanitation systems, and (v) the imprisonment of 1.5 million Gazans (half of which are children), you have nothing more than an open air prison. Make no mistake the agenda of the Israeli government is genocide.
Sunday, December 27
On Saturday, at JFK airport where I boarded my overseas flight to Cairo, via Athens, it was a pleasant surprise to discover that the woman seated next to me, a veterinarian from Phoenix, AZ, was also headed to the GFM – we quickly bonded and became friends.
Julie, from Phoenix
Due to poor airline scheduling I had only 45 minutes to make my connection in Athens to Cairo and, of course, I didn’t make it – nor did my new friend and an inspiring young man from New York, also a participant in the GFM. Delta worked hard to get us on an Egypt Air flight and during the wait for that flight, the three of us shared our backgrounds, hopes and aspirations for the march, and much laughter.
We got through the Cairo airport without any problem, changed money, purchased local SIM cards for our phones, and hailed a taxi for our 40-minute ride to the area where hotels had been booked for the participants. I was surprised to see dense fog everywhere – I subsequently learned that this was not fog, but smog. In fact, GFM participants from Los Angeles said that the smog was much worse in Cairo than LA. The famous Nile River was soon visible because of brightly colored lights along the river and on boats (Falouccas) that can be rented to cruise the Nile.
Since we arrived so close to the hour that had been set for all participants were to meet in Tahrir Square, we had no time to go to our separate hotels and leave our luggage so we trudged through the streets with backpacks and suitcases in tow. In addition to what I would need for the week, I was carrying clothes to take to Gazans, as well as a bottle of Woodford whiskey and a good Merlot, both of which had been requested by my friend who has been in Gaza since November of 2008 (she arrived on one of the boats that broke the blockade). Before I left home, she cautioned me to wrap the alcohol in my intimate things because Hamas would be loathe to touch those items at the crossing into Rafah. Since the marchers didn’t make it in, I left those items with friends who hoped to enter Gaza at a later date.
The meeting in Tahrir Square was primarily an orientational one – because the Egyptian government bans the public meeting of more than 6 people at a time, we had all gathered in small groups, milling about until the meeting began. When we all came together, we also discovered that we were surrounded by many plainclothes police. We were informed at the meeting that the Egyptian government had refused to allow us to enter Gaza so we would all convene the next day at the UN building to stage a massive protest. Concurrently, representatives of the march would be meeting with the Egyptian and US embassies to try to persuade them to allow us to pass.
Monday, December 28
On Monday morning, almost 1400 people converged at the UN building. Within minutes, we were surrounded by lines of police (2-deep) with iron barricades and scores of plainclothes security agents (later there were even top brass in full regalia). It was completely non-violent, and we held the line against police who tried to move the barricades in so as to decrease the space we were occupying. For almost 10 hours we chanted slogans, sang, danced, meditated, and visited among ourselves. We also attempted to engage the policemen in basic conversation and many of us offered to share our lunches, water, and wet wipes (everything is dirty in Cairo) with them.
Overall, the police were friendly despite being there to “do their job.” Many evidenced, in small ways, their sympathy with our cause – one friend related to me that one of the policemen at a subsequent demonstration had tears in his eyes at having to be there in opposition to us. I was struck by the young age of these boys – many looked to be 17-19 years of age. I was told that being a policeman was a job that young men without much education could easily acquire – the pay was very low (their salary is equivalent to $40 per month) but they received one meal every day – and for those struggling to stay above abject poverty, anything will do.
Passers-by honked and gave thumbs up. Despite the intransigence of the Egyptian government, it was obvious that the Egyptian people supported us. Over the course of the week, many Egyptians asked me what I thought of Egypt, and Cairo – my response was always the same: “the Egyptian people are wonderful but I don’t like your government.” Every time, the response was a grin and “yes, we understand.”
Among the participants of the GFM was my good friend Hedy Epstein, an 85-year-old Jewish activist on the issue of justice for the Palestinians, and a Holocaust survivor whose parents were able to get her out of Germany on the Kinder Transport.
Hedy
She and a number of other participants staged a hunger strike for the duration of the week in Cairo. Hedy is an extraordinary woman and has more energy then many young people – despite being sleep and food-deprived, she always looked radiant and her moral courage was/is a beacon for all of us.
Tuesday, December 29
On Tuesday, after receiving a definite confirmation that we would not be allowed into Gaza, I and many others went to the French Embassy (where the French delegation had set up a protest the day before, even sleeping in front of their embassy) to join with them. They were surrounded by riot police and paddy wagons (parked across the street) but their exuberance was amazing to behold.
On New Year’s Eve, the French were still occupying the sidewalk in front of their embassy, and while I wasn’t there, I was told that they celebrated the New Year joyously and enthusiastically while continuing to protest Egypt’s refusal to let us pass to Gaza, Israeli apartheid, and US support for what Israel is doing. The world could take some lessons from this persistent group of individuals.
Of all the nations represented in our group, the French government was the only one to support its citizens who participated in the March. An interesting (and surprising) piece of information that came from French citizens was that Israel has a Mossad office in the French embassy. I can only assume that if the French house a Mossad office, the US most likely does too. How is it that the world does obeisance to this apartheid, genocidal regime?
A number of Americans from our group went to the US embassy to speak to the ambassador, only to be detained and barricaded by Egyptian police. Three delegates were allowed into the embassy to speak with officials, but the officials were dismissive and unsupportive of our efforts to reach Gaza. After several hours, the Americans who had been barricaded in by the police were allowed to leave.
A demonstration was also held at the Egyptian journalists building in the afternoon – we were making our voices heard all over Cairo.
Wednesday, December 30
Early Wednesday morning, we learned that late in the day on Tuesday, Code Pink had struck a deal with the Egyptian government to allow two buses of participants to go to Gaza and deliver supplies. This might appear to have been a minor victory, but as we heard more of the details behind the deal, it was everything but a victory – it was a cave-in and a defeat that came close to destroying the Gaza Freedom March. The deal meant that although 2 busloads would be permitted to enter Gaza, the Egyptian government dictated the number of individuals who could go (100), as well as “who” was allowed to go. It was not the Code Pink Steering Committee who accepted the offer from President Mubarak’s wife (the deal was never presented to the Steering Committee), but two individuals who made a unilateral decision to accept the token gesture. I couldn’t help thinking about (and agreeing with) Bishop Tutu’s remark: "I am not interested in picking up crumbs of compassion thrown from the table of someone who considers himself my master. I want the full menu of rights." The Gaza Freedom March was about the whole menu for us and particularly for the Palestinians under a cruel siege in Gaza and oppressive occupation in the West Bank.
When word got out about the deal, there was an explosion of anger among the GFM participants. Many went to where the buses were scheduled to depart and demonstrated. Before the individuals on the bus were to depart, a message came from the GFM organizers within Gaza & the West Bank, Haidar Eid and Omar Barghouti, asking that the 2 buses not come, as it was not about humanitarian needs or token gestures that allowed a few to enter, but about breaking the siege of Gaza. At that point, several individuals got off the buses and refused to go, while others, at the urging of one the CP deal-makers, quickly took their places.
The buses, which also carried several journalists, including the stellar voice and champion of justice for the Palestinians, Amira Hass of Ha’aretz (an Israeli newspaper), were allowed into Gaza but their presence there, and the planned march (which was to include 50,000 Gazans from the civil sector, who would have marched with us had we all been allowed to enter) was co-opted by Hamas (Amira Hass writes a very telling account of the experience of getting into Gaza and how it was co-opted by Hamas). The scheduled march ended up including about 200-300 Gazans (almost entirely men and all representatives of Hamas) and the 83 individuals on the 2 buses. I cannot emphasize enough that this was no victory – it was a huge defeat!
Those of us who remained in Cairo were dubbed by Egypt’s Foreign Minister as “hooligans” and “agents provocateurs.” I have to say that I relish being called a hooligan, a hooligan for Palestine. My roommate thought it would make a great t-shirt: “Hooligans for Palestine.” Coming soon, perhaps! President Mubarak also bemoaned the embarrassment that the Gaza Freedom Marchers were causing his government – there was a great deal of international coverage (though very little in the US, I learned upon arriving home) as a result of his decision to block our entry. I can’t help but feel that had he just let all of us go, as originally planned, he would have saved himself that “embarrassment.” But then again, he is not allowed to make his own decisions on this matter – his strings are pulled by Israel and the US.
Early Wednesday afternoon, the South African GFM delegation met with about 100 of the GFM activists who were interested in working on a declaration for moving forward, for transcending the fractures caused by the unilateral decision to accept Egypt’s offer to allow 2 buses to enter Gaza. I have nothing but awe and admiration for the South Africans – they were amazing as they spoke of South African apartheid and Israeli apartheid and suggested how we could repair the fractures within the GFM and create a powerful movement. At this meeting we identified points/issues about which we wanted clear statements – from this was created The Cairo Declaration. I am exceedingly proud to have been a part of that meeting, a historic event to be sure, and to be one of the initial signatories to this document (I’m signature #98 in the list of initial signatories). Had we all been allowed to go to Gaza, I don’t think that this document would have emerged – so once again, from the broken pieces, there is restoration – Tikkun Olam.
Wednesday night, there was a very large meeting at the Lotus Hotel, where I was staying, to plan for the large demonstration the next day across from the Egyptian Museum. There were probably a couple hundred people in attendance. It was very open (we had nothing to hide) despite the fact that it was well known that Egyptian secret police were in the meeting (our hotel looked much like a police station most of the time, with both uniformed and plainclothes police). The demonstration would begin at 10 AM and we were told to plan to be milling around near the square wearing tourist clothing (nothing that would outwardly identify us as GFM participants) by 9:30 AM at the latest and to look for a signal to gather for our demonstration. About a half-hour after the meeting, we lost all internet connection. It came back on for about 30 minutes around 1:30 AM and was off again when I awoke later that morning. My suspicion that the police were responsible for our loss of internet service was confirmed the next day. Dictatorships operate on fear and the Egyptian government certainly feared our non-violent actions as a threat to the maintenance of their power and control over Egyptian society.
Thursday, December 31
I awakened by my roommate shaking me and saying: “Get up! The hotel is surrounded by police!” Sure enough, the Egyptian police (both uniformed and plainclothes secret police) had barricaded the entrance to our hotel and the paddy wagons were across the street; internet access was also cut again.
Many people had left very early for the demonstration that was to take place a few blocks away, but some of us had planned to leave only an hour in advance. Several of those were able to come up with creative excuses and wheedle their way out of the police lines. About 20 of us (including me), were not so lucky. No matter to whom we appealed, the answer was consistently “no” or “in 5 minutes” (code for – “you’re not going anywhere soon”). So we took matters into our own hands – sometimes all you can do is to work with what you’ve got - and held our own demonstration on our small turf. Someone had brought a banner (we were able to go in and out of our hotel, but not allowed to pass through the barricade), and another person on the outside got us markers and poster board to make signs.
For over six hours, we held our signs and chanted: “Israel, Israel, you can’t hide. We charge you with genocide;” “Free, Free Palestine,” “Liberate Gaza,” etc, etc. You cannot imagine the solidarity that emerged from our small group of activists from several nations. And the solidarity from the Egyptian people, who stopped to encourage us or ask if they could bring us some food or drink – knowing that they risked being targeted by the secret police. It was amazing and impressive. One Egyptian woman shamed and shouted at the police for so long that they allowed her to join our group, but I shudder to think of her fate after we disbanded. The Egyptian government does not tolerate dissent from their people. One young Egyptian man, a journalist, showed us the scars from his torture several years ago.
After almost 6 hours of protesting, the police wanted us to put an end to things (it was coming up on New Years eve, and while they don’t celebrate the new year as ardently as some countries, they were ready to get home to their families), so they started to close ranks on us, pushing us into a smaller space. We tried very hard to hold the lines – I shouted at the soldiers several times: “You would do this to your mother?” (In the Middle East older women are accorded a heightened degree of respect and knowing this, I’ve learned that there are times when being a grandmother can be turned to my advantage). Despite the fact that most of them spoke little or no English, they seemed to understand – and even the plainclothesmen ordered them to back off and stop pushing.
At that point we had to decide whether to stand our ground and be ready to stay, if necessary, through the evening and possibly all night. There were three of us, the magnificent Barbara Lubin of MECA and her assistant and myself, who wanted to stay and hold the lines. However, we were outvoted by the rest of our group and the three of us knew that we couldn’t hold back the barricades by ourselves, so we wished the police a very happy new year and disbanded. I have to say that this small demonstration was one of the highlights of the march for me – it was a lesson in taking what appeared to be an impossible situation and turning it into something powerful; it was a lesson in what a small group can do. I’m still caught up in the adrenaline of those 6 hours.
After our group disbanded we headed over to where the main demonstration was still going on. We had heard, via reports from GFM individuals who were observing (the demonstration itself was made up of those who were willing to risk arrest while those on the outside of the demonstration would observe, document, film, and provide support to the demonstrators) that the police had been violent with the marchers in the beginning. Several were beaten, others pushed and treated very roughly. I subsequently learned that, during the onset of violence, one of the Americans had called the US Embassy to report what was going on and request assistance to stop the violence. She was basically told that the Embassy would do nothing to help, to which she responded, “We can take that to the press?” Within a half-hour, individuals from several embassies showed up and the violence ended.
Friday, January 1
About 120 of us met with the South African Delegation to approve and sign the Cairo Declaration (see endnote 3). It was a momentous occasion – I felt as if I was a part of something propitious, something that was far-reaching and would not end as each of us departed Cairo. A global movement to end Israeli apartheid was born. I cannot help but think that had we gotten into Gaza, this document, and the movement it is spawning, would not have come into being. Sometimes, losing a battle allows new and innovative strategies to surface that will win the war.
That afternoon we demonstrated in front of the Israeli embassy – housed in a non-descript high-rise on the 10th floor. The only thing that announces its existence is the Israeli flag that flies, unnoticeable unless you are looking for it, from the rooftop.
Of course, within minutes of setting up our demonstration across from the embassy, the riot police turned out and the paddy wagons pulled up. Some things never change. Our numbers were diminished as some had already left for their respective countries, but there was a good strong showing nonetheless.
I believe that our demonstrations should have begun here, rather than ending here, as Israel, with the support of the United States, is the reason for the siege and blockade of Gaza. As a Jew of Conscience, I feel especially strong about this because Israel purports to speak and act for all Jews in their oppression, apartheid, and slow genocide of the Palestinians, but they do not speak for me. I am a Jew, not a Zionist, and I take seriously the injunction to never stand idly by while my neighbor’s (in this case the Palestinians) blood is being spilled.
Saturday, January 2
GFM participants began to leave for their respective countries. I didn’t leave until Sunday evening so I joined two friends for a trip into the old city of Cairo. I had gone with three other friends on Wednesday evening and so enjoyed the ambience of the market and bazaar that I was eager to return – I also wanted another glass of the tasty sugar cane juice. We stopped right outside the gate to the old city to pick up an Egyptian newspaper that had pictures of our demonstration outside the Israeli embassy splashed across the front page. It was there that we met an Egyptian man who subsequently took us to his shop where mother-of-pearl is inlaid in beautiful wood boxes of varying sizes and also took us to some places that we might not have otherwise seen, like the shop of a glassblower, the open area where silk was being dyed, and the Delta Papyrus Center of the well-known Egyptian artist Said where I purchased 2 small papyrus for my two children. Said, an elderly gentleman who has recently had a stroke, served us tea and sat with us – during our conversation he also showed us the business card of Daniel Pearl, who had visited his shop shortly before his death.
Said
The streets of the old city of Cairo are very narrow, incredibly busy, and shared by pedestrians, motorbikes, small trucks, and donkey-drawn carts. Pedestrians are at the mercy of the vehicles and if one isn’t constantly on alert, one risks collision, as I found out. I had managed to escape being beaten by the Egyptian police only to be hit by a small truck. Fortunately he wasn’t traveling that fast – I was knocked down and suffered only a gash on my finger, bruised/swollen elbows, and the shock that comes from such an unexpected confrontation. The driver was terribly apologetic and though I was shaken, I think I was able to assure him and those who gathered around me that I was indeed fine.
I love the outdoor markets of the Middle East and old Cairo was no exception – the wonderful architecture and all kinds of fresh fruits and vegetables (strawberries and cauliflower below).
Sunday, January 3
As I sat in the Cairo airport waiting on my flight to Amman where I would make connections to the US, I felt sadness and enthusiasm – sad to leave new and old friends and enthusiasm at all the Gaza Freedom March accomplished despite not making it into Gaza. I had been surrounded my incredibly amazing people the entire week. My fellow “hooligans” included renowned powerful personalities such as Hedy Epstein (mentioned earlier), Barbara Lubin (mentioned earlier), Luisa Morgantini (whom I had met in the West Bank in 2007 and who told me that the annual Bil’in conference would be held in April while I planned to be in the WB), and the quiet, graceful, and serene granddaughter of Dorothy Day, Martha Hennesey. Also part of the GFM were Alice Walker and Starhawk. My fellow “hooligans” and compatriots also included wonderful individuals/activist whose names are not recognizable outside their activist circles but are no less powerful voices in the fight for justice for the Palestinians – I find myself humbled and awed at their passion and commitment to this struggle. My roommate was one of those people, a friend also from the DC area, and I am constantly amazed at her energy and organization around this issue. And then there were all the other wonderful hooligans from all over the world – compatriots – who I didn’t come to know individually but with whom I stood in solidarity during our demonstrations and meetings. The representation of almost 1400 individuals from 43 countries – women and men of all ages (but primarily young people and older individuals), many racial and ethnic backgrounds, religious traditions, and all hues of left-of-center politics made us a diverse and powerfully integrated group.
And I can’t forget to mention the Egyptian young man who was friends with my roommate and who, we subsequently discovered, is also a friend of my dear friend in Gaza. We became fast friends and I feel as if I have gained another son.
Linda (who is married to a Palestinian in Gaza and hasn’t seen him for six months), my roommate Pam, and Samir, my newly-adopted son.
While I am glad to be home, I realize anew, that the real work for justice for the Palestinians begins here, at home. I entertain no hopes or expectations of a just resolution for the Palestinians in the short term. But I do believe that the there is an arc that bends toward justice and I believe that working for justice should not be contingent on hope – it hangs rather, on obligation – getting up every morning and continuing the struggle, not because there is hope but because it is right. I may never see the results that I seek but I am bound, as a human and as a Jew, to continue to work toward justice for the oppressed. As my good friend and Jewish Liberation theologian, Marc Ellis wrote: "If we throw strategy to the wind and end our hope for victory, then we are free to be faithful.” Faithfulness – that’s what it’s about!
For more information on the Gaza Freedom March I encourage you to visit their website and especially to view the pictures posted by participants - much better pics than the ones I took with my cell-phone camera, and more eye-opening. I would also recommend the blog of my roommate, Pam, the blog of my friend Eva in Gaza, as well as a report that appeared in Common Dreams by another GFM participant.
