Breaking the Silence

I went on an incredibly eye-opening tour of Hebron, one the most tense cities in Israel/Palestine. I'll write a blog soon about the history of this place, and why the tour exists. In short, the tour is led by a group of Israeli ex-military people who needed to share the reality of the injustice taking place in this community. It truly is jarring. 

This is a small outpost building that Israeli settlers keep occupying. The police had evicted them many times, but they continue to move into it. It used to be a tent, but now is a building. It's strategic because it connects two different settlements, creating continuity between them. 

This is a memorial monument for an Israeli settler who walked into the Palestinian prayer room at the Temple of the Patriarchs and opened fire, killing over 20 Palestinians and injuring many more. His gun jammed, which is the only reason he was stopped. The murderer was able to walk into the holy site with his weapon without being stopped by the military guards, because he was Jewish and the explicit orders for army personnel is to protect Israelis. The mandate of the army continues to be one-sided protection to this day, without any direction on how to intervene against settler violence. 

Many settlers visit this monument to honour the "sacrifice" this man made. Settlers' extremist beliefs in the Jewish historical rights to this land, combined with a violent hatred of Palestinians leads some to pay homage to this kind of behaviour as admirable. 

Palestinians have had to put cages (not just bars, literally cages) over their windows to stop them from being smashed by settlers throwing stones. The smashing of windows is one of the many forms of settler violence that aims to drive Palestinians forcefully out of neighbourhoods and communties. 

This red hand signals the point at which Palestinians can no longer enter the road. For "safety reasons," Palestinians are restricted along many roads in central Hebron. The road to the right is entirely restricted: no driving, living, walking, or businesses allowed. 

This is a closed shop. The whole area in the centre of town used to be a thriving Palestinian market. Now, there is nothing but Israeli flags and locked doors. 

A whole strip of closed shops. There was no insurance or reimbursement for the losses Palestinians incurred. 

A military turret and HUMV, sitting on a deserted road that Palestinians are legally barred from accessing. 

Closed shops. 

A young settler boy, in what used to be a Palestinian shop/home. 

Walls like this were constructed to barricade areas of the market. The chicken market on the other side of this wall was legally re-opened to Palestinians at one point, but the military built concrete walls barring access to it. Luckily, the chickens could still fly to the market.

This is what a Palestinian window looks like without the cage. 

A funny contrast. The painting depicts a community beneath the flag, while in reality, this area has been turned into a ghost town, save for the presence of the army. 

More Palestinian windows. There is next to no law-enforcement against settlers in Hebron. They essentially have legal immunity, and use this privilege to terrorize and abuse their Palestinian neighbours. 

This made me think of my mom. She really wants a rocking bench on her front deck. I think the Palestinian family that was forced out of this home probably enjoyed their when they had it as well. 

Once a bustling market place of over 1,800 businesses and 1,000 families. 

Perhaps the most symbolic image for the State of Israel: a giant menorah next to a military turret on a hill inside Palestinian territory. The symbiotic relationship of religion and military occupation defines the Israeli identity and presence within the West Bank.