by Amira Hass
Ha'aretz
March 09, 2004This is an admission of failure. The written word is a failure at making tangible to Israeli readers the true horror of the occupation in the Gaza Strip. When something is written about the sea being closed off to Palestinians in the north and south of the Strip, the response will be "they are terrorists." If something is written about neighborhoods in the western part of the Khan Yunis refugee camp and how the buildings are all full of bullet holes from heavy machine guns and cannon shells, the response will be "the Palestinians started it." Tell the story of how 15-year-old Yusuf Bashir's family home in Dir al-Balah has been turned into an army fortress, and in Israel they'll say, "there is no choice, the Jewish settlement of Kfar Darom must be protected, like Kfar Dekalim, Atzmona and Morag."
A report that the soldiers in a military position right next to Yusuf's house agreed to allow a UN team into the family's courtyard will be used in Israel as proof of the humanitarian attitudes of soldiers who are ready to take risks while doing their duties. And when it's reported that suddenly one of the soldiers - an officer, as the IDF spokeswoman would later say - "shot at the wheels of a suspicious vehicle" (the UN team's car), in Israel that will be a shooting that never happened. And then, it will be reported that the boy, Yusuf Bashir, was shot in the back as he waved goodbye to the visitors from the UN, and it is possible he'll remain paralyzed for life - maybe that word "paralyzed" will give a few readers pause. But so many stories about so many Yusufs never get reported, and never will get reported.
This admission of the failure of the written word is not meant to enhance the role of photography. A picture may indeed be worth a thousand words, but for the Israeli occupation to approach some level of comprehension, Israelis need to see tens of thousands of photographs, one after the other, or watch documentaries that are at least eight hours long each, so they could grasp in real time the fear in the eyes of the school children when some whistling above turns into twisted crushed metal with charcoaled bodies inside.
Another movie should show the viewers the vineyards of Sheikh Ajalin, the ripe grapefruits, the peasants who for years nurtured the fruit with great love only to see it all turned to scorched earth left behind by Israeli tanks and bulldozers. No movie has yet been produced that would enable Israelis to taste the wonderful grapes of Sheikh Ajalin. The vineyards are gone so the military positions can protect Netzarim.
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