Shereen's Blog

It is impossible to visit Israel these days without being aware
of the constant threat posed by terrorists. Suicide bombs kill
and maim innocent persons riding in buses or taking a meal in
a restaurant. We Jews who survived the Shoah know all too well
that the intentional targeting of civilians is illegal and
immoral. So I grieve the loss of life in Jerusalem from the
suicide bombs.

But I also grieve the loss of life in Palestine, which occurs
almost on a daily basis. So I went to Palestine as a member
of the International Solidarity Movement to observe the
difficult conditions of daily life under military occupation.
It would have been enough to reach out and touch just one
Palestinian and place my hand on her shoulder and tell her
that I was with her in her pain. But I saw and did much more.

In Bethlehem, I saw a Caterpillar bulldozer ripping up
centuries-old olive trees to clear a path for rolled razor
wire and antitank trenches dividing the town where Jesus was
born.

In Qalqilia, I was dwarfed by Israel's separation wall rising
more than 25 feet. In President George W. Bush's phrase, it
"snakes in and out of the West Bank." It keeps farmers from
their fields and hems in 50,000 residents on all sides.

In Masha, I joined a demonstration against this wall. I saw a
red sign warning ominously of "MORTAL DANGER" to any who dare
cross this fence. Then I saw Israeli soldiers aiming at
unarmed Israeli and international protesters. I saw blood
pouring out of Gil Na'amati, a young Israeli whose first
public act after completing his military service was to
protest against this wall. I saw shrapnel lodged in the leg
of Anne Farina, one of my traveling companions from St.
Louis. And I thought of Kent State and Jackson State,
where National Guardsmen opened fire in 1970 on protesters
against the Vietnam War. Near Der Beilut, I saw the Israeli
police turn a water cannon on our nonviolent protest. And I
remembered Birmingham, Ala., in 1963 and wondered why a
democratic society responds to peaceable assembly by trying
literally to drown out the voice of our protest.

At the end of the journey I had a shocking experience. I
knew that what I had said and done was viewed by some as
controversial but surely not as threatening. So I did not
imagine that the Israeli security force that guards
Ben-Gurion Airport would abuse a 79-year-old Holocaust
survivor, holding me for five hours and performing a
completely unnecessary strip search of every part of my
naked body.

The only shame these security officials expressed was to
turn their badges around so that their names were
invisible. The only conceivable purpose for this gross
violation of my bodily integrity was to humiliate and
terrify me.

Of course, I felt humiliated by this outrage, but I refuse
to be terrified by cowards who hide their identity while
engaging in such unnecessary disrespect. It is a cruel
illusion that brute force of this sort provides security
to Israel. Degrading me cannot silence my small voice.

Similarly, humiliating Palestinians cannot extinguish
their hopes for a homeland. Only ending this utterly
unnecessary occupation will bring peace to the region.