Bili'n forever

It's been a year since i last protested in Bili'n, a small but notorious village north west of Ramallah. Sadly, not much has changed. And what has changed is for the worse.

Israel has begun construction of the Wall but for the most part, the 'barrier' remains double layered fencing topped by barbed wire. They've now placed large wraps of more barbed wire 200 metres from the fence so instead of walking down and confronting the soldiers face-to-face, we now run down and wait a matter of seconds before getting tear gassed within an inch of our lives.
Reassuringly, some things stay the same and there is still a sporadic yet effective flow of rubber bullets.

Last Friday, International, Palestinian and Israeli activists ran down the hill together, side by side. We ran to show the Israeli Occupation Forces that they've not yet quashed Palestinian resistance, despite every attempt to and their superior weaponry.
This protest in particluar is against the illegal annexation of Palestinian land which will then be use to build them their very own prison. The Wall.

This Friday, we returned to the very same thing. But whereas we may attend three or four such protests during our stay here, the Palestinians have been doing this for over two years. Week in, week out.

Wearing a cap to protect my head from the relentless midday sun, shaded goggles to protect my eyes from the countless tear gas canisters that come flying over the fence, a scarf to shield my face from the soldier's ever ready cameras and half an onion to help me breathe once being gassed, i may not have looked my most attractive but i was ready.

We set out from the top of hill, down the winding path towards the barbed wire set back from the fence. As we walked, chanting Palestine solidarity songs, my friend and i looked left and right to check the positions of the IOF snipers. We saw and made a mental note of the 9 to our left and 15 to our right, hiding in the bushes on our side of the fence.

As we neared the last leg of our journey, the frontline - myself, 7 other ISM'ers, 2 israeli anarchists and the Palestinian coordinators broke out into a sprint and were greeted with approximately 10 shots of tear gas, one straight after the other. Checking for the direction of the wind we pulled back to the left and retrieved the onions from our back pockets, holding them to our noses as a reminder to breathe. Tear gas, for the most part, is a psychological weapon. It makes you feel like you can't breathe which then initiates a rising panic inside of you as you struggle for breath thus inhaling more of the gas and filling your lungs with what feels like small jagged pieces of glass.

In reality, you can breathe, but you really have to keep telling yourself this and use the ammonia from the onion to kick start your mind. It's a difficult mental battle to undergo when your eyes are streaming, your skin is burning and you're still being shot at from all directions.


Pausing to compose ourselves, we regrouped and headed back to the path towards the soldiers, chanting louder than before. Not a minute later, more gas came our way. This time it was shot through the barrel of a gun and directed at us, not above us. Our first casualty was Jonathon Pollack, a recent acquaintance of mine and part of Israeli Anarchists Against the Wall. Although anarchists don't have leaders, if they were to have a front man and spokesperson, Jonathon would be theirs. He's been arrested more times than i can count and shot, beaten up and abused just as much. His face is known to all the authorities and despite being a target at most protests, he's at nearly every single one.

We were walking together when i heard him cry out with pain. Jumping over the many rocks that exist in the area - making quick getaways fairly difficult, i ran to his side and saw his forearm swelling to three times its size. I ripped my scarf off and tied it tight around his upper arm as the blood was starting to pour from his lower arm. Not a rubber bullet this time but a tear gas canister, so not only would the impact have been hard but it was incredibly hot as well. The Palestinian Red Cross were unable to get their ambulance down the hill and i could see him losing consciousness and struggling to sit upright. His arm was hanging limply at his side and were it not for a slight movement in his fingers i would have said they had broke it clean in half. At this point we were fast getting trapped in a small walled area about 100 metres squared. No sooner had i tied his arm did the soldiers shoot again, forcing us to move to the other side of the enclosed area. On reaching that side, more gas and several sound bombs were fired once again in our direction. Seeing the hopelessness of the situation we were in, we called over to the ground medic and two ISM'ers to help lift him to path.

Once he was being walked back up the hill, i rejoined the others further down. More gas was coming at us, this time hand thrown. The Palestinian coordinators were wearing heat resistant gloves and began throwing the canisters away from the group. It was at this point i shocked myself with my own reflexes because no sooner had some of the gas been thrown aside i saw more being shot, straight at the heart of the group. I ducked to the left and literally felt the canister fly past my right side. Having done it once, i gained confidence and focused on watching the soldiers to see where they would shoot the gas next. Only they didn't shoot gas next, they shot rubber bullets.

There are two main types of rubber bullets used at protests here. The first sprays approximately 20 bullets in all directions and hopes to randomly hit one of the protesters, or scare them at least. The second comes in ball form and is wrapped in only the thinnest layer of rubber. It's a well known fact that soldiers often shoot this type at the ground in order to disconnect the outer rubber coating from the steel ball beneath, allowing it to ricochet up onto the target and make the hit far more painful.
As we were dodging rubber bullets, further up the hill a Palestinian wasn't as successful. He had been shot in the head. I caught a glimpse of him being carried out to the ambulance and saw blood pouring down his face, drenching his shirt and trousers.


And still the Palestinian coordinators called to the Internationals to keep moving forward, to keep singing. A few feet from the barbed wire they fired again, it was relentless. Vomiting lung fluid and doubled over in pain, i fell down, hit my leg on a rock and sat holding my stomach, waiting for the convulsions to pass. My thighs were sweating, my back soaked and my face felt like acid was being poured onto it. I saw a friend in a similar position who had water so got up and half-ran, half-limped over to her. The worse thing you can do in such situations is drink water or put it on your face so we gargled the water and spat it back out on the side of the road.
Two seconds later we were running again. This time for cover behind a house whilst the bullets reigned down on us like a monsoon shower.

Finally it stopped and we all came out from behind the deserted house with our hands in the air, calling to the soldiers "please stop shooting! We are unarmed and non violent!".
Walking very slowly so as not to provoke them further, we made our way down the path towards them. Our aim was to get close enough to speak to them. We got very close, within a few metres of them by saying "please we need water" and by keeping our hands firmly in the air. I couldn't believe what happened next. They gave us water. We drank and spat to our delight until someone saw that one of the soldiers had started taking pictures of the exchange. They only wanted photos of us accepting their water to use against us as evidence of their willingness to cooperate. Their manipulation of the situation shouldn't astound me but yet i was still surprised. We backed off which was a mistake because as soon as was there more than a few metres distance between us, they threw more gas.
Running to escape it, i fell again over the many rocks and onto a small fire (one of many) which had been started because the land is so dry that the hot tear gas canisters ignite it. Ripping an olive branch from a nearby tree, myself and a few others beat the fire til it was out and headed back to the path.
It was time to call it a day.
Our heads were pounding, our bodies battered and yet, we'd showed them that resistance was still alive and well.

All this running back and forth away from tear gas and bullets may seem pointless but if the Palestinians keep quiet, the situation here would be so much worse. And if Internationals weren't here, they'd use live ammunition on the Palestinians. Because of the attention this protest has gained, last week we were all on CNN and this week, even more cameras were on us. It is only under the spotlight of media attention and international awareness that any change will ever come about.
Sometimes i don't understand the soldiers. If they were to just sit back and let us protest peacefully, there would be no way near as much publicity around this area and i'm sure resistance would dwindle as a result. As ridiculous as it seems, their disproportionate reaction fuels our cause and propels us into realms of awareness we otherwise wouldn't have.
So we'll see them again next Friday. Same time, same place.