Cutting where they least expect it

Last Wednesday, myself, Palestinian, Israeli and other International activists cut a section out of the Annexation Fence near the village of Surif in the Hebron District.

This action was dominated by Internationals and Israelis because there is a shoot-to-kill policy on all Palestinians who approach the Fence. The few Palestinians who did join us are so hardcore they deserve a new word in the dictionary to merit them as such. We wore reflective vests because without wanting to sound melodramatic, Fence cutting is the most dangerous action to participate in. But it's more than important. By sabotaging their efforts to further oppress the Palestinian people, we demonstrate the illegitimacy of the Annexation Wall and the determination of the Palestinian people to not be ghettoized in their own land.

With bolt cutters, clippers and a sledge hammer, our three teams - one to cut the initial razor wire set a few metres back from the Fence, and two others to cut either side of the metal poles (i was cutting along the bottom) were able to cut a significant hole in the Fence; coming and going without being detected.

When completed in this area, the Annexation Fence will cut the nearby village of Al-Jab'a off from Surif and the rest of the West Bank, leaving it in 'no man's land' and surrounded by settlements. There is no room for justice through the usual channels of the israeli Supreme Court of Justice. Without Palestinians coordinating actions like this and utilising the privilege we have as Internationals and Israelis, there would be no outcry. Without actions like this, the Palestinian people would be quietly boxed into their square mile of land, held captive under the guise of free movement, and the rest of the world would be none the wiser. It might be just a symbolic gesture but right now, that means more than you can imagine.

Speeding away, sat cramped up against each other in the van, none of us spoke, but the joy and exhilaration each of us felt passed between us like a secret code. Pulling our scarfs down from around our faces, we smiled at one another and continued in silence, watching the sun set against the hills and their patrol cars race towards the message we'd left behind.

Watch it at: http://www.awalls.org/