This Land is My Land, Your Land is My Land

If it's Sunday night chances are Susan Laurenco is having a hard
time getting to sleep. She's a volunteer for Machsom Watch who has
been monitoring checkpoints in the West Bank nearly every
weekend for 5 years. Members of Machsom (Hebrew for "barrier") sign up
for shifts to witness and document the struggles Palestinians face
every day. The work has an emotional weight that can induce insomnia.

Susan tells us that Qalqilya, a city in the area we monitored this
week, was once called the "City of Peace" by its inhabitants. Since
the Second Intifada its people dropped the nickname as it became
completely surrounded by the wall and bottle-necked into a single
checkpoint restricting movement, impeding everything from daily life to
emergencies that might involve an ambulance or fire truck.

Contrary to what most people think the checkpoints that cause the
most strife are not on Israeli-Palestinian borders, but within the
occupied territories. Qalqilya has had to go through an economic
overhaul since checkpoints were erected. These barriers separate
people from work, children from school, and families from each other.
Like most cities in the area, Qalqilya created an agricultural-based
economy using the beautiful and fertile land. Today these places
suffer because the barricades have also divided the land in ways that
interfere with developing the soil for farming and animal movement for
grazing.

One reason people probably believe the cross-border checkpoints are
more disruptive than those within the West Bank is the visual
contrast. Unlike the prominent walls designed to physically and
mentally imprison Palestinians on the border, the barriers within the
West Bank are wire-link fences which are comparatively invisible
especially from the settler colonies in the distance that are designed
to "protect". Israel is one giant military base and the occupied
territories are its brigs.

In 2003, when I spent time in the brig for being the first public
conscientious objector to the occupation of
Iraq, I went from being imprisoned by wire fences to being held behind
large concrete walls. Traveling around Israel and Palestine during the
Dialogues Against Militarism (DAM) delegation, it has felt like I've
transferred back and forth from
military base to prison several times. In both the brig and in the
West Bank the walls were more ominous but in many ways I felt more free
than when I was stationed on a base or while in Israel. My liberty was
restricted severely but I did have the liberty to follow my conscience;
I was free not to kill or die for an immoral and unjust war. While in
Israel I felt burdened with the knowledge that by spending sheckels I
was somewhat contributing to an oppressive occupation.

When I talk about being imprisoned I usually say that it really
wasn't that bad. In the end it was much better to serve six months in
the brig than spend six months+seven months+ nine months... on multiple
tours in Iraq. Some Marines have spent over 36 months total on their
third or fourth tour due to extensions, and war is a hell that
imprisons far longer than after a tour of duty ends.

Palestinians suffer more from the occupation, but Israelis suffer as
well. To cope with the guilt of being governed by a nation that
occupies their neighbors, some Israelis choose to remain ignorant about
what's happening in their own backyards, others are compelled to
develop religious excuses for setting up apartheid systems. All the
while generations are growing up under unjust treatment breeding anger
and resentment and ironically making Israel less safe. Much like in
the U.S. other Israelis choose instead to take responsibility and work
against the crimes being committed by their government.

Susan and other volunteers at Machsom Watch may not be able to sleep
at night, but their important work along other activists we have met
during the DAM delegation are vital pieces to solving the puzzle of the
Israeli-Palestinian conflict.