Saving Palestine

By:  Brandon Weyrauch

SEATTLE CENTRAL ANTHROPOLOGY PROFESSOR SUSAN BARCLAY’S EXPERIENCE IN NABLUS, WEST BANK.

The streets of Nablus are empty, save for armed soldiers who roam the roads like savage dogs.  The locals have nowhere to go, lest they risk being killed. Mothers are crying throughout the land.  Their babies wail; their daughters scream; their sons bear the bruises of no democracy.  Families have been twisted, shredded, torn apart.  Their tears fall like monsoon rains.  Many fathers have left, and many will not return.  Their fight for freedom has ended; their voices were loud, but the bullets that silenced them were louder. 

Darkness envelops this land, eating away at the daylight.  There is hope, existing like a candle burning; but each gunshot, each death-cry, each harrowing pleafor help falls on deaf ears, and jeopardizes the flickering flame. 

Hope is in the heart of the activist that enters this land, who defies death for the cause of life, to ensure that the promise of another day continues shining as a wild desire in the minds of those riding on the fringes of despair.  This land exists far from freedom, deep in the Middle East.  The anguish, the crying, the wailing, the killing, is all too real.  So too are the activists, who give up their luxuries at home and travel many miles abroad to this place of destruction, having one goal in mind: freedom for the Palestinian people. 

This is the experience of one of those activists who lived through the volatile atmosphere so that she could testify to her fellow Americans about the plight of the inhabitants of Nablus.

SUSAN BARCLAY: professor, peace activist, great person

*                              *                              *                             *

 

“It is so amazing when people follow their passions and just try to do something wherever they are; and when we embody care, connection and consideration for others, it really changes the world!”

–Susan Barclay, 2011

Some folks find their passion sparked while playing music. Some are swayed when teachings toddlers ABCs.  Some are most avid when rousing love’s divine desires through poetry.  For Susan Barclay—an anthropology professor at Seattle Central Community College—her fulfillment is found in doing her best to create positive change in the world.

In 2003, the West Bank and neighboring Israel were experiencing an intense period of ongoing military occupation.  With Palestinian and Israeli leaders constantly at odds, it was a stressful time throughout the land, where chaos reigned supreme, and body-bags were in short supply. The bad blood existing between the two sides dates back to the initiation of the British Mandate of 1917, which viewed favorably the establishment of a Jewish homeland in Palestine, thus instigating anger and civil unrest among the local Arabs.  The contentions have ripened throughout the years, resulting in indignant turf wars that have only added to the monumental strife separating the two nations.

In 1988, after the Palestinian Liberation Organization’s (PLO) National Council (PNC) ratified the bilateral Palestinian Declaration of Independence, the State of Palestine went into exile.  Although the PLO—formed in 1964—had been working for years for the Palestinian cause, much political upheavals still followed, as the commonwealth struggled to form a more reputable leadership.  The disarray continued until 2002, when the Palestinian government solidified, leading to the installation of their first President, Mahmoud Abbas.

Israel was also experiencing a shift in power, as Ariel Sharon was about to supersede Ehud Barak as Prime Minister.  It was a time of perpetual warfare in the Middle East, and all eyes in the international community were focused on these two governments.  Disagreements concerning the creation of an independent Palestinian state were the catalyst of much bloodshed in the land, leading the Quartet on the Middle East, an allied assembly between the United States, the European Union, the United Nations, and Russia, to intervene, calling Abbas and Sharon together to discuss a “road map” for peace, a plan detailing what must happen for unity to occur between the opposing parties.  The meeting was futile, as neither side managed to implement corrective, unified change into their political bargaining.

 In the summer of 2002, Susan Barclay, then 26, was full of youthful nobility. Having majored in Anthropology and Peace Studies at Notre Dame University, Barclay was intent on embarking into the real world, specifically to the West Bank, where she could take her experiences from the classroom and apply them to real world situations, hoping that in the process, she could support and bear witness to a subjugated lot of people demanding fulfillment of their universal human rights from their occupiers.  The Middle East was not foreign to her; she had studied at Hebrew University in Jerusalem and at Bethlehem during her senior second-year of university, where she made numerous Israeli and Palestinian friends.  It would be her first opportunity to experience firsthand humanitarian work in a third world country.

“I had been doing activism and non-profit work since university,” said Barclay. “So I had long been involved in humanitarian work of certain kinds but nothing set in the context of a violent military occupation—I had only seen that element in Jerusalem in 1999.”

In June of 2002, Barclay joined the International Solidarity Movement (or ISM), an organization existing solely for the empowerment of the Palestinian cause.  Formed in 2001 by a group of Palestinian peace activists, the coalition, which is a worldwide assemblage of pacifists loyal to the Palestinian crusade for justice, binds together in non-violent demonstrations aimed at influencing affirmative adjustments within the Israeli military. Essentially, The ISM acts as a support to those residents who have been victimized by unlawful military acts.  It provides relief efforts to struggling communities and supports non-violent resistance to the Israeli military occupation: removing roadblocks, impeding the flow of military traffic, accompanying Palestinians under threat, staying with Palestinians whose homes are threatened by demolition, and safeguarding Palestinians as they cross through Israeli checkpoints.

The activist in Barclay was drawn to the ISM.  The opportunity afforded her the occasion to make a difference in the lives of her Middle Eastern companions.  She is a devout believer in world peace, and a staunch defender of any organization which bases its ideals on the promotion of addressing and shifting inequalities between oppressed peoples and the tyrannical political regimes that subdue them.  

“I wanted to go to work with anyone who was interested in non-violently confronting the Israeli military occupation,” she told me.  “Palestinians have been doing this for decades and continue to do this daily and internationals were coming (and continue to go) to use their privilege to call attention to, challenge and attempt to shift some power imbalances between the Israeli military and Palestinian citizens.”  So, in the summer of 2002, when she learned of the ISM’s Middle East mission, coined “Freedom Summer”, she jumped at the opportunity to represent the alliance in the mountainous West Bank city of Nablus.

The injustice she witnessed from the Israeli military occupation in Nablus was widespread.  It was everywhere, and it was ugly.  It affected every home, every street alley, virtually every square inch of the city.  People made no attempts to hide violence.  Israeli soldiers would beat a man on a public road as his wide-eyed children looked on.  With no remorse they punched and kicked, landing bone-cracking blows.  They spit in his face as his swollen body lay on the ground.  Once their interest had waned, they walked away, cursing loudly the man’s Arab/Palestinian blood. 

The inhumane acts Barclay witnessed strengthened her resolve to eradicate violence from the bloody streets of Nablus.  She found that when she accompanied a Palestinian family through the city, Israeli soldiers, upon seeing a blonde-haired, blue-eyed American female, acted cordially, and gave not a passing glimpse to the family.  Her foreign status served as a shield, saving Palestinians from Israeli brutality.  Says Barclay: “Because I was a white, U.S. American female, (Israeli) soldiers would not shoot at me or harass me, when the same is absolutely not true for Palestinian females.  I think people in positions of privilege have a responsibility to use that privilege to challenge inequalities wherever they exist. This is one powerful way to create social change.”

At the time, the city of Nablus was under an Israeli imposed decree ordering all Palestinian citizens to abide by a curfew restricting them to their homes for 24-hour periods, a punishment allowed by international law.  The denizens soon grew tired of the curfew, and began breaking its ordinances, causing the Israeli Army to increase their iniquitous use of excessive force.  Soldiers began firing upon school-children, and chasing them with their tanks, scare tactics designed to keep order, and to show rebels that it was the Israelis who maintained power.  As the sound of gunshots pounded the air, children ran in all directions, screaming and crying.  Barclay looked on in horror.  “I watched in complete and utter disbelief, knowing that it was only a matter of time until someone was injured.  I was, however, anything but prepared for it to be two children, one two-years old and one three, shot in the head and arm hours later by this indiscriminate, furious firing.  I thought about what children say to their parents when they (the parents) ask how school was today.  I asked myself what kind of human beings can drive these tanks and jump out of jeeps, firing on small children and streets full of civilians for the outrageous crime of merely being outside.”  In the ensuing days, Barclay, along with other Internationals, attended the schools, hoping their presence would dissuade the Army from further acts of terrorization and heinous brutality, to no avail, for upon seeing the ISM members at the schools, the Israelis switched from firing lethal rounds, to shooting canisters of tear gas.

Barclay remembers countless incidents where Israeli soldiers acted out cruelly, for no particular reason at all.  The soldiers used deceptive means to justify their irrational behavior, claiming that they were working to keep the peace, and were providing security for civilians.   She recalls a specific confrontation that occurred in Zatara.  She and three Internationals were traveling back to Nablus in a car bearing Palestinian license plates.  They were traveling along the main drive between Nablus and Ramallah.  When they reached Zatara, they came upon an Israeli-guarded checkpoint.  The sentries stopped their car, and forbid the party further use of the road to reach their destination of Nablus. When pressed to explain the interdiction, the guards refused to provide answers, telling the passengers that if they wished to continue by car, they would have to find a different route.  “And our driver did,” explains Barclay.  “A distance of 35km turned into a journey of five hours, but we made it, and so do Palestinians in every city and village, and the Israeli Army knows it.”

Occurrences such as these were frequent during Barclay’s stay.  Some of the soldiers had become vicious killers who had lost all reverence for life.  Some were kind, and just did not want to be there at all.  Some of the more radical soldiers would not hesitate before firing their weapons, shooting at will, with total disregard for whomever stood in their path.  Worst of all, there were no restrictions to the demonic nature of the killing sprees.  The sound of gunfire in Nablus is as common as the sound of car-horns honking in New York City.  Barclay recalls that the Israeli Army patrolled at all hours of the day and night, “attacking people and opening fire in the most active, populated areas, such as the Old City (Nablus) and the refugee camps.”

During the brief intervals when the violent atmosphere would de-escalate, was time Barclay utilized to forge friendships, and to integrate herself into the Palestinian lifestyle.  The natives were curious about this pale-skinned woman who had suddenly shown up, curious about their way of life, and insisting on listening and learning.  In turn, they invited her into their homes, prepared meals for her, and introduced her to their customs.   

She befriended a man named Feras, a local ambulance driver, and spent a great deal of time riding along with him, amazed by his work.  Feras was a man who understood that one way to beat a dictatorial regime was to not let its oppressive politics affect his perspective on life.  So he told jokes; he smiled; he laughed; and he made others laugh.  Still, he was humorless when a situation required sincerity, as when called to rescue someone whose life hung in the balance, an occupation he took to passionately, rising above expectations in order to serve his fellow men and women.  “Feras was consistently the ambulance driver willing to take more risks than the others to get injured people,” Barclay told me.  “He walked and drove into so many dangerous situations to save someone else’s life.”

One quiet evening when Feras was between shifts, she found him reclining in the front seat of the ambulance, his eyes closed, music drifting from the speakers, carrying his mind far, far away from the carnage occurring in his homeland.  The anthropologist in Barclay got the best of her, and she stirred him from his relaxation.  “I asked him what he saw when he closed his eyes to relax.  He said he would see image after image of dead, injured and maimed people.  My heart broke for this highly courageous person who cared so much for other people, and who was using his life to save other lives.”  Barclay related easily to Feras, the local hero, for both shared a life-saving duty.

Months passed by, and the situation never changed.  Each day, Barclay found herself full of sorrow, as reports of newly deceased Palestinian men, women, and children, were consistently the talk of the town.  The Nablus people, in the face of potential death, continued living their lives normally, even as death sat lurking, waiting in ambush around every street corner.  It was a resilience she admired.  “The residents of Nablus face vicious violence simply because they open their front doors and step out on to the street,” remarked Barclay.  “(They face violence) because teachers open the schools, because people visit the sick, walk to the market, and sell fruits, falafel, and sweets to make a little money to feed their children.  In spite of ever present tanks, tear gas, injuries, bullets, tank shells, humiliation, jeeps and checkpoints, Nablus residents are determined to continue to live.  I cannot capture in words how greatly I admire the people of Nablus.  May we learn from the people of Nablus, who have so much to teach us.  They know that there is power in numbers, that there is great strength in organizing, that you can effectively resist oppressive, violent power, that hope is a magical force, and that you can beat the world’s 5^th largest army nonviolently with your head, and your heart.”

*                                  *                                     *                             *

In March 2003, having spent eight months in Nablus, Barclay returned to the United States; but not before being arrested by the Israeli Army, spending a week in an Israeli prison, and to top it all off, facing deportation orders.  Of course, these events represent another story, to be told at another time.  The most important part of Susan Barclay’s account, however, is her humanitarianism, which should never be overshadowed by the malicious behavior of the Israeli government.

Susan Barclay is a selfless hero in a world where so many people’s only concern is for themselves.  Reading the online smear campaign about Barclay, written by pro-Israeli activists, may lead one to think otherwise, but once you meet the woman and spend time talking with her, you realize instantly that you’ve come across a rare individual, a diamond in the rough, if you will. 

Coming out of the gates of university—a time when most college grads are seeking jobs with firms willing to dole out big money—Barclay chose to join the Peace Corps, and to live a life devoted to inspiring constructive progress within societies.  She knew that to instigate change on a global scale, she herself needed to be a catalyst for change; so each forward movement of hers was steeped in compassion for humanity.  Barclay’s life is an example for all of us to aspire to. 

“I do believe that our lives are our messages and that ideally, one’s values should be apparent in the way one lives,” said Barclay. “This is something I work toward every day and it is work that has run through all the places I have lived.”

Her statement speaks volumes, as evidenced by her travelling to Palestine, and by her putting her life on the line to ensure that Nablus children not be shot, nor be crushed by tanks.  Her message is demonstrated by her eagerness to take a stand for what she believes in; when the ugly face of injustice shone through a war monger’s eyes, she stared it down, unafraid.  “I have always cared a great deal about challenging inequalities and changing them.”  Her faith in solidarity is strong, her vision solid as steel.  “I believe a peaceful, humane life for every single person on the planet is possible, and I want to spend my life’s energies contributing to working towards that goal.”  Because of Susan Barclay, our world is a safer place to live. 

And in Nablus, as the sun goes down, shrouding the already gloomy land in a dense darkness, a candle burns in a small, Palestinian home, and laughter lightens the air, as a family remembers the pale, white-skinned American female, who came to their town to do what she could to reignite their hope, which now blazes like a wildfire in their humble, human hearts.

***IF YOU ENJOYED THIS STORY, PLEASE CHECK OUT MY BLOG AT raisingthebarpublishing.wordpress.com