Maybe it would soften the hearts of the Israelis to visit the West Bank and note the daily humiliations?
In the West Bank, pride has become bitterness
By David Ignatius, Published: January 31
HALHUL, West Bank
Hoping to understand the current Israeli-Palestinian negotiations in human terms, I paid a visit last week to a Palestinian farmer named Hammadeh Kashkeesh, whom I first met 32 years ago. The encounter reminded me of the pain at the heart of this dispute and of how hard it will be for any diplomatic settlement to resolve the bitterness on both sides.
First, try to imagine the landscape and how it has changed in the years of Israeli occupation. Halhul is an agricultural town in the rock-ribbed hills just south of Bethlehem. When I first traveled this route in 1982 to spend two weeks with Kashkeesh, to write a profile of his town, the hillsides were mostly barren. Now, the landscape is dense with Israeli settlements, many of them built since the Oslo Accord in 1993 that created the Palestinian Authority.
Kashkeesh and his neighbors pride themselves on raising what they claim are the tastiest grapes in the world. His access to his vines was obstructed more than a decade ago when a road was built for Israeli settlers who live nearby. He had given up his precious grapes when I visited in 2003, but he has found a way to tend them again. Some of his neighbors aren’t so lucky; their vines have grown wild or died.
Kashkeesh, 67, worked for years as a stonecutter and then a farmer. He managed to send all of his seven children to high school or college.
The indignity and bitterness that come with military occupation are deeply embedded in Kashkeesh’s voice. In Halhul, the Palestinian Authority is, in theory, largely responsible for security. But the Israeli military controls access on the main roads and intervenes when it sees a security threat. The night before my visit, Kashkeesh said, the Israeli army had arrested 10 people for throwing stones at soldiers.
There’s no condoning rock-throwing, let alone terrorist violence. Such tactics have had ruinous consequences for Palestinians, not least in undermining Israeli hope that they ever could live in peace. Hearing the anger in Kashkeesh’s voice, and seeing the sullen faces of young men gathered near his house, was a reminder that Palestinians experience life as a series of daily humiliations. Life here feels closed, embittered, confrontational.
When I first visited Halhul, openly advocating a Palestinian state could get you arrested. Villagers would hide a Palestinian flag disguised as embroidery, or a map of Palestine on the back of a wall photo. Now, the United States is working with Israeli and Palestinian negotiators on a “framework agreement” outlining terms for a peace accord.
continue.
Read entire article here: David Ignatius: In the West Bank, pride has become bitterness - The Washington Post
In the West Bank, pride has become bitterness
By David Ignatius, Published: January 31
HALHUL, West Bank
Hoping to understand the current Israeli-Palestinian negotiations in human terms, I paid a visit last week to a Palestinian farmer named Hammadeh Kashkeesh, whom I first met 32 years ago. The encounter reminded me of the pain at the heart of this dispute and of how hard it will be for any diplomatic settlement to resolve the bitterness on both sides.
First, try to imagine the landscape and how it has changed in the years of Israeli occupation. Halhul is an agricultural town in the rock-ribbed hills just south of Bethlehem. When I first traveled this route in 1982 to spend two weeks with Kashkeesh, to write a profile of his town, the hillsides were mostly barren. Now, the landscape is dense with Israeli settlements, many of them built since the Oslo Accord in 1993 that created the Palestinian Authority.
Kashkeesh and his neighbors pride themselves on raising what they claim are the tastiest grapes in the world. His access to his vines was obstructed more than a decade ago when a road was built for Israeli settlers who live nearby. He had given up his precious grapes when I visited in 2003, but he has found a way to tend them again. Some of his neighbors aren’t so lucky; their vines have grown wild or died.
Kashkeesh, 67, worked for years as a stonecutter and then a farmer. He managed to send all of his seven children to high school or college.
The indignity and bitterness that come with military occupation are deeply embedded in Kashkeesh’s voice. In Halhul, the Palestinian Authority is, in theory, largely responsible for security. But the Israeli military controls access on the main roads and intervenes when it sees a security threat. The night before my visit, Kashkeesh said, the Israeli army had arrested 10 people for throwing stones at soldiers.
There’s no condoning rock-throwing, let alone terrorist violence. Such tactics have had ruinous consequences for Palestinians, not least in undermining Israeli hope that they ever could live in peace. Hearing the anger in Kashkeesh’s voice, and seeing the sullen faces of young men gathered near his house, was a reminder that Palestinians experience life as a series of daily humiliations. Life here feels closed, embittered, confrontational.
When I first visited Halhul, openly advocating a Palestinian state could get you arrested. Villagers would hide a Palestinian flag disguised as embroidery, or a map of Palestine on the back of a wall photo. Now, the United States is working with Israeli and Palestinian negotiators on a “framework agreement” outlining terms for a peace accord.
continue.
Read entire article here: David Ignatius: In the West Bank, pride has become bitterness - The Washington Post
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