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September 2001
Dear Friends and Relations,
As the long, hot Middle Eastern summer wends its way into the
month of September, everyone I encounter these days hopes not
only for a respite to the suffocating heat, but also an end to
the cycle of violence that has permeated this past year. Make
no mistake about it, however! No one is proposing "going
back" to a situation of conditions and circumstances that
existed prior to September 29, 2000, as if that were somehow an
acceptable alternative. What should have become clear to most
everyone by now is that Ariel Sharon’s provocative visit
to the Haram al-Sharif (Noble Sanctuary) last fall was only the
spark that lit the fuse. The tension, frustration, humiliation
and disillusionment that had become part of day-to-day life for
every Palestinian—man, woman and child—has only intensified
during the past year. With an ever-increasing death toll amongst
the Palestinian population, their resolve to continue to struggle
against the Israeli occupation strengthens.
Remembrance placards of young, Palestinian men and boys killed
by Israeli gunfire and deliberate assassinations now plaster the
walls of shops and buildings throughout Palestinian cities of
the West Bank and Gaza Strip, changing almost daily like movie
posters at a cinema. Their faces are familiar faces—a father
here, a son there—a shopkeeper, a teacher, a child, a friend.
They have become daily reminders of the tragic loss of life this
appalling conflict has exacted. They have become not-so-subliminal
symbols to the living that ultimately induces more incitement,
more protests and more violence, all aimed at what is hoped will
bring an end to the Israeli occupation of their homes, their lands,
and their lives.
On Sunday, 6 May, Beit Jala witnessed some of the most intense
Israeli shelling to date. Palestinian Christian parishioners sat
in their churches that morning and listened as the unending blasts
from Israeli tanks and volleys of submachine gun fire were directed
towards this predominantly Christian village from the Israeli
settlement of Gilo. During the seven-hour assault, six-year old
Nicola Abu Ghanam, an only child, had his left arm severed from
his body by an Israeli mortar shell as he was returning home with
his mother. Attempts by doctors to re-attach his lifeless arm
failed, and eventually the arm had to be re-amputated.
Children have not been spared the trauma that this conflict has
wrought. Nightly shooting and shelling has raised the anxiety
levels of children to unhealthy states. Bed-wetting has become
a common phenomenon amongst children who, fearing for their safety,
refuse to get out of bed during nights of heavy gunfire. Parents,
fearing for their children’s lives, have often had to flee
areas of conflict, and have sought shelter with other family members
elsewhere. Many have expressed real concern not only for the physical
well-being of their children, but also for their mental and emotional
state. "It is difficult to teach my children not to hate
Jews", one Palestinian Christian man said to me recently,
"while nightly we are exposed to Israeli firing and tanks."
"You can fool them sometimes, but eventually they will know
that you are lying about the intention of Israeli planes and helicopters
circling overhead."
On May 18, and in an unprecedented move, Israel used American
made-and-supplied F-16 fighter jets to bomb Palestinian police
stations in the West Bank cities of Ramallah and Nablus following
a suicide bombing in Tel Aviv that left 20 Israelis dead and scores
more injured. It was the first time since the 1967 Six-Day War
that F-16 jets were deployed by Israel in the West Bank. The deaths
in these bombing raids of the 12 Palestinians, who had nothing
to do with the Palestinian suicide bomber who blew himself up
in Tel Aviv, did little to lessen the loss of Israeli families
whose relatives died in that attack. It certainly did not appease
Palestinian resentment at an Israeli government that appears to
have no real solution to the conflict, except by reverting to
the use of unrestrained and unbridled military might against a
largely unarmed Palestinian civilian population. Yet Palestinians
cannot and should not be expected to endure the continuous violence
characterized by the Israeli occupation, and the horror and brutality
of siege, without struggling against it.
The summer’s hostilities culminated with the Israeli army’s
incursion into Beit Jala in the early morning hours of 28 August.
The entire Bethlehem, Beit Sahour, and Beit Jala region endured
nightly shooting and shelling attacks that began at dusk and lasted
until dawn for three straight days, with little or no lull. Long,
sleepless nights were commonplace, as tank shells exploded and
submachine gun fire echoed throughout the night, and the Israeli
army and Palestinian militias faced off in intense gun battles
that took the already volatile conflict to a new and dangerous
level.
When the guns finally fell silent, the calm and quiet that settled
over the Bethlehem region was almost as deafening as the Israeli
tank shells that had pounded the area on previous nights. Just
after nightfall on 30 August, I stood in front of my window in
Bethlehem and gazed down on the now silent town of Beit Sahour—The
Shepherd’s Fields. Rather quizzically, I was reminded of
the gentle words of reassurance that heaven-sent angels first
pronounced to poor, humble shepherds in this same region so long
ago: "Do not be afraid".
In Christ,
Doug Dicks
The 2001 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p. 143
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