The Stations of Shaadi

13 March, 2008

The South Hebron Hills are a place of great beauty. Gazelles roam the hillsides, birds are abundant in the sky. When you look out over the hills you can see ancient Palestinian villages where people are still living a simple, subsistence lifestyle. They have flocks of sheep and goats. They market lambs, and the women make delicious cheese and butter. In springtime, the valleys are brilliant green with crops of wheat and barley.

But this beauty is marked with pain. As you look out across the horizon now, you also see the unmistakable mark of Israeli settlements*. They appear as modern suburban developments dropped down on the hilltops in this rugged terrain. Settlement outposts extend the reach of these settlements, and confiscate increasingly more Palestinian land exclusively for Israeli use. Religiously zealous, ideological and violent settlers threaten and attack anyone who dares draw near. Palestinian shepherds here find they have less and less land to graze their flocks, and must take grave risks when they do.

As we accompany these shepherds, they often speak of the stories this landscape holds for them. They speak of the land they knew as children; the places they used to roam; the valleys their fathers and grandfathers used to graze the flocks. Recently, as we accompanied one shepherd, Shaadi, he pointed out some of the landmarks in his memory along the way.

From high on a hilltop, we can see the nearby settlement and outpost. Although he does not mention it, we are looking across at a place where his children have been repeatedly attacked while walking to school. He continues to send his children to school, knowing that to do so is defiance of the violence and threats to push him and his family off of their land.

As we pause at the cistern to water the flocks, he recounts the time when three masked settlers from the outpost attacked him and his young son while they were watering the sheep. The settlers arrived in a truck and began firing stones at them with a slingshot. They broke the legs of two of his sheep. His nine year old son was also hit by the rocks. Shaadi tried to comfort his son, who would not speak after the attack.

When he called the Israeli police to report the attack, the police refused to come to the village to take his report saying they were afraid of the settlers, “We are only two police. We need a whole army to go in there. The settlers will break our windows.” Shaadi replied, “If you are afraid of the settlers, how do you think I am?”

A short walk later, we pass by the place where three years ago a settler from the illegal settlement outpost Havat Maon, stole fifteen sheep from his flock. Despite filing a police report, including video evidence of the entire incident and eyewitness testimony from an international observer, no charges were filed against the settler.

As we approach his home, he talks about the forced removal of several hundred people from this area. On April 7, 1998 over one hundred families in the area, including Shaadi’s, were served orders to abandon their homes by April 12^th. In a dark irony, the deadline given was Easter Sunday. The families refused to leave. The military confiscated their meager belongings, and offered to return them if they agreed to leave. They refused.

Shaadi’s home is a simple place, closely connected with the homes of his extended family. But even home is a place of scarred memories. Settlers have come and attacked his family. Shaadi shares the painful memory of the time when armed settlers came to the village, and started shooting. His mother was shot in the leg, and his brother was also wounded. For him and his family, there is no safe place of refuge.

As is typical in the area, they once had a toilet out-building adjacent to the house. In May of 2006, the Israeli Civil Administration issued a demolition order for the toilet. A few days later a bulldozer came and destroyed it. He has not been allowed to rebuild it. It seems even the basic human dignity and privacy of a toilet will be denied him.

Shepherds in this area continue to face violence and threats on a daily basis. In January of this year, while Shaadi was out grazing his flocks with a few other local shepherds, settlers came out from the outpost and fired six shots at them. The flocks scattered, and the shepherds fled. The Israeli police refused to respond, saying they ‘had better things to do”.

A few weeks ago, Shaadi was one of several shepherds that went to graze their flocks in a valley called Mshaha, south of the illegal settlement outpost, Havat Maon. They went together as an act of resistance to threats and violence from the settlers. They went to recover the use of their land, and find sustenance for their flocks.

On this day, Israeli soldiers arrived and demanded that the shepherds leave. The shepherds responded that this was their land, and that they wanted to appeal to the commander to decide the issue. Settlers from the outpost also came and spoke with the soldiers. The soldiers ran toward the flocks and kicked several sheep, trying to drive them away. Many of these shepherds reported injuries to their sheep, including broken teeth, and internal bleeding. Shaadi lost two lambs later that week from injured ewes.

As we were finishing up this long walk, we paused along the way as a young lamb was born. Shaadi tended gently and expertly to the newborn, and invited us back to his house for a meal. We rejoiced in the new birth, hopeful that this might be finally a sign of new life for him and his family.

* ‘Settlements’ refers to Israeli only housing built within the occupied Palestinian territories. Settlements are all illegal according to international law. Settlement outposts are illegal under international law, as well as under Israeli law.