April 15 2024: West-Bank-Wide Settler/Military Assault Reaches Massafer Yatta

To see the broader surroundings around Massafer Yatta, go to B’Tselem’s interactive map and zoom towards the very south of the West Bank.

Editor’s note: on Friday April 12th, a youth from a settler outpost near Ramallah went missing. The next day he was found dead, presumably murdered. Settlers all across the West Bank went on a violent rampage starting the day of the disappearance, with the military more often aiding and abetting rather than do its legal duty and protect residents. The attacks are ongoing.

On Monday April 15th we began our day visiting our friend N. at Susiya, following videos he sent up in which settler boys are seen wandering among the village houses, swearing and spitting in the faces of villagers.

N. told us: “On Saturday (April 13th), several boys came up with cattle and goats belonging to settler A.P to our private, fenced-in grazing ground, which they are forbidden to enter by edict of the regional army commander. We summoned police, but when the policeman came, everyone escaped except for a 12-year-old who remained with the flock. It’s their usual pattern, to send minors with the animals. The policeman caught him and told me he spoke with his mother. I said to him – perhaps you should speak with the owner of the flock?

“On Saturday night, at 4 a.m., the Sussya settlement’s “emergency squad” passed among our houses, banged on doors and windows, and yelled at us to stay indoors. Why? To intimidate us and sow mayhem.”

“Today the boys came again, entered the village and threw stones. A. went out to them and asked ‘Why?’ One of them took out a dagger in reply, saying ‘Want to die?’ They continued wandering among the houses, provoking villagers, throwing chairs and spitting at elderly people. R., A.’s wife, came out to them and they kicked her hard.”

“That whole time, Sussya settlement’s “emergency squad” stood on the road watching over them. Settler Sh.T stood on the other side with his horse and another settler beside him on a motorcycle. All waited for us to react ,so they could leap at us. They saw the boys kicking the elderly woman right there, and did nothing.”

We continued from there to visit the family of Sh., our friend from Maghayir al-‘Abeed. Their village is isolated and small, containing only a single family – Sh. who lives with his wife, son, and two young daughters in the bottom cave, and his elderly mother who lives up the hill with her unmarried daughter. As in other isolated areas, the settlers have targeted Sh.’s family, and harass them daily in order to make them desperate and chase them out.

A settler grazing his flock on Palestinian fields at Maghayir Al-Abeed

We came to hear about the event on Saturday, April 13th, when crowds of settlers came up to his home from all directions. After hearing Sh.’s cries for help on the phone, we notified the army but, as usual, the soldiers who arrived were busy protecting the assailants rather than their victims.
We tried to call up volunteers to stay in the area as a protective presence [or at least as witnesses] – but Israelis were needed elsewhere, and internationals were afraid to come after several of them had been arrested and deported lately. This too is a part of the new policy – arrest activists on false charges, deport them, or simple distance them from the area.

Finally, Noam came, an Israeli friend who lives relatively close by, (this is where we remind our readers that all these horrors are taking place less than an hour away from the Meitar Crossing into Israel). Noam was attacked by the violent settler I.B, known to us from previous attacks. Noam asked the policeman to protect him, but the policeman ignored him and walked away. Noam tried to appeal to the army officer, who in turn beat him up with his weapon and detained him.

At the beginning of the attack, the family members escaped to the nearby village, situated on a steep hill. During our visit there two days later, everyone was still very upset and scared. We asked how the elderly, sickly mother who had already been beaten up by soldiers in the past managed to climb the hill. “Fear gave her energy”, her son answered. “We held her on each side and that’s how she climbed.”

When we climbed to the mother’s home, she said there was no more point to living. She begged to send someone to be with them at night, as she and her daughter cannot sleep.

While we were still there, photos arrived from the nearby village of Tuba. On the previous day, violent settler Y. M who terrorizes the whole area came to their water hole with his flock, and watered it from the water hole that supplies the village with drinking water. With him came another settler on an ATV. They used their weapons to threaten anyone who tried to speak to them.

Children of Tuba in their playground

Today the settlers were back, erected a tent over the residents’ water hole, and raised an Israeli flag. B.T, another violent criminal whose notoriety has even reached the White house, joined them. Meaning: no more drinking water for Tuba’s children. We reported this to the division commander, and he played dumb: “This is a grazing tent, just like dozens of such Palestinian tents, and B.T is an officer commander on the ground.”

At 11 p.m. on Monday, our friends from the small village of Umm Durit (also known as Umm Barid) sent us photos of their vehicle being torched. The settlers have vandalized it several times in the past months. Lately the family had begun to restore it.

We sent the video to the army and asked for soldiers to be sent to protect the family – and this is what happened: the soldiers came masked, pointed guns, immediately gathered all the men of the family, seated them on the ground and began to interrogate them with curses and threats, as if they were suspects.

They called the Palestinians “liars”, blamed them for torching their own vehicle, took their IDs for inspection, and finally left without bothering to ask what had happened or to check the burning car. Naturally they did not enter the nearby outpost, whose inhabitants seem to be responsible for the torching.

A settler grazing his flock on Palestinian fields at Umm Durit

We turned to Central Regional Commander General Yehudah Fucks, and reminded him that the Israeli army is responsible for the welfare of all the inhabitants in the area, including the Palestinians. We have not heard from him yet.

Yair, on behalf of the Villages Group

March 31, ’24: Settlers dressed as Soldiers Continue to Harass and Threaten Bereaved Family in Rakeez

Rakeez is in north-central Massafer Yatta. A larger map of Massafer Yatta can be found here. To see the broader surroundings, go to B’Tselem’s interactive map and zoom towards the very south of the West Bank.

To our friends wherever they be,

These days, incidents with settlers in Massafer Yatta take place all the time, night and day. We, visiting our friends there most days of the week, reach them either before such an attack, after it, or during the attack itself.

We reached the village of Rakeez on Wednesday April 3 at noon. We already knew what had happened there on Sunday, March 31st (when we are not there, we’re still there via phone). Still, it’s important for us to meet face to face – listen, hug, be present… Tell the world in detail about such injustice…

Wednesday. We entered the cave familiar to us as our own home, since we used to visit the late Harun. Noontime. Ramadan month of fasting. They are fasting, yet we are still treated to tasty tea.

F. tells us that on Sunday, back from a condolence visit in the district town of Yatta, father R. and H., his 17-years-old daughter, went out to graze their livestock in their own field, about 100-200 meters away from their house.  From 2 to 4 p.m. the animals nibbled unhampered. At 4 p.m. they were on their way home: the flock with R. and H. and two American volunteers who accompanied them as protective presence. Exactly at that time, the wife and 19-year-old son of a notorious settler disembarked from the green bus that used to be its own outpost near Avigail settlement, but had now been moved to the center of a newly erected outpost several hundred meters away.  As they arrived, they activated three drones – one small, two larger ones – and photographed R. and H. and the volunteers. The drones came to the house entrance. At the same time, about 20 settlers dressed in army clothes and bearing army-issued guns arrived, weapons pointed.  They too came to the house entrance.

“Who’s the owner?” one of them asked, his rifle pointed. R. said he was. They demanded to see his ID. He gave it to them. “Why are the volunteers with you?” asked the settler. “They are our friends”, R. answered. “Why were they taking photos?” the settler continued. R. didn’t answer. “They are prevented from entering your home. And you are not allowed to come with your flock to where you were”, the settler said.

“It’s ours” says R. The settler yells: “This area is not yours, you whore [in Arabic this curse is considered even more vulgar], all Arabs are liars.” R. said he would summon the police. The settler: “The police will do nothing here. Only we are in charge of the region.” As he was saying this, other settlers ordered 17-year-old H. to approach. H. is afraid. She holds on to her mother F.’s shirt.
“You stay where you are”, the settler orders F. “Only she.” He demanded to see her ID. H. said she has none. “Give us an ID or I’ll take her” the settler continued to yell. “She is little, her name is written in mine” says F. and shows her own ID, where her daughter H. is registered. “Where is your son, he is Hamas, and causes trouble like Hamas”. Another soldier said he knew F.’s son and that he had made trouble and the army shot him.

F. knew that soldier. He was one of the soldiers who back then, on that awful Friday, fired the death bullet that wounded Haroun on the first day of 2021. For two years Harun fought for his life. A month and a half ago they marked a year since he died.

“Leave us alone and let us live our lives and graze our flock”, F. said in her quiet, brave determination. “You may not graze there and if you come there again, we shall send father and daughter to prison”, the settler answered, while he ordered them into the cave. “Why?” F. asked. “Come on, get in!” the settler continues to hurry them in and takes the volunteers with him.

Meanwhile, residents of the neighboring village had summoned police, who arrived and freed the volunteers but forbade them to come to Rakeez for the next two weeks.

This is what we were told by F. The whole time, H. sat next to me and her teeth were apparently still chattering from the fear that entered her body and soul three days earlier. This family has already paid for your blindness. What more are you demanding, you Lords of Hatred?

Erella, on behalf of the Villages Group [translated by Tal Haran and Assaf Oron]

March 25 ’24: Mid-Ramadan, Mid-Spring, Resilience and Sumoud in the Midst of Despair

These are the most beautiful weeks of the year, when Massafer Yatta is covered in green, even in a drought year such as this one. The fact that the Ramadan month of fasting falls precisely in spring this year, gives this season a special scent. But the situation is far from idyllic. The war that will very soon mark its sixth month has made unemployment among West Bank residents leap to unprecedented heights, and the salary of Palestinian Authority (PA) employees who are still working has fallen deeper than ever. The settlers, backed up by the government, build outposts on every hill and mountain, and pave roads to connect them, invade with their flocks the tended fields of Palestinian farmers and Bedouins, expel the residents, destroy the crops, and thus finish off any livelihood still left for the local inhabitants.

Our meager joy is the fact that we can still drive along these tracks and can reach our friends on the ground, share their trouble for a short while and try and alleviate it as best we can. Our Ramadan visits begin at noontime and end with the Iftar (breaking the fast) meal that begins around 6 p.m. this year.

On Monday we began our middle-of-the-Ramadan visit at Khashem al-Daraj, a Bedouin village in the heart of the desert east of Massafer Yatta, whose earth is rocky and hardly grows a thing. In the middle of this village stands Huda’s kindergarten-preschool, which we have been accompanying for 14 years. It is a ‘private’ institution, free of charge for its pupils, so the pay to its three employees solely depends on us and on the funds we manage to raise for it – a mission we have been so far successful with due to the ongoing help we get from a Jewish-British fund and supporters who pass their donations to it through the fund. Thanks to this, the kindergarten workers continue to get 100% of their salary, rather than the 30% that PA employees are now receiving. The kindergarten continues its activity five days a week, not only 2-3 days like the kindergartens and schools maintained by the PA.

From Khashem al-Daraj we turned west, entering the Massafer, and went up to Tuba to visit the widow S. and her daughter D. The younger son, I., not yet 16-years-old, usually stays with them. In late October, in one of the settler invasions into the family compound, they dipped A. ‘s cell phone in acid and took his notebooks and textbooks with them. Like the rest of the Tuba schoolchildren, A. did not return to school. The Israeli army has stopped securing these children’s walk to school in a-Tuwani as well as the children of nearby Maghayir al-Abeed. The PA, on the other hand, prevents these children from going to other schools in the area.

A larger map of Massafer Yatta can be found here. To see the broader surroundings, go to B’Tselem’s interactive map and zoom towards the very south of the West Bank.

This extended lull in studies has brought I. to the verge of despair. Over a month ago he decided to join two of his older brothers looking for livelihood beyond the Separation Barrier. The three were caught by soldiers and are charged rather severely of “infiltrating a military zone and collecting leftover ammunition”. S. and D. are now alone in their isolated residence at Tuba. Lately, so we were told, the settlers do not harass and damage them as they were wont to do in previous months.

A possible reason for this relative quiet was revealed to us upon arriving at the nearby locality of Maghayir al-Abeed. Under the aegis of the state and the army, in recent years, the settlers have built outposts at the heart of ‘Firing zone 918’. This is the part of Massafer Yatta which the Israeli army has claimed as a training area vital for the security of the state, for over twenty years of Supreme Court sessions – one of the longest and hardest-fought of Occupation-related legal battles. Now, after the court has ruled in favor of the army and the state, the same army and state help settlers settle inside what they had defined as designated for military use only.

However, in order to fully realize this settlement mission, the Palestinians farmers and shepherds living there must be expelled. In Maghayir al-Abeed only a single family remains, identified by the settlers of the nearby outposts as the weak link, and they have dedicated their worst efforts to it lately. When we got to the village, Sh., head of the family, had not yet gotten back from the Kiryat Arba police station where he had gone to lodge a complaint about settlers attacking him and his family last Saturday. We climbed to the top part of the village, where Sh.’s mother and sister live. These two noble women served us bananas and yoghurt, while they were still fasting as they had been doing for 12 hours.

Their health and strength are seriously impacted not by the fast, but by the unceasing pressure and stress exerted by settlers against them and the rest of the family. Every single day, settlers come down from their outposts on the a nearby hilltop with their flock, and take their animals into the family’s small plots, to feast on the crop that has grown there in wintertime. Then the settlers lower the bucket and bring up water for their livestock from the few water holes that are still left for the family and its needs.

A short while after we descended to the lower part of Maghayir al-Abeed, Sh. returned from Kiryat Arba police station. The policemen there delayed him for over 6 hours before agreeing to record his complaint and hear his testimony about Saturday’s settler assault. They refused to hear the testimony of his brother who had been attacked by settlers at the same event. We wondered where Sh. gets the inner power to report to the police, when its staff only wishes to mock and humiliate him. He did so at the request of the lawyer taking care of Massafer dwellers’ legal affairs.

We ate Iftar that day with our friend M. in the Bedouin village of a-Duqaiqah (Dkeike), also in the desert like Khashem al-Daraj, but further south towards the “Green Line”. As a result of a genetic disorder, M.’s entire body has been paralyzed for over twenty years except for his head. In spite of this condition, M. has served as the Head of a-Duqaiqah’s village council in recent years, and is a familiar and well-liked personage in the entire area. Sh. of Maghayir al-Abeed and his family, too, have been friends with him for years. ‘An Ambassador for Love’- this is how one of our group members called M. in a video he dedicated to him several years ago.

M. indeed showed us his love during the Iftar meal he held in our honor. Still, he and his family did not hide from us their sense of frustration and criticism focusing more on the PA and the person heading it than on Israel and its leaders. M.’s brother, who is a local religious leader, summed it up saying that all the terrible things happening since this war broke out are the ‘Signs of the Hour’, that signal the approach of Judgment Day.

In the shadow of this apocalyptic and conciliatory prophecy, we took our leave of M. and his family and returned home.

Ehud, on behalf of the Villages Group 

March 12 ’24: Ramadan Starts, Harassment by Settler+Military Continues

Most of the friends visited during early Ramadan live north-central Massafer Yatta. A larger map of Massafer Yatta can be found here. To see the broader surroundings, go to B’Tselem’s interactive map and zoom towards the very south of the West Bank.

To our friends all,

On the usual days of occupation, one could make plans. For example – whom do we visit tomorrow, with whom do we share the end-of-fast dinner etc. etc. But these are not usual days. The present days are occupation-on-steroids. This is occupation in wartime, whose soldiers are settlers sent by the nation. The situation has worsened to such a degree that one may hear our friends in Massafer Yatta actually missed the “relaxed and stable” past of normal occupation, which was the norm until October 7th.

The Ramadan month of fasting began on Monday. On Tuesday we planned visits in several villages including the place we intended to dine with a Palestinian family as they break their fast.

We got into the car at noon. With one hand I closed the door, with the other I answered my phone. L. of Umm Darit (aka Umm Barid) was on the line. We had dined there just last night. The wonderful taste had not yet disappeared, my heart was still enjoying our wonderful time with this family. However, in fast trembling words she reported that just this very minute settlers and soldiers had taken the IDs of her husband M. and her son F., and that M. must sit beside them without moving. That the volunteer activists are talking with the soldiers, that the family has called the army, and that all is happening in real time, but she stopped detailing for she had to hang up…

At once we changed our plans and drove to them. When we got there, Israeli volunteers had already arrived in addition to the internationals. We saw the military vehicles leaving. The police instructed them to leave. The internationals had to show their passports and this event ended without injuries.

The settlers have a method: they come on their ATV – two or three of them – and threaten the Palestinians, and immediately alert the army that quickly complies. The police, on the other hand, nearly always arrive at the end. [Even though both the military and the police had solemnly promised M. that they will rush to protect his family when he calls to report a settler aggression]. Our friends of Umm Darit have known harsh treatment by their thieving neighbors, and in fact threatening settler presence is there all the time. And still M. and his family manage to run their lives there.

I stand in the arid field above their home, next to the water hole, opposite M. who has just now shaken off the toxic grab of his haters, and say to him: “Inside of you there is something so stable, unbreakable. You have these inner confidence, wisdom and humility that keep you safe. You are noble.” This is exactly what I told him in the midst of a fasting day as the soldiers and settlers left and the family, including everyone who came to support them, were bustling around us. M. listened to my words, smiling his child’s smile, and answered: “It’s true what you say.”

A tear dropped on my cheek as I listened. A love tear. Love in times of injustice and evil.

We then continued to Tha’ala. We came to Umm Darit at the closing notes of an aggression event. To Tha’ala we arrived before one. We heard about these events as we continued and visited Zakariya, who nearly lost his life in an incident at the outbreak of the war.

We then dined at Rakeez with our friends from the family of Abu ‘Aram, who had paid for these ‘incidents’ with the life of their son – incidents taking place even before this forced war of blindness and hatred, and doubly blind and hateful since October 8th.

How much power does one need in order not to hate the haters.

Erella, on behalf of the Villages Group

3.3.2024: Settlers block Umm-Al-Kheir Family’s Car, then shatter Windshield

Umm-Al-Kheir is in the northeast corner of Massafer Yatta. Even in “ordinary” Occupation times, it is more exposed than other villages to settler and military harassment, due to its location right under Carmel – the region’s first Israeli settlement established on expropriated Umm-Al-Kheir lands – and near a major regional junction. A larger map of Massafer Yatta can be found here. To see the broader surroundings, go to B’Tselem’s interactive map and zoom towards the very south of the West Bank.

Since the outbreak of the war, freedom of movement has been extremely limited for Massafer Yatta residents. Most of the localities are under siege, the roads are blocked, the Israeli army has confiscated and destroyed hundreds of vehicles, and the settlers harass the residents who have not left.

This is why Maryam, our friend from Umm al-Kheir, was delighted when her brother invited her to visit their mother near Hebron. On Sunday March 3, 2024, her brother picked up Maryam and her four children – the oldest seven and the youngest half a year old – and they drove to visit the mother. On their way back they even stopped at a supermarket on the outskirts of Yatta town.

At 8:30 p.m., just before entering their own village, an Israeli vehicle stood on the road and signaled them to stop. The brother slowed down, and they immediately felt a strong impact. A rock was thrown at their car, penetrated the windshield and wounded the brother. The rest, including the baby, were covered with glass smithereens.

They continued driving and reached an army checkpoint. Rattled and distraught, they told the soldiers what had taken place just hundreds of meters from there, but the soldiers did nothing: “These throwers must have sped away, what can one do…” Just try to imagine the soldier’s reaction, had a rock been thrown at an Israeli car near them…

On Monday morning we visited them. Maryam said her eldest son is very scared and refuses to sleep alone. Erella took out a coloring notebook and pencils, and sat down to draw with him.

Erella asked A.: Were you scared when it happened? -Yes.

And you’re still scared? -Yes.

You’re scared at night? -Yes.

What do you do with this scare? – I send it off to Allah, the child answered.

That’s a great idea, Erella said. Allah will probably know how to deal with it,
and you will have a bit less of a scare.

Ya’ir, on behalf of the Villages Group

Mid-Late Feb. 2024: Soldier-Settlers Abduct 3 Locals, Kill Dozens of Sheep

The location of the events described below are marked with crimson-colored frames. To see the broader surroundings, go to B’Tselem’s interactive map and zoom towards the very south of the West Bank.

Greetings to our friends all,

As the blind, hateful, cruel vengeance acts increase everywhere from day to day, including Massafer Yatta, I have a hard time writing. At times a cloud of helplessness blocks my way to my source of strength and I am too exhausted to argue with it. This is why I have not written anything for two weeks. But leaving a blank slate does not do justice to our friends, so I shall write about several encounters:

On Monday, February 12th, we visited Tha’ala. “3 days ago, we took the flock that my cousins and I share out to graze. We got them 200-250 meters from our home towards the wadi, which is registered with all the official echelons including the army as the privately-owned land of the villagers. About 30 soldiers/settlers arrived immediately, and a drone hovered over the flock for an hour to terrorize the sheep. And they were scared. Damages: 30 sheep were hurt, most of them died. Pregnant sheep died giving birth to dead lambs. Other sheep were injured, and now they no longer function. Our heart goes out to these animals, and the financial loss is great – 50,000 shekels.”

This is how Y. describes the assault in his monotonous voice, neither weeping nor raging. He just describes in detail, with precision, trying to be true to what happened and not to what he feels. When I ask him what he feels, he says that what he told us is already what he feels. I told him (as I have told many others in recent weeks) that he is a hero.

Things haven’t been well in Umm Barid, either. The small village of Umm Barid (also known as Umm Darit or Umm Durit) has been a key target of settler harassment in recent months. In November it joined the ranks of Palestinian villages ethnically cleansed by settlers since October 7. Then in January, one family bravely returned to Umm Barid, but has been facing constant attacks and harassment since then.

On Sunday, February 18th, at dusk, L., the mother of the family from Umm Barid called me and said that her husband M. and two sons were kidnapped right next to their home. We arrived there the next morning.

We then heard L.’s detailed description: “M. took our ten sheep out of the house to eat and breathe a bit. Right next to the house, because if they go some meters further out, the settlers from Avigail and its new outpost come and prevent us from grazing. They came so close to the house,” she emphasizes. “Two of them. One on an ATV and the other on a motor scooter. They were dressed as civilians. And they began to threaten M. and a drone scattered the flock. M. called the police immediately, but there was no answer.” [Upon his return to Umm Barid, M. has arranged with the police that if there are any problems with settler attacks he should call them; they promised to arrive right away].

“The older children came out and threw stones at the sheep in order to gather the scared flock that had scattered. The whole time a drone continued to hover above. Then more colonists arrived, with army uniforms and guns, and shackled M. and his son N. (21 years old), blindfolded them and took them to who knows where. Then ten of them entered the house and I was so scared. They searched and left. There were Israeli volunteers on their way to come and spend the night with us, but the settler-soldiers blocked them. In the end everyone left and the volunteers arrived.”

On our way there Monday morning, we heard from the lawyer that they are at the police station.

At noon M. returned (luckily, I had the thousand shekels that were needed as bail to let him go), but N. and his brother remained in custody. According to the draconian Occupation rules, they can remain jailed for 18 days without access to a lawyer (a repression method that may have been relaxed somewhat over the years, but is now applied again in full force in the West Bank; meanwhile, residents taken from Gaza can now be held for 180 days without access to legal help). And the court can discuss their case before they see a lawyer.

They are accused of throwing stones at the ATV. There is drone documentation, presumably. There are also drone photos of settlers entering a privately-owned area and threatening, blocking, beating, and kidnapping. But the settlers didn’t show these to the police when they hurried to lodge their false complaint, quick to do so before anyone files a genuine complaint against them. On March 6 the two brothers were released after these 18 days have passed – but the release required a bail of 5000 Shekels each, which we have helped pay. They might still face indictment and an arrest warrant.

On Wednesday, February 21st, we visited Majaz. A raid took place there a week earlier, of a kind we (who have been roaming this area for over 20 years) have not ever witnessed before.

First, we met our friend from Fakhit. He said that on his way home with his family from a doctor’s appointment in Yatta, the district town, the well-known settler from the area stopped him. This person now has the authority of a military commander, another one who was with him in the car, said to me: ‘I’ll kill you’. “This settler came to Fakhit around 4 p.m. in his jeep,” our friend continued, “and a silver Silverado vehicle with settlers came as well. Below the village, a military helicopter arrived, filled with soldiers, and dropped them off there. They were all masked. The soldiers walked towards Majaz. The helicopter brought more soldiers twice and had them land around Majaz on all its sides, and inside the village too. The jeep and the other vehicle are already in Majaz. And their drone films everything.”

At this point we had already arrived at Majaz village and continued to hear what the villagers had to say. (I wrote it down verbatim, whoever spoke knew Hebrew quite well, and I wrote down everything they said in Arabic as well. I skipped some details in order to quote the main issues).

“The soldiers came to Khalat al-Amur, a house a bit distant from the village, and took old Sheikh Khaled al-Amur and his son Abed. They shackled and blindfolded them, and walked them to a fence quite far from there, and from there drove them to the army camp near Jinba. An investigating officer there ordered the soldier-settler to take the old man and his son back home. Earlier, while shackling them, the soldier-settlers broke nearly everything breakable in the house. They threw down food, cut the feed sacks and killed several sheep.“

“At 8 p.m. they left Majaz, and at 10 p.m. came back, by helicopter again. They arrived at the mosque. A neighbor holding the key to the mosque said he’d give them the key, but they answered: ‘We’ll use our own methods’, and broke the mosque doors. Inside they broke other things – windows, the electric system and more. Then they began to sing through the mosque’s public address system: ‘Bring sugar, bring sweets, come to fix the broken things.’ While some of the soldier-settlers were inside the mosque, others took away the neighbor’s tractor license and ruined the tractor itself. They cut his tent with a knife and beat him up. Thus, to all the neighbors in the village.”

“They collected the cell phones of every single one of the villagers and their IDs, and threw them at the end of the village. No one was allowed to utter a word. They took money, work tools, firewood, a tent from the school, collected them all in a sack and took the sack with them. The soldier from the helicopter behaved differently from the soldier-settlers and not everyone had masks on. At 2 a.m. all the colonists who had been in the village got on their vehicles and left for Mitzpe Yair outpost.”

These things were told to us continuously and precisely and without hatred. Without a feeling of revenge. Their eyes, only, reflected great pain and the voice of the narrators trembled.

We parted. We’ll be back.

These are some of the things that happened on the ground during two weeks in February. Just a small sample of many other stories to tell.

Erella, on behalf of the Villages Group [translated by Tal Haran and Assaf Oron]

Early Feb. 2024: Settlers Carve Unauthorized Road in Susiya through Private Palestinian Fields

Last week Villages Group activists visited both eastern (map below) and western (map further down) Massafer Yatta. A larger map of Massafer Yatta can be found here. To see the broader surroundings, go to B’Tselem’s interactive map and zoom towards the very south of the West Bank.

Dear friends,

Again, I sit in front of the empty computer screen, and have a hard time deciding what to tell you now. Every hour, every day, difficulties and crimes pile up even in Massafer Yatta, and there is no justice, no pay, we cannot even help, not to mention rescue.

Since the present war broke out, our permanent aid (helping with studies and professional courses) has been augmented with existential needs of a population now denied the possibility of making a living. We can still bring them pampers and milk powder for babies, basic food for families, medication and the like – thanks to your donations, dear friends! – but we cannot affect the trampling, power mongering settlers and the government’s policy (army, police, Civil Administration). These now multiply basic needs and our abilities diminish. Sometimes I think that even Sisyphus would give up…

What we do unconditionally is maintain a discourse in which our friends, and we, might find a source of strength.

Early this week we visited our friends in Taban. A. said that for a few days, settlers did not bring their flocks to graze in Taban’s farmland. “And now on Saturday again they came,” he continued. “Their large flock dined on the barley we had sown in our fields, and which had just begun to sprout.” A familiar pain between smarting insult and helplessness took over the room. Into this silence, I said: “You are brave people.” They asked me why I say this, and I answered it was because they manage to control themselves and not take revenge.  I googled and found the 2006 poem “Revenge” by Taha Muhammad Ali, and asked young F. to read it aloud in Arabic for those present:

At times … I wish
I could meet in a duel
the man who killed my father
and razed our home,
expelling me
into
a narrow country.
And if he killed me,
I’d rest at last,
and if I were ready—
I would take my revenge!

*

But if it came to light,
when my rival appeared,
that he had a mother
waiting for him,
or a father who’d put
his right hand over
the heart’s place in his chest
whenever his son was late
even by just a quarter-hour
for a meeting they’d set—
then I would not kill him,
even if I could.

*

Likewise … I
would not murder him
if it were soon made clear
that he had a brother or sisters
who loved him and constantly longed to see him.
Or if he had a wife to greet him
and children who
couldn’t bear his absence
and whom his gifts would thrill.
Or if he had
friends or companions,
neighbors he knew
or allies from prison
or a hospital room,
or classmates from his school …
asking about him
and sending him regards.

*

But if he turned
out to be on his own—
cut off like a branch from a tree—
without a mother or father,
with neither a brother nor sister,
wifeless, without a child,
and without kin or neighbors or friends,
colleagues or companions,
then I’d add not a thing to his pain
within that aloneness—
not the torment of death,
and not the sorrow of passing away.
Instead I’d be content
to ignore him when I passed him by
on the street—as I
convinced myself
that paying him no attention
in itself was a kind of revenge.

Nazareth, April 15, 2006 [ Translated by Peter Cole, Yahya Hijazi and Gabriel Levin ]

After this there were no more questions. Only the head nods, agreeing.

Later in the week we visited A. in the outskirts of Susiya. Settlers of Sussya settlement and its satellites have now been harassing A. and his aging parents daily (I wrote about him in past reports). Last Saturday, February 3, 2024, wildcat settler “road work” began, paving a track through his own farmland, the same land the settlers have prevented him from tending since the outbreak of the current war. They just brought a bulldozer and began carving the land. They work at night. As usual, there is no justice. No one to turn to. We sat in the morning sun with A. and his father, next to what would be a house when A. would be able to afford completing its construction. We saw the injustice with our own eyes.

So much sadness was in their eyes, and no rage. I heard myself telling A. what I had already said in Taban this week, and for the second time this week I was asked why I said this. I told A. the Taban story and gave him the same poem, printed out.

When he was done reading, he said: “We don’t think about revenge. We think about ways to stay on our land. We would gladly live in peace with our neighbors. But they do not want this.”

A. speaks very little, if ever. I never heard him utter so many words at once. Every word is golden and when I write them, they are etched in my heart.

I send them to you with much love.

Erella, On behalf of the Villages Group [translated by Tal Haran, except for the poem]

Upcoming Event, Feb. 17 in Berlin with Ehud of the Villages Group

Dear friends and supporters, 

Below is an introductory comment I wrote for the Villages Group’s presentation in Berlin due to take place next weekend (17.2). For details see the poster.

Ehud, on behalf of the Villages Group

The Villages Group is a small-scale group of volunteers that defies any national chauvinistic attitude and embraces the practice of a humanistic approach. Consequently, in the context of the Israel-Palestinian conflict, members of the group reject their categorization as either pro-Israeli or pro-Palestinian, considering themselves pro-human. The murderous actions taken by the extremist Hamas movement and the extremist Israeli government on the 7^th of October and its aftermath, presented in full the disastrous implications inherent in the national chauvinistic attitude. Facing this dire reality, the members of the Villages Group have intensified their long-term engagement with Palestinian Shepherd communities in the rural region of south Mt. Hebron in the West-Bank. In my presentation, I’ll try to explain what it means for us, in practice, to hold fast to the humanistic attitude, in times when the chauvinistic inhumane attitude reigns supreme.

Jan. 21-27: Umm Barid Family attempts to return Home, and Settlers Poison their Water Source

This week’s visits were to friends in north-central Massafer Yatta. A larger map of Massafer Yatta can be found here. To see the broader surroundings, go to B’Tselem’s interactive map and zoom towards the very south of the West Bank.

Dear friends,

Another week has gone by since our last report. Seasonal rains are falling almost on time, the wheat is growing again, and the list of the killed and wounded, the suffering people and the refugees has been growing longer and longer as though it too belongs to nature’s laws… Darkness is thicker now, and it’s hard to remember where light comes from into this world.

Emerging out of this darkness, we keep visiting our friends in Massafer Yatta. There’s not enough room on the page to write in detail the events that keep piling up even in a single hour, let alone a week. “The situation” boils down to thousands and thousands of events ,with names and addresses of real people who pay the price for others’ hatred and aggression. The lawless haters have names and addresses as well, but in these parts the “rule of law”, too, belongs to them, so they walk around caged in their ignorance and free to perpetrate anything their hateful heart desires.

The modest home of M. and his family from Umm Barid has already been demolished four times by settlers since the war started (See also our most recent report on this family and their home). This week the family completed renovating their home, the greenhouse, and the fruit tree grove for the fifth time. They are not allowed to tend their fields in the valley because of settlers’ rule. They plowed and sowed the field next to their home, and the wheat is growing again, and the settlers bring their flocks there to graze and destroy the wheat again. And still, this week the family returned home. During the first few nights two Israeli volunteers joined them, and the first three nights passed peacefully. We visited them later in the week. I brought them more mandalas to color, and taught them “Taki” (one of those table games… a variation on the American game of Uno). They say it helps them to relax a bit after their working hours in the field and at home.

During the night between Wednesday and Thursday, on January 25th, in fact exactly on Tu BiShvat, the Jewish New Year of Trees, settlers from the nearby outpost came and poured diesel and engine oil into the cistern above M.’s house, and ruined the water pump engine.

We were there the next day. Outside the wind blew wild and it was very cold. We sat with them around the ‘Soba’ (fireplace), L. made food, her daughters-in-law helped, one son who had kept night-watch duty was sleeping, and M. and the rest of his sons sat with us. There was this kind of silence filled with mutual attentiveness, and I – still trying to control my anger – asked M. again: “Where do you get your powers from, where do you hide your rage?” M. hears me out, and in the most natural of ways, answers: “Tomorrow we shall take out the dirty water from the well, clean it, and the next days’ rain will fill as much as it will. God willing.” My mind is emptied of the remains of my rage. There is no hatred in this man, no thoughts of revenge. I also tell myself that he is the source of light cutting through the darkness that closes in on the world, and they are already distributing the “Taki” cards among us.

From Umm Barid we proceeded to visit the family of the late Harun. As written in one of our recent reports, a few weeks ago they returned to their home in Rakeez, having been displaced for two months for fear of the Avigail and Havat Ma’on settlers.

Benevolent coincidence had us meet our friends Giora and Har’el there. About a decade ago, Giora – born and raised in our kibbutz, Shoval – asked us how he could help our friends in Massafer Yatta. We raised the problem of firewood for the fireplace that the area’s inhabitants need for warmth and cooking, especially in the winter months. [this region has high elevation and strong winds, combining for rather chilly winters.] Although Giora has been living for years in Kibbutz Samar in the ‘Arava Valley (near Eilat), he has met the challenge. He recruited Har’el, another Samar member, and the two have been on the five-hour road from Samar to Massafer Yatta and back quite a few times every year, bringing firewood with them for several of the poorest families in the area. In recent months, they have done so in collaboration with our friends No’am and Gali who live on a farm in the Northern Negev.

After they finished unloading the firewood, Giora and Har’el together with No’am entered the family cave at Rakeez and shared the tea we were served. In his own manner, Giora tried to encourage the father of this long-suffering family, sharing with him his forecast that this suffering will come to an end in the not-so-distant future, because the nationalist adventures of Jews in this country always end rather soon in historical terms.

After some minutes, having finished their tea, Giora and Har’el took their leave from the family and from us and went on their long way to their own kibbutz in the desert. Next week they intend to come back, carrying another load of firewood for other families.

Erella and Ehud, on behalf of the Villages Group [translated by Tal Haran and Assaf Oron]

Jan. 13-17: Settlers Assault 74-year-old Maghayir al-‘Abeed Widow, Rob her of her Lambs

On Monday, Villages Group activists visited  eastern Massafer Yatta. A larger map of Massafer Yatta can be found here. To see the broader surroundings, go to B’Tselem’s interactive map and zoom towards the very south of the West Bank.

To all our friends,

We sit – Ophir, Yo’av, and me – with 74-year-old N. and her 36-year-old daughter G., by their beautiful hillside cave and modest dwelling in Maghayir al-‘Abeed. I spotted colorful balloons hanging from a pole, and wondered why. “It was beautiful, like today, so we made a celebration for the beautiful day”, answers G. “And how has it been with the settlers?” I ask. “The last few days were quiet, hamdulillah“, answers G.

N. said she is afraid all the time. G., too, says they live in fear all day, every day. We sat there for a long hour, coddled by the winter sun. It seemed that fear, too, is being mollified. That was on Monday, January 15.

We then visited Taban, also in Massafer Yatta a couple of hills to the south. We saw young A., who is studying to be a veterinarian with our support.

On Wednesday morning, the 17th, we had to visit Maghayir al-‘Abeed again – Ehud, Yohi, Irena and myself – because a few hours earlier, at 2:30 AM, three settlers kicked open the door of the room where N., G., and G’s 14-year-old son S. were sleeping their fearful sleep. The settlers immediately turned to 74-year-old N. who sleeps to the right of the entrance. “WHERE IS YOUR HUSBAND????” they roared. As N. tries to sit up and reply, one of them hits her face with a fist. “There is no husband”, she answers. He roars again: “WHERE IS YOUR HUSBAND????”, she tries to answer again – and again a fist into her face. Thus, three times, with the addition of kicks to her legs. [a defenseless 74-year-old widow]

N. tells them her late husband had passed away, and they scream at her “SHUT UP!!!” Meanwhile, outside there are noises, and G. tells us “I look out the window and see more settlers outside, at least 5 of them, and they are robbing lambs out of our lamb pen. They stole 10 lambs, their moms looked for them and cried in the morning when we took them out to pasture.”

G.’s voice breaks as she finishes her report. “They took my mom to the hospital in an ambulance an hour ago” she adds. I gather up all my forces to be efficient. I send a summary of G.’s report of the crimes to a lawyer who had already heard of the assault, and try to convince 14-year-old S. to help take his mother to the police after visiting the hospital, to file a complaint. S. said that from his family’s experience, Palestinians filing a complaint about settler crimes leads either to nothing – or to the Palestinians themselves being charged… “One still must file a complaint after such a crime”, I said, yet my heart shrank even further knowing he is right.

This makes me think of A., the vet-school student from nearby Taban. After graduation he will be able to cure animals, but [unless we change the political reality] he will not be able to return even one stolen lamb to its owners. How does one cure such evil?

We continued westward, to A.’s home near Susiya. Last month I wrote about how settlers from Israeli Sussya and the surrounding land-grabbing outposts prevent A. from plowing and sowing his lands, how they send their herds to graze in his pastures right next to his home, and how they drive their ATVs every night around the cave where A. lives with his elderly parents.

A. informed us about recent events.

“Last Saturday January 13 2024, in the afternoon, three settlers arrived by car to the road near my home. Two wore uniform and the other one did not. One of the ‘militarized’ settlers had his face masked. At the time, I was working a little above the cave near the home I’m building now so that my wife and kids can return.” [A.’s wife and two of his children were injured in a road accident. They still undergo surgeries, and wait until A. finishes to build the home, because in their former cave they will not be able to function with their new disabilities.]

“The settlers drove fast towards me so I filmed them – if they assault me, at least it will be documented. They got off the vehicle, walked towards me, took my phone and started beating me up. As they did so they also blindfolded and handcuffed me. They beat me with their fists in the ribs, on the forehead, in the face. Then they took me into their vehicle and continued to beat me up there too. They took me to their most recently built outpost, the one closest to my home.”

“Then the military arrived but did nothing. I could not see, but could hear them talking with the soldiers. Then they took me into the military base near Susiya and beat me up again, before leaving me outside the base. They returned my phone after deleting everything. I walked from there to a doctor in Yatta.” [at least an hour’s walk]

A. told us this 4 days after the assault. We noticed the healing wounds on his face. “Does it still hurt?” I asked. “Ya’ni...” he said, “Less, it’s passing.” “You still look pained”, I whispered to him. “That’s from the wound in the heart”, said A. who does not speak much.

Erella, on behalf of the Villages Group [translated by Assaf]