Perfecting the violence of curfew

by Sam Bahour

The sophistication in the methods used by Israel in its systematic 
destruction of Palestinian society today struck a raw cord with every 
Palestinian parent and child.

Only four days have passed since the beginning of the Palestinian school 
year, where over one million Palestinian students returned to their 
classrooms after a summer of living under the direct physical, emotional 
and mental distress of Israeli military rule.

The world community closely watched to see whether Israel would lift the 
24-hour curfew/lockdown that has become routine across the West Bank. 
Israel did lift the total curfew from 6am-6pm to allow the school season to 
start and in order to avoid international criticism. But the world's eye 
had barely blinked and Israel was already escalating its violent practice 
of curfew.

My wife Abeer and I had been preparing our eight-year-old daughter Areen 
for school. She anxiously put on her school uniform and had breakfast.

For her, today was an important day because the textbooks that had been 
delayed on the first day of school (because of military closures and travel 
restrictions) were supposed to arrive and be distributed to the students. 
Areen couldn't wait for her English reading book.

At 7:30am we headed to school. At 7:45am and with a big kiss, I dropped 
Areen off at the Friends School and headed to an 8:00am business meeting I 
had outside of my office. As I usually do in business meetings I turned off 
my mobile phone in order not to be disturbed. I will not turn it off again.

At 9:15am one of the persons in our meeting interrupted to advise us that 
he received word that Israeli tanks and jeeps had entered the city centre 
and were announcing that the cities of Ramallah and Al-Bireh were under 
total military curfew. Israeli jeeps roamed the streets announcing that 
anyone caught in public would be arrested.

By the time I turned on my phone to call my wife three other persons in my 
meeting were already on their mobile phones assessing the situation. Abeer, 
who was at home with our two-year-old daughter, was frantic.

She had been trying to call me after seeing and hearing an Israeli armoured 
personnel carrier on our street announcing the closure. Was Areen in 
danger? Who should go pick her up from school?

How could we go out, given the curfew and military vehicles in the streets? 
Has the school administration advised the students of the situation? How is 
Areen, who is very emotionally sensitive, reacting? Is school still in 
session? These and a hundred other questions rush to mind in such 
predicaments.

Abeer turned on Israeli radio and heard the Israeli plan. The radio 
newscast announced that the Israeli military had put Ramallah under full 
curfew starting from 9am and would only lift the curfew from 1pm-3pm in 
order for parents to leave their workplaces and take their children home.

As if the recent months of varying degrees of Israeli military curfews were 
not enough violence to terrorise the Palestinian society as a whole, the 
Israeli Government created a new and improved curfew — one that would 
ensure that the violence of occupation would come between every child and 
parent.

After getting through to the Friends School's hotline we were assured that 
the gates of the school had been secured and that the school day was going 
to continue as scheduled. Although still a little nervous, we trusted the 
school administration and knew that if they felt the children were in any 
immediate danger they would advise us.

I agreed with Abeer that I would pick up Areen at 2:15pm and the meeting I 
was in was called back into session, albeit slightly less focused.

After the meeting I headed to the office for an hour of work. I had two 
other engagements planned for today, a training session for the Commercial 
Arbitration Centre being established and a seminar titled, "From Re-
occupation to Reform". Both were cancelled.

At 1:45pm we closed our office and everyone headed out to pick up their 
children. I headed home instead to pick up Nadine, Areen's little sister. 
When we left the house this morning Nadine asked if I would promise to pick 
her up to go get Areen from school and both Areen and I agreed with her 
that I would.

I'll be damned if I'm going to let an illegal foreign military occupation 
make me break a promise to my daughters. Nadine was waiting for me at the 
front porch window. She rushed downstairs wearing her new pink tennis 
shoes, a pink hat and had a pink purse strapped across her chest. She was 
ready to hit the town.

Nadine and I arrived at Areen's school a little early and I had the 
opportunity to chat with some of the other parents that were also waiting.

In 20 minutes we all vented our anger and frustration, discussed the 
political situation, and we even joked that all the Israelis had left to do 
now was to publish a daily ad in the newspaper with names of specific 
people that the curfew would be applied to on any specific day.

As the end of day bell rang the students rushed, as always, to the main 
gate. The older students knew what was going on, the younger ones did not. 
Areen came out of her building with a smile from ear to ear and her bright 
pink Jansport backpack on her back.

She waved a big bulky book in the air. It was her new English reading book. 
Nadine gave her sister a big hug and kiss and we were on our way. While 
walking to the car I asked Areen if she heard what was happening with the 
curfew. She had not. She told me that they probably did not tell them so 
they would not be scared.

She asked if she could buy an ice cream cone for her and her sister before 
going home. After quickly stopping for three ice cream cones we headed 
straight home.

We pulled in the driveway at 2:40pm and as we got out of the car an Israeli 
jeep passed on the main Jerusalem Street next to our home yelling through a 
loud speaker, "To the people of Ramallah, the curfew is applied. Anyone in 
the streets will be arrested".

So as the world causally watches the entire Palestinian people being 
terrorised by the most sophisticated form of violence possible — Israeli 
occupation — life goes on.

And as the Israeli military generals dream up new ways to batter 
Palestinians into submission and strip away every sense of public and 
personal security, I will be reading with my daughter the first three pages 
of her new English reading book wondering about tomorrow's curfew schedule.

* * *

*Sam Bahour is a Palestinian-American businessman living in Al-Bireh in 
the West Bank.