Gamblor
09-27-2004, 10:01 AM
This guy has been keeping a blog of his miluim (reserve) duty on the Jerusalem Post. (If you don't know, Israelis perform one month of reserve duty per year in the army until they're physically unable to continue, usually around 45)
It's okay, this guy is a bit of a nerd, but this is a good opportunity to get a little insight beyond the usual "Erekat: Zionist entity murders 2 million Palestinians in massacre in Gaza", and the usual European/UN/Arab rhetoric.
His description of the categories of people you meet is uncanny, I laughed when I read it.
by Anshel Pfeffer, Jerusalem Post
The roadblock north of Jericho isn't one of the largest or most well known in the West Bank. It's never featured in the news, and in the three weeks we've been here I have yet to see the good ladies of Machsom-watch turn up to make sure we're treating the Palestinians nicely. But despite its relatively small size, it illustrates completely the complex play of power that goes on constantly at points like these.
We generally hear about the roadblocks when the press or human rights groups uncover another case of abuse by soldiers, who after another long day of hours in the sun, dealing with hundreds of cars and thousands of civilians, decide to vent their frustration violently. But 99 percent of the time, things aren't that clear cut, especially when the soldier standing there aren't 19-year olds but miluimniks, who can sympathize with the pressure that mounts when you're stuck in a car with screaming kids or in a traffic jam late for an important meeting, and who are aware of the way their conduct looks from the outside.
None of us here have any doubt of the absolute necessity of the checkpoints in stopping terrorists or weapons getting into our cities, but most of us have difficulty not seeing ourselves in the parents and working people who spend sometimes up to a couple of hours a day queuing up.
There are two ways of dealing with this kind of feeling. Some just try and block it out, keep to the absolute letter of the regulations and put as little emotion as possible into it. If the orders are to check the insurance of every driver and open all the baggage trunks, you do that, even when the most suspicious mind can have no doubt that the couple with six kids in the back wearing their best clothes really are on their way to a wedding in the next village, just like the 20 cars that have already passed through. You are still going to subject the parents to a small and regular dose of humiliation while you scrutinize their IDs closely and check there's no-one lurking in the back. When someone who's not allowed to pass tries to remonstrate, they avoid eye contact, look past him with a bored look and answer, "that doesn't interest me; those are the orders."
On the other hand, there are those who wear their embarrassment with as clear discomfort as a ceramic body armor, which after 20 minutes has your shirt soaking wet. You can see it in the way they signal the cars to drive forward: they try to look the driver in the eye first instead of just waving imperiously with two fingers. They don't lean against the barrier or swagger across to the car, conscious at all times not to look like a policeman in some banana republic. They say 'shalom' or 'marhaba' when walking up to the car and smile at the children. But then they think to themselves, perhaps by smiling, they're really showing superiority, and you get them with a funny kind of half smile on their faces.
Some alternate between the two attitudes, usually within the space of one 4-hour period. At first, they resolutely follow orders exactly. Then, after seeing people up close, gradually they soften up and go easy. But towards the fourth hour, the effort of standing up all the time with body armor and rifle and a headache from the car horns, exhaust fumes and wining explanations about missing car registration, all take their toll, and your eyes glaze over again.
Also, the behavior of the Palestinians crossing over varies. Amongst the men there are four main types. The most common is the submissive. He's been through this ritual a thousand times. He's afraid of the soldiers. He just wants s to pass as quick as possible. So he puts his head down, hands over his ID before being asked , answers the questions automatically and tries to cause the least offense.
The second kind is friendly. He will use the few Hebrew words he knows while beaming smiles at all the solders at a barrier and inquiring as to their health. He will wait to be asked for his papers and then pass over a whole pile of documents. And he will embarrassingly reciprocate any smiles or kind words offered to him.
The third is the assertive guy. He speaks fluent Hebrew, claims to know all the orders better than you and to have the phone numbers of senior officers. At the beginning he is friendly, but if denied access he will enter into a heated argument until he has to be pushed back.
And then there is the defiant Palestinian. He will scowl at the soldiers while never looking them in the eye. When told to hand over ID, he will pass over only one card, even if six people are traveling in the car. He won't ever stoop to cursing you, but what he thinks is clearly written on his face.
Among the Palestinian men the defiant faction is evidently in the minority, but a clear majority among the women. They sit straight up looking forward, rarely making eye contact and then looking with disdain. It's probably from a mixture of religious, sociological and nationalistic reasons. Most of them are wearing headscarves, and in all our time here, we haven't encountered even one car driven by a woman. They almost always sit in the back. But you get the same baleful stares also from the 'liberated' bare header ones. A few women, though, are also friendly and smile at you. But it gives you a weird feeling as if they're acting cheap.
The only real smiles are from the young generation, who haven't yet been inculcated with hatred. I have yet to see here a Palestinian kid who doesn't return a genuine smile to an IDF soldier.
I'm going to read the rest of them. Yediot Acharonot also had something like this, but I don't think it got printed in English. If I find an English link I'll post it.
It's okay, this guy is a bit of a nerd, but this is a good opportunity to get a little insight beyond the usual "Erekat: Zionist entity murders 2 million Palestinians in massacre in Gaza", and the usual European/UN/Arab rhetoric.
His description of the categories of people you meet is uncanny, I laughed when I read it.
by Anshel Pfeffer, Jerusalem Post
The roadblock north of Jericho isn't one of the largest or most well known in the West Bank. It's never featured in the news, and in the three weeks we've been here I have yet to see the good ladies of Machsom-watch turn up to make sure we're treating the Palestinians nicely. But despite its relatively small size, it illustrates completely the complex play of power that goes on constantly at points like these.
We generally hear about the roadblocks when the press or human rights groups uncover another case of abuse by soldiers, who after another long day of hours in the sun, dealing with hundreds of cars and thousands of civilians, decide to vent their frustration violently. But 99 percent of the time, things aren't that clear cut, especially when the soldier standing there aren't 19-year olds but miluimniks, who can sympathize with the pressure that mounts when you're stuck in a car with screaming kids or in a traffic jam late for an important meeting, and who are aware of the way their conduct looks from the outside.
None of us here have any doubt of the absolute necessity of the checkpoints in stopping terrorists or weapons getting into our cities, but most of us have difficulty not seeing ourselves in the parents and working people who spend sometimes up to a couple of hours a day queuing up.
There are two ways of dealing with this kind of feeling. Some just try and block it out, keep to the absolute letter of the regulations and put as little emotion as possible into it. If the orders are to check the insurance of every driver and open all the baggage trunks, you do that, even when the most suspicious mind can have no doubt that the couple with six kids in the back wearing their best clothes really are on their way to a wedding in the next village, just like the 20 cars that have already passed through. You are still going to subject the parents to a small and regular dose of humiliation while you scrutinize their IDs closely and check there's no-one lurking in the back. When someone who's not allowed to pass tries to remonstrate, they avoid eye contact, look past him with a bored look and answer, "that doesn't interest me; those are the orders."
On the other hand, there are those who wear their embarrassment with as clear discomfort as a ceramic body armor, which after 20 minutes has your shirt soaking wet. You can see it in the way they signal the cars to drive forward: they try to look the driver in the eye first instead of just waving imperiously with two fingers. They don't lean against the barrier or swagger across to the car, conscious at all times not to look like a policeman in some banana republic. They say 'shalom' or 'marhaba' when walking up to the car and smile at the children. But then they think to themselves, perhaps by smiling, they're really showing superiority, and you get them with a funny kind of half smile on their faces.
Some alternate between the two attitudes, usually within the space of one 4-hour period. At first, they resolutely follow orders exactly. Then, after seeing people up close, gradually they soften up and go easy. But towards the fourth hour, the effort of standing up all the time with body armor and rifle and a headache from the car horns, exhaust fumes and wining explanations about missing car registration, all take their toll, and your eyes glaze over again.
Also, the behavior of the Palestinians crossing over varies. Amongst the men there are four main types. The most common is the submissive. He's been through this ritual a thousand times. He's afraid of the soldiers. He just wants s to pass as quick as possible. So he puts his head down, hands over his ID before being asked , answers the questions automatically and tries to cause the least offense.
The second kind is friendly. He will use the few Hebrew words he knows while beaming smiles at all the solders at a barrier and inquiring as to their health. He will wait to be asked for his papers and then pass over a whole pile of documents. And he will embarrassingly reciprocate any smiles or kind words offered to him.
The third is the assertive guy. He speaks fluent Hebrew, claims to know all the orders better than you and to have the phone numbers of senior officers. At the beginning he is friendly, but if denied access he will enter into a heated argument until he has to be pushed back.
And then there is the defiant Palestinian. He will scowl at the soldiers while never looking them in the eye. When told to hand over ID, he will pass over only one card, even if six people are traveling in the car. He won't ever stoop to cursing you, but what he thinks is clearly written on his face.
Among the Palestinian men the defiant faction is evidently in the minority, but a clear majority among the women. They sit straight up looking forward, rarely making eye contact and then looking with disdain. It's probably from a mixture of religious, sociological and nationalistic reasons. Most of them are wearing headscarves, and in all our time here, we haven't encountered even one car driven by a woman. They almost always sit in the back. But you get the same baleful stares also from the 'liberated' bare header ones. A few women, though, are also friendly and smile at you. But it gives you a weird feeling as if they're acting cheap.
The only real smiles are from the young generation, who haven't yet been inculcated with hatred. I have yet to see here a Palestinian kid who doesn't return a genuine smile to an IDF soldier.
I'm going to read the rest of them. Yediot Acharonot also had something like this, but I don't think it got printed in English. If I find an English link I'll post it.