Death of a Village
Yigal Bronner
When the settlers moved in on the Palestinian village of al-Mu’arrajat, we all knew what was coming next. It has happened again and again throughout the West Bank. Encroachment, harassment, theft and terror, until the unhidden goal is achieved: cleansing the area of non-Jews. Still, my fellow activists and I could not stop trying. So at 10:30 p.m. on 2 July, some of us drove out of Jerusalem on the twisting road down to the Jordan Valley. Al-Mu’arrajat is named after those curves. Or it was.
In the evening, several dozen settlers from nearby outposts gathered in the village. Some arrived with camping gear, others brought a herd of sheep. Then they broke into the Palestinians’ houses. In one, they took furniture out to the veranda, sat down and made themselves at home. Another group drove a herd of sixty goats and sheep from Ibrahim’s pen and led the animals out of the village, never to be seen again. A third group cut the electricity supply to one of the houses. There were only women and children inside. Terrified that their home might be set on fire, they fled with only the clothes on their backs. The settlers moved in and stole cash and valuables.
The leaders of this well-orchestrated attack – men from surrounding settlements and outposts – were on site, giving orders. But most of the attackers were teenagers, the so-called ‘hill youths’ who spearhead Israel’s growing movement of Jewish supremacy.
We arrived at the village after the herd of sheep was stolen but before the attack on the house with its electricity cut. The police had been called but were nowhere to be seen. I called them at 11:48 p.m. They said that they were on their way. I called again at 12:34, explaining in detail the danger to Palestinian families, to activists (settlers were throwing stones at my colleagues and hitting them with clubs) and to property. ‘What are you waiting for?’ I asked. ‘For some calamity to happen? Why don’t you send a police car? We have called you repeatedly!’ I was rebuked for sounding hysterical and told to wait patiently, as the security forces were on the way. Others had called and received similar answers. The police never showed up.
In Jerusalem, a lawyer representing the village was preparing an urgent request to the Israeli Supreme Court to issue an injunction that would compel the police and army to remove the invading settlers. She was sending us frantic requests for live updates. We were sending frantic responses. The appeal was submitted the next day, but the Supreme Court justice Alex Stein said he found no reason to intervene, since it was assumed that law enforcement would act to protect order. The lawyer appealed but was rejected again. There would be no intervention from the police, the army or the courts, as the settler leaders knew there wouldn’t. They told the Palestinians they had 24 hours to leave, or else.
The residents knew the drill. They have seen it all over the West Bank. In late May, the same thing happened in Maghayer al-Dir: settlers established an outpost in the village, attacked the residents and robbed their houses; there, too, the police, army and courts did not intervene as the settlers issued their ultimatums. Villagers who were too slow in packing their belongings were beaten by the settlers and several were hospitalised with serious injuries. The residents of al-Mu’arrajat – who had friends and family in Maghayer al-Dir – did not wait till morning to pack. Within 24 hours, the settlers’ ultimatum was met. The houses were dismantled, the essentials packed and moved, the school emptied. All 250 residents were gone.
I have come to know some of them well over the past five years. I would speak to Alia whenever I started a night-shift, so she would know whom to call in case of an emergency. Suliman would call me almost every night, when the settlers were banging on his door. They were harassed, encroached on and terrorised; settlers set fire to the village mosque; and yet they kept their dignity. I saw the villages around them fall one by one, and yet they hung on. But now they, too, are scattered, homeless, uprooted.
The settlers, meanwhile, are celebrating yet another victory on social media: the removal of another community of ‘enemies’ or ‘invaders’, as they call the people whose land and homes they have invaded and occupied. The entire area of the Jordan Valley has been Judaised.
When a person dies, there are mourning rituals to help us, and people who can guide us in grieving for those we have lost. But what do you do when an entire village is erased, when a whole way of life is destroyed? Especially when no one around you even seems to notice, let alone care?
Al-Mu’arrajat is no more.