Morning

People were queuing to pass through the Bethlehem checkpoint and the soldier on duty signalled them as usual to approach one at a time, not too quickly. During our time there no cars entered Bethlehem. There was no curfew today in Bethlehem and its environs. He bitterly told us that his children have been sitting at home under curfew for many days, unable to go to school, and saying horrible things about Jews to each other: that they oppress and close them in, starve and humiliate them. We went to al-Khadr. No security forces were there this time. On the pile of dirt blocking the road to the town and behind it stood transit vehicles advertising their destinations, but there were few passengers. There were no buses or transits bringing people from the Hebron area. Pupils climbed the hill to their school and a teacher paused in the rain to tell us that the curfew had been lifted at 5:00 and tomorrow school would break for the Moslem feast of Id el-Adha. We continued on to Etzion. There we found something new. People who had arrived by bus from the Hebron area were told to disembark some distance from the checkpoint, so far away that we couldn’t even see the bus. They were lined up on the east side of the long fence dividing the checkpoint area from the road to Beit Fajar on which people usually walk relatively undisturbed. No other buses arrived while we were there. One young man had had his identity card taken from him an hour earlier and the telephone check on him took a long time, as usual. The rain continued. A man came with a permit issued two days earlier, allowing him to drive to Tel Aviv in his own car for business purposes. As he was 33 years old, he was turned back. Another young man who had been told in Hebron to go today to get a magnetic pass at Etzion was also turned back. He said this was the third consecutive day this happened to him. Other incidents similar to these took place as well. Regular conscripts of the Armoured Corps are the soldiers on duty at this checkpoint now. The checkpoint commander calls to each Palestinian : “Doctor, come here.” And he whistles to himself as they speak to him and explain that their passes are valid and they are trying to reach what’s left of their affairs. He jokes around, mocks them and seems in a good mood. At the end of our stay there, at around 9:00, after we had asked him many times, the long awaited telephone call from the General Security Services (Shabbak) arrived. The young man whose identity card had been taken two hours earlier was called to the hut and told by the commander: “Why were you in prison? And why didn’t you go to your appointment with the Shabbak?” The young man spoke only Arabic; the commander spoke only Hebrew. We thought that with such a history the young man would be detained. But a few minutes later his identity card was restored to him and he was allowed to continue on his way. It seems the commander was just joking, in order to frighten himFrom there we went the al-Arroub junction. It was already 9:00. A few residents were hurrying to the bus that was standing at the side of the road, facing south towards Beit Omar. We returned to Jerusalem. The movement of settlers was far from sparse. On the contrary, the road was crowded with vehicles. Some of them confidently tried to hitch a ride with us but we didn’t stop for any of them. Near Tantur we saw about ten people whose identity papers had been taken from them. We stopped. A Border Policeman with three round insignias on his shoulder was offended that we didn’t say shalom or good morning to him, for he and we are not enemies. The Palestinians whose identity papers had been taken were fished out at Beit Tzafafa and now they were being sent to the Bethlehem checkpoint to wait for their papers to be restored. This commander, too, called to the Palestinians: “Doctor, go to the checkpoint.” We asked when the people would get their papers back and he replied that he’s permitted to detain them for up to three hours. But, we insisted, you can detain them for less time. “I can return the papers this very minute,” he said. “So return them quickly,” I said, “because it’s cold and rainy.” “Don’t interfere in my judgment,” he replied firmly. And again he expressed bitterness that we hadn’t said a warm, friendly shalom to him. All in all it was an ordinary morning, only very cold and rainy. And without exceptional incidents.