Twenty Israeli military vehicles and two bulldozers have been occupying the village of Sieda in the northern Tulkarem district since early this morning placing the village under curfew and conducting house to house searches.
Electricity and the water supply in the village have been cut off. The Israeli military has closed all entrances to the village and are occupying the boys' school. Two family homes, belonging to Mohammed Zaki Raddad and Hussein Raddad are also occupied. Villagers fear that the bulldozers are there to demolish the homes of families of men wanted by the Israeli army. Volunteers from Canada, England and Denmark, who work with the International Solidarity Movement, are present in the homes where the Israeli soldiers are occupying the roof and ground floor of the homes, trapping the family inside on one floor. Israeli soldiers have invaded the village every night since the Eid, searching homes and harassing villagers. The soldiers have told the villagers they intend to remain in the village for at least three days.
Peace Talks? Bring them to Seida, Please! By Aaron Lakoff January 30, 2005 – Seida, Palestine
For the last seven days, I have been in the Palestinian town of Seida. Seida's 3500 residents sit between the cities of Tulkarm and Jenin in the West Bank. For four long and difficult days, I witnessed Seida under military curfew.
Curfew is an unnatural, inhumane thing. It is unnatural because it renders a city's streets bare. No children playing marbles, no shopping for fresh fruit, no walks to the mosque for prayer. Seida was empty like streets in the wild west before a shootout at sundown. A dead city. Cue the tumbleweed.
Curfew is inhumane because it is a mass military tactic aimed at collectively punishing. While there were eight wanted men alleged to have been in the village, the whole population had to suffer the consequence. The city's fragile economy lies still, and no one can get to work. Children can't get to school, and young men and women are racked with nervousness about missing their final exams at university. Livestock go unfed, and sheep bray incessantly in pain. Ambulances need permission to get to injured children. These are all examples from the last week in crippled Seida.
As each day of the curfew passed, the situation became more severe. The first day was a shock to everyone. We, for instance, were pulled out of bed at 7:00am, just as the first of the jeeps had invaded and soldiers were beginning to occupy homes. Even though Seida residents knew the situation could be bad, everyone generally had enough food and essentials to get by.
What struck me most were our relations with the soldiers as internationals in the village. Some were nice, and some were nasty, but we thought none would dream about stopping us from carrying on about our business. However, we could never get a straight answer when asking them questions about the operation. On the one hand, some wouldn't tell us anything, while some would tell us flat out lies. This became increasingly more frustrating when they would tell us things like the curfew would be lifted for four hours here and there, but no action would be taken.
By the second day, food supplies weren't a huge problem, but the animals in this farming village were another story. That evening, a farmer in his mid 40's looked at us with desperate eyes and asked if we could accompany him to bring feed to his goats. We obliged, and he was filled with an enormous sense of relief.
As the days wore on, more and more little missions would pop up for the ISM team, and people were beckoning and pleading for us from rooftops and window grates.
In fact, the rooftops seemed to breed an interesting culture during the curfew. Everyone in Seida got up on the flat roofs of their tightly-packed houses. News was able to travel from one end of the village to the other in a few short minutes, even during electricity cuts, because it would just get shouted from person to person. Residents even threw provisions to each other if they were within range. The sense of community and solidarity was overwhelming. It's almost as if Palestinians predicted that having flat roofs would be a necessity under curfew.
Another amazing act of community was the organized bread deliveries,which also became essential by the third day of curfew. Even with the army following in tow, guns drawn, a group of young men on the back of a truck were determined to get at least one bag full of fresh pitas to every household.
By the fourth day, the situation was nearing a genuine humanitarian crisis. The army had to let up at some point, or things were going to get severe. The soldiers were also getting more and more frustrated with us internationals, as we kept defying their orders to stay inside and were working our hardest to keep the eyes of the world on their actions. One of our team members almost paid a high price for this. She had a rifle laser pointed at her for long time, simply because she had the courage to videotape some soldiers who were holding a family at gunpoint.
Finally, at around 4:00pm on Friday, after approx. 105 hours of collective house arrest, the curfew was lifted. A mixture of joy and relief swelled up in Seida, as children once again flooded the streets and shops were reopened for business. Old men with wrinkled smiles shook hands and kissed each other. People had their hands up in the air as if to say, "Humduleylah! Thanks to God!"
The army stayed on in the village, occupying two homes, but it was clear their operation was winding down. Some of the soldiers confessed to us that they too wanted to go home.
Looking back now on the situation from the nearby city of Tulkarm, I am frightened by the lack of attention that this invasion was given in the Eastern or Western media. Ariel Sharon and Mahmoud Abbas will be holding historic meetings on February 8th, 2005, and this is making all the headlines. In the West, everyone is talking about peace prospects for Palestine and Israel. However, what we witnessed in Seida, while it may have been shocking, was fairly routine as far as the occupation of Palestine goes, and this carries on even after the election of Abbas.
There is no peace in Seida. The only peace one can find is in the magnificence of the surrounding view – green valleys, olive trees, and fresh air. Unfortunately, that's just not enough. To view pictures of the Seida invasion, visit http://gallery.cmaq.net/album30
(ISM - www.palsolidarity.org) FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
January 25, 2005 [Tulkarem, West Bank]
Twenty Israeli military vehicles and two bulldozers have been occupying the village of Sieda in the northern Tulkarem district since early this morning placing the village under curfew and conducting house to house searches.
Electricity and the water supply in the village have been cut off. The Israeli military has closed all entrances to the village and are occupying the boys' school. Two family homes, belonging to Mohammed Zaki Raddad and Hussein Raddad are also occupied. Villagers fear that the bulldozers are there to demolish the homes of families of men wanted by the Israeli army. Volunteers from Canada, England and Denmark, who work with the International Solidarity Movement, are present in the homes where the Israeli soldiers are occupying the roof and ground floor of the homes, trapping the family inside on one floor. Israeli soldiers have invaded the village every night since the Eid, searching homes and harassing villagers. The soldiers have told the villagers they intend to remain in the village for at least three days.
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