How
Occupation Corrupts
The Occupiers Absolutely
By Mustapha Karkouti
Gulf
News
27 November, 2003
Occupation
is, indisputably, an effective tool of corruption. Apart from the large
scale destruction inflicted on "the occupied", history has
shown that occupation can do a lot more damage on "the occupiers".
The Vietnam legacy still lives within the American social fabric three
decades after it ended. Though it was a difference in nature and goals
to the continuous Israeli occupation of Arab lands, the American adventure
in Vietnam brutalised US moral and political standing in the world.
For years, Israeli
liberals and peace activists and sections of Jewish society in the Diaspora,
had the slogan in demonstrations against the Israeli occupation of Arab
lands, has been "the occupation corrupts."
Decades have elapsed
since Israel first occupied Arab territories in 1967. The Jewish state
seems to be reaping what it sowed: ordinary Israeli kids join the army
and become sadistic monsters, just by complying with its rules.
Soldier's account
To understand to
what extension occupation corrupts Israeli young men and women serving
in the army, one has to read one soldier's account about his regular
service at the army's checkpoints in the Palestinian territories.
The leading Israeli
writer, Gideon Levy, brought this issue to the open in Haaretz last
week. He revealed how checkpoints, which are measures in theory meant
to secure movements in emergency situations only, have become breading
ground for growing human "monsters." His article, gave a partial
answer from an Israeli Staff Sergeant. It is a frank introduction to
only one aspect of occupation: checkpoints.
While reading this
eye-opening article about the Staff Sergeant's own experience, one has
to remember that this specific account all took place pre-Intifada and
during the so-called "peaceful" days of Oslo! (1996-99). If
you can imagine this account multiplied ten-fold, you will start to
understand how daily life really is now. Staff Sergeant, Liran Ron Furer,
Levy said, cannot just routinely get on with his life anymore. He is
haunted by images from his three years of military service in Gaza and
the thought that this could be a "syndrome" afflicting everyone
who serves at checkpoints gives him no respite. On the verge of completing
his studies in the design programme at the Bezalel Academy of Art and
Design, he decided to drop everything and devote all his time to the
book he wanted to write. But the trouble the Staff Sergeant faced was
that serious publishers refused to print his book, and when he found
one who did, distributors refused to handle it.
Furer is certain
that what happened to him is not at all unique. Here he was-a creative,
sensitive graduate "who became an animal at the checkpoint, a violent
sadist who beat up Palestinians because they didn't show him the proper
courtesy, who shot out tires of cars because their owners were playing
the radio too loud, who abused a retarded teenage boy lying handcuffed
on the floor of the Jeep, just because he had to take his anger out
somehow."
"Checkpoint
Syndrome" (also the title of his book), "gradually transforms
every soldier into an animal," Furer maintains, "regardless
of whatever values he brings with him from home." No one is able
to escape its taint. "In a place," he said, "where nearly
everything is permissible and violence is perceived as normative behaviour,
each soldier tests his own limits of violence impulsiveness on his victims:
the Palestinians." His book is not easy reading. He reconstructs
scenes from the years in which he served in Gaza (1996-1999), years
that, one must remember, were relatively quiet, Levy said. He describes
how they would order children to clean the checkpoint before inspection
time; how a soldier named Shahar invented a game which goes like this:
"He checks someone's identity card, and instead of handing it back
to him, just tosses it in the air. He got a kick out of seeing the Arab
have to get out of his car to pick up his identity card
It's
a game for him and he can pass a whole shift this way." Also how
they humiliated a dwarf who came to the checkpoint every day on his
horse cart: "They forced him to have his picture taken on the horse,
hit him and degraded him for a good half hour and let him go only when
cars started arriving at the checkpoint. The poor guy, he really didn't
deserve it."
Other scarring behaviour
is how the soldiers at checkpoints would have "souvenir photos
taken with bloodied, bound Arabs whom they'd beaten up," and how
Shahar urinated "on the head of an Arab because the man had the
nerve to smile at a soldier; how Dado forced an Arab to stand on four
legs and bark like a dog; and how they stole prayer beads and cigarettes."
Haunting incident
One incident which
is still haunting Furer is his mate, Miro, wanted to practice his favourite
hobby. "Miro," he said, "wanted the Arabs to give him
their cigarettes, but they refuse[d] to do so, Miro broke someone's
hand and Boaz slashed their tires."
The most chilling
of all the personal confessions Furer has made is this: "I ran
toward them and punched an Arab right in the face. I'd never punched
anyone that way. He collapsed on the road. The officers said that we
had to search him for his papers. We pulled his hands behind his back
and I bound them with plastic handcuffs. Then we blindfolded him so
he wouldn't see what was in the Jeep. I picked him up from the road.
Blood was trickling from his lip onto his chin. I led him up behind
the Jeep and threw him in, his knees banged against the trunk and he
landed inside. We sat in the back, stepping on the Arab
Our Arab
lay there pretty quietly, just crying softly to himself. His face was
right on my flak jacket and he was bleeding and making a kind of puddle
of blood and saliva, and it disgusted and angered me, so I grabbed him
by the hair and turned his head to the side. He cried out loud and to
get him to stop, we stepped harder and harder on his back. That quieted
him down for a while and then he started up again. We concluded that
he was either retarded or crazy."
"The company
commander informed us over the radio that we had to bring him to the
base. 'Good work, tigers,' he said, teasing us. All the other soldiers
were waiting there to see what we'd caught. When we came in with the
Jeep, they whistled and applauded wildly. We put the Arab next to the
guard. He didn't stop crying and someone who understood Arabic said
that his hands were hurting from the handcuffs. One of the soldiers
went up to him and kicked him in the stomach. The Arab doubled over
and grunted, and we all laughed. It was funny
then, I kicked
him really hard in the ass and he flew forward just as I'd expected.
They shouted that I was a totally crazy, and they laughed
I felt
happy. Our Arab was just a 16-year-old mentally retarded boy."
Mustapha Karkouti
is the former president, Foreign Press Association in London.