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Israeli Activists Graffiti Tanks In Nablus

One big tank, two cans of spray, 35 years of occupation

We are two women, Israeli anti-occupation activists who are sick and tired and very pissed off. We decided to directly confront the criminals of the occupation.

We came to Nablus, a city under siege and curfew for about 100 days (please read testimonies on this webpage). Being Israeli in Nablus means standing in a position between the hammer and the nail: One the one hand: Palestinians who have lost all trust in the Israeli peace camp after two years of violent repression of the current uprising and the ineffective actions and protest of the shrinking Israeli left. On the other hand: the Israeli system of occupation that includes the risk of arrest (it is illegal for Israelis to enter area A, and by doing so risk an arrest and imprisonment of 2 years) as well as the routine risks of travelling and staying in a war zone.

Our biggest advantage in confronting the Israeli Occupation Forces is the fact that we can address the soldiers as members of the same society, culture and in their native tongue. The soldiers are supposedly securing us by their presence in Nablus.

The soldiers who serve in Palestine feel they are on a mission to defend Israel and thus, perceive the entire Palestinian society as their enemy that harbors ‘terrorism’. As for foreign activists in Palestine, the soldiers believe that these activists are biased and do not understand the distress of the Israeli society hence, disregard their criticism.

The soldiers never confront Israeli criticism while they are serving. They are only criticized upon their return to Israel, most not receiving any criticism at all.

This is why we decided to do an action that would address both publics in Nablus: Palestinians who have lost trust in Israelis, and Israeli soldiers who senselessly perform their orders without questioning.

In the middle of the city the Israeli military placed a checkpoint where tanks, Armed Personnel Carriers, jeeps and soldiers control all movement. They were our target. Armed with two spray cans and a megaphone, camouflaged as internationals, we approached the tank. We began spraying in Hebrew slogans against the Occupation Forces on the side of the tank: “Terrorists; IDF=Terror; Soldiers go Home; Free Palestine; Murderers” At first the soldiers didn’t notice. Then, suddenly, one of the soldiers heard the noise of the spray cans and began looking for the source. As he looked over the edge of his beastly vehicle he surprisingly found: us. The radical amazon decorating wing of the Jewish Israeli militias for freeing Palestine.

“What are you doing!?!?” he asked in a confused authority out of the little dark hole on top of the tank. We continued our precious work. The soldier stepped down and ripped the can out of one of our hands. Left with only the weapon of her voice, she took hold of the megaphone and began to address the soldiers in Hebrew confronting their deathly actions and hatred they are perpetrating by their presence. The other continued the decoration around the metal beast and then courageously climbed to the top of the machine. She then began spraying the front and heart of the tank as the soldier ruthlessly ripped the can from her hand leaving the word terrorists at a mere “ter”.

Again, left only with the weapon of her voice and knowledge she opened a conversation with the Occupying Forces. The soldier told her she was not allowed to be on the tank. “You are not allowed to be here!” she responded. “You are the one who shouldn’t be here. You are the one who is terrorizing, imprisoning civilians, shooting at children who are going to school.” The soldier said that he is here because of the terrorists. “Who are the terrorists!?!? I have been here for the past three days, hosted by families and friends who welcomed me into their home knowing I was Israeli. They hate you because you address them with a tank, in your uniform, shooting at their children robbing them of their dignity. How do you expect them to treat you, with open arms?” The soldier looked at the ground. “You are not allowed to be here.” He had nothing to say. The border police jeep arrived from the other side of the street and began cursing the other. “Whore! You Whore!” But they too were stunned by the phenomenon of Israeli women in the heart of Nablus under curfew.

Then we left. No arrest. Long line of Palestinians waiting to cross the checkpoint. A telephone call only 2 hours later telling us that the military invaded the city again, taking over yet another house in the center of town, shooting in the refugee camps, exploding, demolishing, terrorizing.

We came back to Jerusalem, a city filled with police personnel and jeeps that scream their sirens and search our bags at the entrance to the open bustling coffee shops and restaurants, the racist graffiti on the city walls, the fascist posters and our confrontation with our society and the change that needs to be brought about.

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