A formal launch event took place Monday evening in Jaffa, at a highly fitting venue called “Na LaGa’at” (Please Touch) a theater/restaurant space operated by the deaf and blind. The release of the video campaign marks another achievement for BTS, which has demonstrated not only that the testimonies are genuine and cannot be disregarded, but that increasing numbers of Israeli citizens are willing to go on record and speak out, despite the harsh criticism and attacks the organization has experienced and the fact that many Israelis see them as traitors.

The IDF has repeatedly stated that complaints should be made with the relevant authorities in the IDF and that because Breaking the Silence has not cooperated with them, there is no way for them to verify the allegations against them.

Here is another video of a former border policewoman.

Yesterday, BTS’ website was hacked and it was impossible to access it for most of the day. But now it is back up.

972mag.com was the first to publish the Breaking the Silence testimonies last December in a special release project.

Source: Haaretz

***

By Mikhael Manekin

I know what I won’t tell them at the Kirshenbaum Committee. I won’t tell them that I immigrated to Israel with my family as a child. I won’t tell them that I served as an officer in the Golani Brigade. I also won’t tell them that I did 35 days of reserve duty on emergency call-up orders in the Second Lebanon War. I won’t tell them these things because I don’t owe them anything. They don’t need to love us or tell us  that we are patriots. They are doing far more damage to this place than we are.

Because of them millions of Palestinians live under military occupation. Because of them the regard toward foreign workers is shocking. Because of them Palestinian-Israelis do not live in full equality in their own country. And because of them our position in the world is deteriorating day by day. An Israeli travelling abroad today is not ashamed because of me, he is ashamed because of Lieberman. He is ashamed because of the occupation. And because of them my friends are leaving the country –  to study abroad, to work abroad – they want to find a place that is normal, a place that does not shame their existence. A place they can live in.

And in any case, since when do I need permission from the government to say something? Who are they to determine whether my voice is legitimate or not? Obviously they do not like what I say – I speak against them. And they should listen to me. Or turn their backs. But they do not have the right to tell me when I can and cannot speak. And I don’t intend to explain this to them.

Maybe I’ll tell them something anyway – maybe I’ll tell them about the soldiers who arrest innocent Palestinians to practice real arrests. On orders. Maybe I’ll tell them what a closure is, or a seal, or a curfew, and how these words have destroyed the lives of millions – not for sake of security, but for controlling another. Maybe I’ll tell them that today, just today, I met a young  man who was discharged from the army last week and thinks only of Hebron and what he did there and wants to scream to society of the deeds done in its name, but he’s scared …

I’m not going to apologize or pander to this committee. They do more to harm me, my family and my surroundings than anybody else. But I’m going to fight this committee, and every person or entity that tries to silence me. And I will do this by breaking the silence and resisting the occupation.

Mikhael Manekin is a member of Breaking the Silence and former officer in the Israeli infantry.

Breaking the Silence, an organization of veteran IDF soldiers working to expose the everyday reality of the occupation, is releasing a new book of soldiers’ testimonies from the years 2001-2010.

The collection of 101 testimonies shows the degree of control Israel has over the lives of Palestinians. Unlike previous publications by BTS, this one is not (only) about war crimes. More than anything, the testimonies reveal the banalities of the Occupation: the roadblocks, the nightly raids, the mass arrests and the daily humiliations which take place everywhere in the West Bank.

The third collection of testimonies from BTS’s new book we publish deal with the checkpoints. The checkpoints are one of the aspects of the occupation that affects the entire West Bank population, not just some unlucky individuals. Some Palestinians can spend hours each day in the long lines leading to the army posts; others are stuck, refused or turned back for lack of appropriate papers, or just our of the ill will of an 18-19 years old kid who commands the post. For many Palestinians, the checkpoints represent the enormous degree of control Israelis soldiers have on their life.

This is how these checkpoints look from the soldiers’ side.

Testimony 28: Everything is up to individual interpretation

We spoke about who would want to cross into Ramallah.

Supposed that someone comes with his child, with his grandmother, with whomever, shows me documents, he needs to get to the hospital in Ramallah because he has a doctor’s appointment. The protocol, as I understand it, is that cases like this should be allowed to cross. I let the guy cross, and after a few minutes, they get on the radio from the next checkpoint and say to me: “Why the hell did you let him cross?” There are directives indicating he can cross. They don’t want him to cross, I don’t know why.

They would say to you, “I don’t want to,” or “Did you not understand the briefing?”

No. It’s all very much up to individual interpretation. The briefing wasn’t clearly saying: “OK, if there are humanitarian cases, they can cross.” What exactly constitute humanitarian cases? It’s very much up to the interpretation of the person commanding the checkpoint at a given moment. The guys at the next checkpoint started calling me the “UN guy” all the time, because I would always let people cross who they then decided cannot cross. It was totally subject to the mood of the person commanding the checkpoint, how long he has been on the base– really according to what the guy’s personal issues were at the moment. There is no person who coordinates or oversees, not even in the operations room. There is no procedure for getting on the radio to other operations rooms. It’s more like, “OK, there is a guy in this situation…can he cross? Not cross?” Sometimes you do it, Sometimes, whoever is in the field decides. It was all a very, very big mess.”

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Hundreds of Palestinians waiting before dawn at the Bethlehem checkpoint, July 2008 (photo: the Advocacy Project)

Testimony 3: spilling out crates as “an example”

After the fact. If you look at your company, were things run correctly? Is there a gap between what they taught you and expected from you and how the checkpoint looked at the end of the day?

People from my company did things in a very strict way, mostly in Reihan. In Qalqillya it was less strict from the standpoint of what they did at the checkpoint. They were strict in Reihan, but at the same time there weren’t too many deviations.

How are they strict? How does it manifest itself?

The DCL (District Coordination Liaison] set up certain Palestinians that were coordinating the transportation of goods. A guy who had a Mercedes mini truck was transferring agricultural goods in crates, all kinds of vegetables. In general, we had to pass a megnometer [metal detector] over the crates, above it and below it. You put the crate on the side and continue to the next one. You can also tell him to spill out the contents of the crate. It’s not a large crate; it’s a crate of old plastic. Of course, you don’t help the guy empty the contents of the crate. You tell him to spill it out, and afterward he collects it. From the standpoint of our procedures, it was legitimate. They told us to spill out a few crates as an example. The same guy, I remember, had ton of goods, we spent an hour after the closing of the checkpoint to keep checking him. With regard to him I remember there were a few times they told me to empty out his crates.

Why him specifically?

There was a [soldier] girl who came to hum at the [erased] facility at the pedestrian crossing and he said to her that he would give her father 40 sheep if she would marry him, but I hear from her that he was annoying her. But that’s nonsense, you aren’t strict because of that, rather they are [supposed to be] strict professionally. Sometimes there were people who took it personally, that because he annoyed you, you dump his crates. But we were supposed to do it as an example. You don’t dump out everyone’s.

How many crates did he have?

In the small truck there aren’t crates, it’s a bath. There are Mercedes trucks. For example, there is the Isuzu, which are small and they have crates, but this was a bigger truck, like a medium size and you have maybe 200 crates.

And in that case he dumped out 200 crates?

In her case? Yes.

Is that a common “punishment”?

It’s a kind of punishment, but it happened more rarely, it happened because he annoyed her.

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Tel Rumeida Checkpoint, Feb 2010 (photo: amillionwaystobe)

Testimony 24: A kind of complete arbitrariness

Each time they would block and open the road with a front loader. And every time they opened it we would have to guard the crossing. It’s hundreds or thousands of cars, even pedestrians. You stand there, three-four soldiers with an APC. There isn’t even anything to do, other than guard the APC. It’s also a gigantic area because it’s like a checkpoint on both sides of the road, and on each side there is a lone of cars spanning about 4-5 kilometers. And then basically, what matters from an operations standpoint, is to prevent a traffic jam on the road.

On the Jewish road?

Yes, yes. And then you let them drive, they start driving, and there is no room for two cars at the same time, in both directions. So immediately there is a traffic jam, and you start directing traffic because you have to somehow release it.

And what happens at the checkpoint? You inspect everyone?

No. There is a surge of people, Thousands of people.

What is it a checkpoint for?

It’s a checkpoint to limit their flow of traffic at night, or at the house when they begin curfew. Sometimes you inspect suspicious things. There are cars that are allowed to enter that arrive from route 60, trucks with yellow license plates. Other plates, of course, don’t travel there. Each time, the order changes about who can cross and who cannot. So a line builds up again, because truck drivers don’t know they aren’t allowed to cross because either two hours ago, or yesterday, or two days ago, they were allowed. So a traffic jam is once again created. Orders can change several times in a single day. It’s kind of complete arbitrariness.  One incident I certainly remember, when there was some restriction on trucks with yellow plates, that they couldn’t enter anymore, and traffic jams started to build up. I said I’m not letting them enter. Until now they could enter. I don’t care, I’m not endangering the road or my soldiers because of it.

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A West Bank checkpoint, November 2007 (photo: Chris Yunker / flickr)

Testimony 29: The IDF’s great wisdom

Company A was at a checkpoint called Noam, which is on the way to Jericho. I think that it separates the Jordan valley road and Jericho. It was winter, the beginning of 2001, and it was a pretty difficult winter as far as I remember, rainy and cold. There are “the bases,” which are basically a few buildings where the unit that operates the checkpoint is located. Outside there is an open-sided shelter, which is basically the checkpoint. A very improvised checkpoint, not like the checkpoints today, which look like an airport terminal.

That’s only very specific checkpoints.

Yes. But no, I think it was erected just before we arrived there. I sat there with an officer, the platoon commander for Company A, who was really of rare quality relative to battalion 443. And we sat there and covered the shelter with plastic sheets because it rained a lot. And it was nighttime and aside from us no one was awake. It was the middle of the night, and when I think about it now, it was really scary to sit in the middle of nowhere with the wind gusting around you, and the plastic sheet blowing made it difficult to hear and see what is going on around you. And basically, you wait for a car to come, and you know because you see the headlights. And we sit there, two of us, and the order that day – again, yes the great wisdom of the IDF – was to prohibit cars that only have men inside them to cross. They needed to have either a child or a woman in order to be able to cross. Yes, of course it’s a very specific target.

Did you ask…?

Did we ask why? Even if I asked, he was an officer, that’s his duty. When I asked why, the answer was: “Those are the orders, there is nothing to do about it.” You aren’t supposed to ask why in the army, and when you ask…

But these are pretty strange orders.

That’s right. There are orders that are strange are your duty as a soldier is to carry them out without asking why.

Would you look for the logic?

There is no logic. If you were to search for logic in the army you would go crazy. They would institutionalize you.

So what would happen? You would stop cars?

No. There were almost no cars. It was the middle of the night. It was raining. But there was one car, I remember, it was a Subaru, with two Palestinian men in their forties I guess. They were very nice. They stopped. They asked to cross. And that same officer, who was a sensible guy, did not say to them what every other person in the army would have said, which is, “no you cannot,” rather he said to them [in Arabic] “either a woman or a child.” So they argued a bit, and he said to them, “those are the orders, what can I do. Either a woman or a child.” They turned around and went into Jericho. Ten minutes later they came back with a boy in the backseat and the officer said to them, “please, go ahead,” smiling at them, and they smiled back. Everyone understood how idiotic and ridiculous the situation was. Yes, you know it just adds further proof that the IDF’s job is to embitter the Palestinians’ lives. Because if you think about it, there is really no operational need for it. What’s the difference if the same men in the same car bring a child? They grab some kid, pay him a shekel and a half to come with them for an hour or two. Yes, so there. So it seemed ridiculous to me. It didn’t seem shocking. Today it seems shocking.

Related stories:

Breaking the Silence testimonies: part I, part II.

Gurvitz: The brutalization of the IDF

“And my story is we and my story is that one time we grabbed a kid, not a big kid, a 10 or 12 year-old boy, something like that, we explained to him with the help of point with the barrel of the gun what he has to do, meaning waving the gun, showing him what do. The situation that was created was like…there is a little boy behind him, a patrol jeep, and three soldiers aiming their weapon at him and he [the boy] has to go and remove, he has to remove the blockade, these blockades. And he’s working and crying…and removing the blockades, and we go and point our weapons, and he goes to the next one and like that…then the patrol jeep commander that was with me decided that maybe they’d do something like that down the road, something which is of course not logical at all, because you leave the village from there, so there is no chance it would happen, and he says to me maybe there is something down the road, we’ll take him with us. Inside the patrol jeep there is no place to put the boy so what he does is he throws me in back, my friend and I sat in the back of the patrol jeep and the boy is strewn between us on our legs and our equipment and the grenades, and he’s crying the whole time, while he’s lying down on us, and on the equipment and our feet. I felt through his pants that he was peeing out of fear. And he’s crying and lying between two soldiers in the patrol jeep, after 10 kilometers from the village when it was completely clear that apparently they did not walk 10 kilometers with furniture to make a blockade, the commander decided that it was enough, you can take him out, he stopped the jeep, he got out and came to the back, pulled the kid out, threw him on the side of the road, crying again, with wet pants, to walk 10 kilometers back, and we kept going to the settlements that were there.” (Prevention 34, Unit: Armored Corps, Location: Baka A-Sharaqiya, Year: 2000).

Breaking the Silence (BtS) will present tomorrow (Tuesday) their new book, dealing with the policy of the IDF in the West Bank and the Gaza Strip during the last decade, as it is reflected not by official rhetoric, but in the action of soldiers on the ground. The book contains hundreds of testimonies, collected from 101 witnesses, presented precisely as they were told to the BtS investigators. The broken text above is a good representative.

The book is divided into four parts: “Prevention”, that is the policy of terrorizing the Palestinian population; “Separation”, dealing with the way the IDF expropriates the Palestinians of their land and property; “Fabric of Life”, explaining the way it regiments their lives; and “Law Enforcement”, or rather lack thereof, dealing mainly with the behavior of the settlers and in the way soldiers often find themselves answering to settler, non-military, superiors. The fourth part is rather well known, at least to anyone who showed any interest in what happens five minutes west of Kfar Saba, and as such contains less new information. The first three parts, however, are frustrating, despairing, but mostly enraging, enraging, enraging. I began reading, finding myself wishing I could cry; I ended it with a burning desire for vengeance.

“The soldiers who were there for Passover – I was there for two weeks straight – and there wasn’t a chance for them to bring us provisions. We were living off the frst provisions from Passover. We were there for two weeks after Passover, one week of Passover and another week afterwards, with matzah, chocolate, canned beef and olives. And I started going crazy. My friends and I went crazy, meaning we were hungry. We had to find a way to get real food. We went down to the apartments below. We broke into the apartments, we broke in, we just broke in. […]In short, we broke into that apartment with a fve-kilo hammer. It was already pretty messy. Not very, but pretty messy. We went into the kitchen, we saw there was a stove, there were spices, there was oil. There was everything. You could make food, potatoes. We said, “we’re making French fries.” In short, we made ourselves food that we needed for a change of pace. We were happy. We started eating and we didn’t feel bad about it. Unethical or something. I still today don’t think that it was something totally forbidden for us to do, because bottom line, we were really hungry. The food there was like atrocious.” (Prevention 51, Unit: Paratroopers, Location: Ramallah/Nablus, Year: 2001-2002)

The testimonies come from eyewitnesses; all too often, they themselves are involved in the crimes. Sometimes as helpless spectators, trying and inevitably failing to resist; sometimes they are shocked by what they see; but in many cases, they understood something was wrong only years afterwards. They had, of course, an excuse: this was a hostile population, a population of “terrorists”.

* * * *
I have recently finished reading Pity the Nation, by Robert Fisk, which deals with the wars in Lebanon in the 1970s and 1980s, particularly the great Israeli invasion of June 1982 and what followed it. The book deserves its own post, time permitting, but I want to pay attention to one specific point Fisk hammers time and again: the poisonous of the use of the term “terrorist”. Its usage automatically strips away the humanity of the other side’s militants, and facilitates turning not just them but the people around them and their family members to people whose life are for the taking. Thomas Friedman wrote something similar in his “From Beirut to Jerusalem”: The Israeli soldiers overlooking the Sabra and Shatila camps during the massacre did not hear people being murdered, he wrote, because as far as they were concerned there were no people there, just terrorists.

* * * *
The IDF rules the West Bank since 1967. Up until 2005, it also ruled the Gaza Strip. Between 1982 and 2000, it ruled the “security region” in Southern Lebanon. Much of its activity during those years involve constant friction the occupied population, which naturally enough was not friendly. The natural contempt of the occupied by the occupier always contained also fearing it, fearing its uprising, its vengeance, fear of what would happen to the occupier were the wheel to turn. One should wonder whether the fact this fear was much weaker in Lebanon and Gaza – Hizbullah had no claims on Israel and Gaza is very effectively fenced – made retreating from them so much easier, and the fact that Israel and the West Bank can hardly be separated may become a very serious block to a retreat.

The settlers are to be protected, the residents, not so much (Yossi Gurvitz)

People growing up in the 1970s still remember the happy tales of trips taken by Israelis throughout the West Bank – Gaza was much less appreciated – in the heady, drunken days following the victory of June 1967, how people would return from with all sorts of cheap trinkets. These were victory trips. They became a fading memory in the early 1970s, because, once the shock of occupation was over, the West Bank – not to mention the Strip – was no longer safe for Israelis.

As a result, the occupied territories quickly became known to just three segments of the Israeli public: the settlers (who on the one hand denied there was a problem, claiming that most Palestinians never had it so good, and the rest were agitated by bitter intellectuals, while on the other hand demanding horrible punishment of the entire population after any attack); the leftist demonstrators, always few in number; and the soldiers. Until 1987, when the First Intifada broke out, the IDF managed to rule the territories by relatively small forces; since that year, they became its main front. And in the territories, of course, there lived terrorists. Whole villages and towns of them.

In 1988, a song by Si Heiman, “Shooting and Crying”, caused a scandal precisely because it tried to make Israelis see what happens on the other side of the Green Line. The Israelis didn’t want to know and still don’t. The settlers have their all-excusing ideology. The leftists still demonstrate, uselessly. The soldiers, who until recently have mostly kept silent, or waited a decade or so and turned their memories into a book or a movie, have started speaking out. One suspects that in many ways they do so because unlike earlier generations – who were told they had to keep quiet in the name of something greater, be it the unit, the IDF, Zionism itself – this generation is used to speaking about everything, to whom silence is a stranger.

* * * *

“Now these cards, what’s amazing about them, is that you already know from the checkpoint how hard they are to get. Because people only show you those that are expired, and they tell you stories about how they are already trying to renew it. And you realize that itself that is almost impossible to get while still valid. So we were shocked to see that apparently the guys that work on the settlement had valid ones. In Yakir, in the Yakir settlement, they had Arab workers. So the few workers leave their documents at the gate, and enter the settlement. So what did the two guys that were with me do? They took the documents and put them in their pocket. A guy without his documents, you can imagine what…
Why did they put them in their pockets?
Because of their ill will. Just because, he went out for a smoke and they played a prank, they hid it from him. Of course nothing would happen to him [the reservist] Like what? It’s just some guy’s travel document. […]I don’t remember how it ended. I only remember it like…I really remember that it was the frst time I realized that an 18 year-old boy with a bit of ill will can fuck up someone’s life. The next day the guy can’t get to work, and you already know that the guy, in order to get the card, went through seven circles of hell. You’ve passed through there, in Kedumim, the District Coordination and Liaison, you know what happens there.” (Separation 14, Unit: Nashon Brigade, Location: Yakir, Year: 2001).

This ill-will, or rather this power to harm, of an 18 years old is the scarlet thread binding this book together. This is a book about slaves rising to the throne, of little nobodies granted control over the lives of others, and of the automatic tend to sadism in such positions. This is the story of the trigger happy soldiers throwing stun grenades into a marketplace, killing some chickens by the blast (Fabric of Life 1); of MPs who routinely spill out the contents of boxes of produce on the road, randomly selected, and when one of them hears a remark she doesn’t like from a Palestinian, they spill out all his produce (Fabric of Life 3); of Shimson soldiers taking a shit on the sofas in a house they occupy, and pillage the house (Prevention 47); of a paratrooper commander who, out of boredom, decided to fire at every vehicle he passes and defend his action by saying it might have been a car bomb (Prevention 37); of a company commander “whose mind was fucked”, who decided to shoot every vehicle, and a team firing at every ambulance since it may “smuggle terrorists” (Prevention 38); about paratroopers who, in a scene reminiscent of a famous movie, decide to search the entrails of a piano, find a collection of artistic swords, and confiscate them (Prevention 64); about a combat engineer doing all he can to keep his humanity, snapping when some Palestinian gives him lip, while the other soldiers snicker because now we have another criminal in the gang, no more righteous people (Fabric of Life 18); about Border Policemen having a contest about who can humiliate a parent in the presence of his children to the point of making him “shit his pants” (Fabric of Life 16); how…

There are quite a few stories of pointless killings, of the way the army channels the sadism of his soldiers for his own needs, about killing out of vengeance, about people who, as Israeli satirists wrote it at the time, “were promoted to the rank of a wanted man following their deaths”, and about the way the army lies about it all. But what stands out in this anthology is just how much it is the damaging of property which shocks the soldiers. I mean, if you kill someone, you can generally rationalize it. If he wasn’t a terrorist himself, he was likely to be a relative of one; and after, killing people is the army’s business. But looting – somehow the stench of looting overpowers all other stenches. We find this particular argument in many different places, from Jehova after the Israelites commit genocide at Jericho to Heinrich Himmler in his Posen speech, in which he justified the annihilation of the Jews but claims (it’s unclear to which extent was he aware of the lie) that the SS has purified its ranks of the looters. It’s the usual stench of people trying to purify the impure, who take offense at looting as if theft or the destruction of property is somehow worse than the killing of innocent men and women. This stench always comes from the Israel media when it reports of yet another case of looting. Destruction, humiliation – this is a normal part of the fame; depriving people of their humanity – that’s how it works. But let no one defile our struggle by trying to make a few shekels out of it. Here and no more.

Which is to say, we raised – under the IDF’s watchful eye – a generation of too-old children, spoiled ones, who think it is OK to pillage someone else’s food if they didn’t like their rations; who learned that it’s perfectly fine to abuse other people, and even joke about it, who learned there is a human dust you can spill all your frustrations at, and there’ll be no bill to pay – but knows, uneasily, even as they pillage, that for that act they may pay a heavy price. Kidnapping a child and forcing him at gunpoint to remove obstacles will be a breeze, but if they are caught stealing a gadget – oh dear, this time they’ll be dragged before a military tribunal. Besides the fear of harming the myth of the purity of arms, there is another reason for that. The IDF, as anyone who observed it knows, lacks discipline. But the officers are willing to turn a blind eye to it, as long as the people paying the price are the Palestinian subjects. Looting is more complicated: after a short while of allowing it, all the soldiers would want to do is pillage. And this puts the army’s ability to carry out the mission at risk, so it is not tolerated.

Aside from the obvious effects – the creeping corruption of the occupation; the turning of the IDF into a garrison army, incapable of dealing with a real enemy; the burning hatred the soldiers leave behind, which will make ending the hostilities very difficult – there is the unspoken problem. A very large segment of young Israelis have experienced trauma, or, in the more severe case, have internalized it and made it a part of their lives. And what happened there, will return to haunt us here. This bomb’s fuse is a slow one, but it will detonate.

(Yossi Gurvitz)

Related stories:

Breaking the Silence testimonies: part I, part II, part III.

Reading the testimonies collected by Breaking the Silence (BTS), one is struck, as Joseph described, by the recurring theme of purposelessness that characterizes military operations during the Second Intifada. Joseph suggests these activities do have a purpose: they train soldiers to dehumanize Palestinians. This is in line with a great deal of scholarship, which points out that ideologies and opinions are often produced by actions, rather than the other way around.

But there is also another purpose which motivates these seemingly senseless activities. The IDF came into the Second Intifada with a way of thinking about military operations, that is very different from the classic notion of war. The BTS testimonies substantiate that the intent of the IDF during the Second Intifada was to undermine the ability of Palestinian society to politically challenge Israel, by destroying its capacity to function as an integrated whole.

This was not a subconscious effort, or a tacit notion. The highest echelons of the IDF explicitly articulated this campaign in internal meetings and documents, presentations before foreign audiences, articles in professional journals, and sometimes even press interviews.

The proponents of this policy drew their inspiration from conceptual frameworks developed by the US military, which in turn go back to Soviet military doctrine. An entire language was adopted, littered with acronyms such as RMA (Revolution in Military Affairs), SOD (System Operational Design) and EBO (Effects-Based Operations). One of its phrases, “Shock and Awe”, became famous during the Iraq War, which was planned and carried out, to a substantial extent, according to those principles.

Describing these concepts in full would take a book or two, and would not be easy, considering that there is little agreement on their meaning or implications. I would like to focus on just one of them, which I consider especially important for understanding IDF operations during the Second Intifada.

The terms “rival system rationale” or “rival as rationale” reflect a new understanding of the best way to achieve victory in war. Traditionally, the threat the enemy posed was thought to emanate from its fighting forces. Victory was achieved when these forces could no longer fight, either because they were destroyed, or because their logistic support was destroyed or depleted.

According to the new thinking, an easier way to defeat the enemy was by attacking its rationale. In this context, “rationale” stands for whatever enables the enemy to operate as a coherent entity which works to achieve certain goals. Even with the enemy’s fighting force largely intact, without a rationale, it cannot pose a serious threat. Fighters can engage in random violence, but they no longer work together to achieve a purpose your own side considers undesirable.

The reason why this doctrine refers to “rival” instead of “enemy” is explained quite well in the following passage:

The second framed discussion is that of the Rival as Rationale, the purpose of which is to define and describe the rival as a system. Although rival is traditionally thought of as an adversary, SOD intentionally takes a broad perspective in that the rival may be any condition or component, whether friendly or enemy, that is to be disrupted or influenced.⁶³ It leads to a definition of the rival by examining the logic, motives, intent, behaviours, culture, economics, and interrelationships of the rival with other entities in the system.⁶⁴ This definition provides an account of the exploitable tensions within the system.

The best way to “dismantle” the rival system’s rationale is to attack the connections between its various parts, and to keep it constantly unhinged and unstable. Hence, in Iraq, the use of “shock and awe”. In the West Bank, the same ends were achieved through the massive use of internal checkpoints, and by the constant pressure of “disruptive” operations. These “disruptive” actions, specifically targeting the civilian population (a weak link in the “rival system”), turned into a routine procedure, described in BTS testimonies, and admitted even by the commander of the IDF infantry brigade [PDF] in the West Bank.

This operational method was successful, as far as it goes. Palestinians’ ability to act together as a whole with a common purpose was severely compromised. At the price of Palestinian civilians’ immense suffering, Israeli decision makers were provided with increased room for diplomatic maneuvers, which they then proceeded to waste on shortsighted foolishness. The IDF certainly cannot take all the “credit” for this outcome, but its contribution was crucial, and intentional.

Read More on Breaking the Silence’s report:

Breaking the Silence: The testimonies (part I) and The testimonies (part II)

Joseph Dana: The moral corruption of Israeli society

Yuval Ben-Ami: The birth of tragedy from the spirit of occupation

Mairav Zonszein: BTS: the IDF’s magnum opus

The collection of 101 testimonies shows the degree of control Israel has over the lives of Palestinians. Unlike previous publications by BTS, this one is not (only) about war crimes. More than anything, the testimonies reveal the banalities of the Occupation: the roadblocks, the nightly raids, the mass arresrs and the daily humiliations which take place everywhere in the West Bank.

The book is divided into four chapters, corresponding to the four code-words given to IDF operational modes in the West Bank, “separation,” “fabric of life,” law-enforcement” and “prevention”.

The following are four testimonies from an advanced copy of the book. With the exception of the second testimony, they are of the “milder” events exposed by breaking the silence. We chose to publish them – and not the more “sensational” testimonies – because these are the sort of events that take place everyday in the West Bank, for more than forty years. They demonstrate how the occupation is present in the lives of all ordinary Palestinians; how arbitrary it is; and how it leaves people at the hands of 18 year old kids, who are, more than anything, bored and indifferent to their fate. The occupation is not about security – its about control over the lives of millions of human beings.

[all images in this post are by IDF soldiers]

An IDF post inside a Palestinian home (photo: breaking the silence)

Testimony 48: “In reality you are just abusing the population”
Unit: Field Intelligence; location: South Hebron Hills; year: 2005-2008

What operations did you do in South Mount Hebron?

It’s the same operations, lookout activity. Sometimes we would… the brigade would try to play with us. We would go on missions of… we would join some infantry company or organize some kind of team, they would go into a house, just do whatever… as a demonstration of presence. In order to draw… it’s a mission which has a kind of logic, but in reality you are just abusing the population. You arrive… the idea is like this: The infantry team takes control of some house; and we take one under cover so no one will know.

The Same House?

No. The house across from it. Meaning the same street. One here, one here. They make noise and chaos so there will be a protest. They really burned tires there on the house.

The Soldiers?

No, the Palestinians, because they took control of the house as a protest, meaning they put up flags, made noise, stun grenades. That was their mission.

What time was this?

It was during the day. We came at night and all the action was during the day.

At dawn?

Yes. The idea was that maybe some armed man would come to the area and then we’ll succeed in taking him down, because we are there secretly, because we are at a different corner. In reality an armed man didn’t come, fine, OK, and their house was destroyed. Tires were burned on the house. An innocent house, just a house on the map, that the Shin Bet checked and there wasn’t any… that it’s really innocent population… that’s what they check.

They are innocent, so you enter their house?

Yes and we destroyed the house. The windows were broken, they threw stones into the house. That’s it, an entire house was destroyed.

Where was the family?

I think they threw them out

Where was this?

It was in Yatta. So do you, like, understand? The thought at the beginning, when you sit with a map with the brigade commander, then it seems very nice… ‘you take control of this house with a demonstration of presence, you’ll be hidden, and an armed man will come and everything will be fine and dandy.’ But in the field you destroyed the house of a family and left, that’s it. And it happened every day, all the time.

It’s not an unordinary activity?

It is an activity that the infantrymen do.

Did you do it more than once or twice?

Yes, yes.

It was routine?

Yes, But that was more unique because it was in the heart of Yatta and we did it secretly.

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Palestinians detainees in Hebren (photo: breaking the silence)

Testimony 57A: patrol in order to beat up Arabs
Unit: Kfir Brigade; location: Hebron; year: 2006-2007

There are a lot of incidents. Just all kinds of nonsense that we would do. We would beat up the Arabs all the time, nothing special. Just to pass the time.

Do you remember an incident where you opened fire on Palestinians?

You know how many times it happened, when there would be disturbances and we would open fire?

Live ammunition?

When you had to, yes, when you had to, when enough came at us – then yes, at the
knee, the knees.

You said that you would think about how to heat up the atmosphere all the time.

Of course.

What does that mean?

You know, we wanted it to be interesting, we would only look for methods to rile up the Arabs a bit, so that we would shoot a lot of rubber bullets, and it would be interesting, and so the time would pass a little faster in Hebron.

Who thought of methods?

You think there was a lack? Soldiers, commanders.

Sitting with the company commander?

What do you mean, company commander? Never, I’m telling you, it would never leave
the platoon. The platoon is like state secrets, that’s what we would say. No one knew.

So you sat only with the platoon commander?

What the hell. The platoon commander also didn’t know.

So who sat?

Commanders and a sergeant.

Where did you sit?

In a room. There is the senior room, and the junior room, [we sat] in the senior room.

So what do you say: “today on patrol we do this and that”?

Yes.

You plan ahead?

Of course.

So what would you do?

All kinds of nonsense. We would do a lot, we would say: a patrol for what? A patrol is in order to beat up Arabs. Children, Arabs, all kinds of nonsense.

Who would initiate the patrols?

All kinds of people. The patrol commander wasn’t to know about it.

Sergeants and squad commanders?

Yes, officers are not connected.

They would say: “now we’re going out to…”

We would know where we were going, we had a briefing before. We would go out on patrol.

The squad commander would come and say: “now we’re going out on patrol?”

You know you are going out on patrol. Again listen, it’s not with every squad commander that you do it, you know with which squad commander you do it. When a force goes out on a patrol, it’s not by its own choice. Everyone knows there is a patrol. That’s the mission: to patrol, to protect. We just continued, you know.

What does the company commander say to you when you go out? What does he say?

He also knows it’s going to happen. He also takes, he would choose the people that would go with him. Let’s say, I told you about ***, I would never go out with him, there is no chance in the world he would let me go out with him.

What would happen?

We would go out on patrol, just an example, some kid would look at us, it didn’t seem like a good look to us – he would get slapped.

Who would slap him?

The squad commander, the soldiers

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Graffiti on a Palestinian shop: "Rabbi Nachman will kick out the Arabs" (photo: Breaking the Silence)

Testimony 49: “We go into innocent people’s homes, every day, all the time”
Unit: Field intelligence; Location: General; Year: 2004-2006

The thing that shocked me, that caused me to be shocked, was that you, every day you do missions in which you go into houses and it’s…to families… We got to this family which didn’t even have a bathroom in the house – it shocked me. That’s why it also, it’s something that sits on my heart a lot… that day the Palestinian [living there] was planning to take out the chickens. We were able to somehow communicate a bit, I had someone on the team who spoke Arabic. So his work… he collects the eggs, he sells the eggs, that his job. His wife doesn’t work; she’s in the house with the kids. So you grab your head and say: “that’s it, I stopped him from making a living for a day.” That’s what we do: we go into innocent people’s homes. Every day, all the time.

There are those who would say that they are not innocent, that it could be they are hiding things.

Of course. No, there are also those who would say: it’s good to go even into innocent people’s homes; the sanctity of the mission is above all, OK? Meaning, there isn’t some kind of problem here, they’ll tell you there is no ethical problem with what you are doing. You aren’t harming the army’s moral code, you aren’t beating them up. If they resist, then you have the permission to give it to them, to respond or whatever, so there is no problem with regard to the punishment. So everything is OK, and it’s for the good of the mission, it justifies the means, and that’s it. But in the field, when you summarize the period, most of the missions aren’t always thought out to the end. There were a lot of missions which didn’t have much purpose, or we were sent on a mission where the intelligence was so weak that maybe it would have been better to avoid it. In the end, bottom line, that family got it and that’s it, that’s what happened on that mission.  And it doesn’t happen…that’s most times. Let’s say 95 percent of the incidents, their whole purpose was to strike a family and go back.

Deliberately?

That’s what happened in practice. And then you start thinking. OK, but you can’t know. Speaking from experience, we saw which missions succeeded. Those which had very, very focused intelligence, very, very clear, and that work was done with the whole web of intelligence, meaning the Shin Bet and whatever. But [for other missions] the army always has all kinds of reasons, which means basically: even if you don’t feel it, it has other ramifications. There is the presence of the army, there is always that thing of presence, the large missions

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IDF checkpoint (photo: breaking the silence)

Testimony 38 It’s called “segregation”
Unit: Civil Administration; location: Nablus; year: 2006

In 2006, we received a complaint from students of the A-Najah University in Nablus, because they didn’t allow them to enter from the Bet Iba checkpoint, which is a checkpoint that was open, I think it was open until a few months before this, and then it was just closed. I don’t remember why. I think it’s related to the settlements there, because the checkpoint leads to them, among other things. The checkpoint closed for almost every possible case. The army, the brigade, calls it “segregation.”

Segregation means that you only allow residents of certain ages to enter. Men above a certain age, say around 35, 40. And women from a younger age. They didn’t allow the young students to enter. They live in the villages near Nablus. It’s as if you were a resident of Ness-Tziona and you would want to go to Rehovot [names of Israeli suburbs] and they wouldn’t let you. I remember it specifically because it was the first complaint I received. A nice English-speaking student called, I was happy that I was able to communicate with him, and it’s very disappointing to give the answer, there is segregation…

Did they give you the reason for the segregation?

I also gave it to him. I explained to him what it was, and that he can’t enter at his age. I don’t remember the exact age, but that if he was a different age he could have entered. In a different incident four women, some sick and some escorting, were detained at the Bet Iba checkpoint. They were sick and needed medical attention. This was two months after the thing with the students.

Was it still the same segregation?

I can’t say, but it was still segregation.

You don’t know the ages?

Now I don’t know, then I certainly knew. We applied tremendous pressure, both myself and *** who was a coordinator in the civil administration. We applied pressure so that at least the sick women could cross the checkpoint. The escorts had to take a long detour to the checkpoint in Ein Bidan, and then they apparently met up.

Who gave the segregation order, and when was it repealed, allowing entry again?

There are segregations which can last for months. I remember a segregation that stretched from all of Samaria to Jericho, the whole Eastern part. A Palestinian from Ramallah who wants to get to Jericho only has one route, via Jenin. A resident of Jerusalem who wants to get to the Dead Sea? Go via Afula.

Which checkpoints can you pass through?

I don’t remember the names, I think via Beqaot, Tiasir.

Did you know exactly which checkpoint you could pass through?

Yes, the Palestinians also knew.

What was the reason?

Terrorist attack warnings. It was explained to me that it’s in order to prevent terror attacks.

How long did it last?

I don’t remember. There are certain segregations on certain days and at certain hours, and sometimes it lasts weeks.

Who removes the segregations?

Someone on the major-general level if it’s more than a few days, and it can go up to the brigade commander.

Are there segregations which don’t have a time limit, if you were to want to verify when the segregation ends?

I think there is a certain limitation. There is a military orders group, which there is no reason to get into, but there is segregation, they establish it for an amount of time, and they extend it for an amount of time.

And you know when it ends?

Yes, and I tell the Palestinians. The Palestinians know because there are rumors that run from mouth to mouth, and the village leaders and the Palestinian police announce it.

You are less involved in the announcement?

I don’t announce at all. I have no connection to the village heads. But if a Palestinian calls me and asks if he can transfer goods via Efrayim, which is a “back to back” checkpoint in the area of Tul Karem [a checkpoint through which only goods, but no vehicles, can pass], even though today is Memorial Day for the fallen IDF soldiers, then I tell him yes, until 12 noon. We are also a kind of information service, which are another few undocumented conversations during the day. It’s a whole story to roam between the checkpoints…The real story is that this lousy checkpoint only protects the settlements.

Bet Iba?

Yes. Another interesting story is the story of a taxi driver who took a sick person to the hospital in Nablus, and he wanted to return to his house in Bet Furik so he had to cross the checkpoint there. The checkpoint closes at eight. Israelis move to daylight savings time in April, the Palestinians change the clock two weeks later. He and the sick person are waiting at the checkpoint, but the checkpoint is closed. The soldiers that were there didn’t open it for them, and they only let them cross in the morning. They stayed the night in Nablus.

No one did anything?

No. Here is a sixty year-old Palestinian with cancer. He was called, and he had permission to receive treatment in the Asuta hospital. A volunteer waited for him at the Reihan checkpoint who would take him to his appointment in the hospital at ten in the morning. The soldiers wouldn’t let him cross. It was seven in the morning and it takes three hours [to get there] and he doesn’t want to miss his appointment. It seems that this man had a permit for the Gilboa checkpoint, and not for Reihan, so it was made clear to him that he was requested to go to the Gilboa checkpoint which is an hour ride for Palestinians, and from there he could leave to [enter] Israel. I can only say one thing: Why? He is a sixty year-old with cancer, what difference does it make if he accidentally went to a different checkpoint…

But what’s did you do?

All of a sudden you’ll start following procedure. It goes without saying that he missed his appointment, and I think he just went back. A twenty day-old baby sick with jaundice. This happened. They didn’t let the ambulance with the baby cross the A-Zaim checkpoint, a Jerusalem checkpoint. They let her pass only after forty-five minutes. [unclear]… Another incident: In Jenin, at the Reihan checkpoint […] they didn’t allow humanitarian equipment, for example, to be transferred into Barta’a and Reihan. A truck driver who transports fruits or vegetables called me and said: “I’m coming from Jenin, I want to enter the village because the people there don’t have anything to eat.” Only at the end of the day, after he spoke with us at nine in the morning, only at a quarter to five did they allow him to cross.

A truck or a van?

He sat there for eight hours and waited and afterwards they let him cross. There were a few trucks there.

Did they inspect it?

They inspected it, but that’s not its [the checkpoint] function. They just didn’t let him cross, because it was the orders of someone, and that guy was stuck somewhere. There were very basic complaints that they didn’t open the agricultural gates. I didn’t see it as intentional but soldiers were one, two, three hours late. Meaning that a Palestinian would wait for three hours to get onto or leave his land and to get back home, and it happened more than a few times. It happens because of the negligence of the soldiers, or [the orders from] HQ, or an operation which presumably prevents soldiers from opening it. Because who opens the agricultural gates? Soldiers.

Read More on Breaking the Silence’s report:

Part I of Breaking the Silence testimonies

Joseph Dana: the moral corruption of Israeli society

Yuval Ben-Ami: The birth of tragedy from the spirit of occupation

Mairav Zonszein: BTS: the IDF’s magnum opus

Its four chapters are divided according to theme. Each theme represents a term used by the IDF to describe its policy in the Occupied Territories: “Prevention,” “Separation,” “Fabric of Life” and “Law Enforcement.” Each chapter consists of testimonials that expose the colossal cracks in each signifier and each testimonial is a conversation, a dialogue, an exploration and a revelation.

The content makes you question your surroundings, break down myths, and forces you to grapple with the subtle differences between reality and illusion, clarity and murkiness, good and evil, I and Other.

Another writer on this website said it is Breaking the Silence’s “greatest tome to date.” But it is much much more than that. It is a masterpiece, and it is not just Breaking the Silence’s but the entire Israel Defense Forces’ greatest piece of work to date. The military industry’s magnum opus. And by extension, all of Israel’s.

Read More on Breaking the Silence‘s report:

Breaking the Silence: The testimonies (part I)

Joseph Dana: the moral corruption of Israeli society

Yuval Ben-Ami: The birth of tragedy from the spirit of occupation

The collection of 101 testimonies shows the degree of control Israel has over the lives of Palestinians. Unlike previous publications by BTS, this one is not about war crimes. More than anything, the testimonies reveal the banalities of the Occupation: the roadblocks, the nightly raids, the mass arresrs and the daily humiliations which take place everywhere in the West Bank.

The book is divided into four chapters, corresponding to the four code-words given to IDF operational modes in the West Bank, “separation,” “fabric of life,” law-enforcement” and “prevention”.

The following are four testimonies reprinted in full from each section of the book (An English edition will be out soon; these testimonies are taken from an advanced copy). The testimonies are followed by links to commentary posts by +972 magazine bloggers. We will post more testimonies in the next few days.

Palestinian prisoners, 2002 (photo taken by a soldier of the armed corps. Source: Breaking the Silence)

Prevention:

Testimony 2: Stun grenades at three in the morning. Unit: Paratroopers Location: Nablus District Year: 2003

We had all kinds of situations of very dubious work in Area A [i.e. under the control of the Palestinian Authority]. If that means going in on Friday, when the market is packed, in Tubas for example, to make a checkpost – a surprise checkpoint – in the middle of the village. One time, we arrived to make a surprise checkpoint like that on Friday morning, and we started to spread out as if at a checkpoint: inspecting vehicles and every car that passed. 300 meters from us a small demonstration of kids who were throwing rocks started, but they went maybe ten meters, and weren’t hitting us. They starting cursing us and everything. At the same time people start gathering. Of course it was followed with the aiming of weapons at the kids, you can call it self-defense.

What was the point of the checkpoint?

To show the presence of the IDF inside the village. Inside the village, where the women go shopping, where the children play, just to show presence, and to enter a firefight, which within a second we didn’t know if we would get it there. In the end we got out  without  a  scratch,  without  anything  happening,  but  the  company  commander lost it. He asked one of the grenade launchers to fire a riot control grenade toward the demonstrators, the children. The grenade launcher refused, and afterwards he was treated terribly by the company commander. He didn’t receive a punishment because the  company  commander  knew  it  was  an  illegal  order,  but  he  was  treated  really disgustingly by the staff. In the end that’s how it ended. Another story was going into Tubas at three in the morning in a safari, with stun grenades and just throwing them in the street. For no reason, waking people up.

For what purpose?

“We are here. The IDF is here.” In general, they told us that some terrorist, if he were to hear the IDF presence in the village then maybe he would leave. He never left. It seems that the objective was just to show the local population that the IDF is here, and it’s a policy which repeats itself: “The IDF has here, in the territories, and we’ll make your life bitter until you decide to stop the terror.” The IDF have no problem with After the fact, the objective  was to show the local population that the IDF was there, it’s a  policy that repeats itself…“The IDF is here, in the territories, and we’ll make your life hell until you decide to stop the terit. We, the ones who were throwing the grenades didn’t understand why we were doing it. We threw agrenade. We heard the “boom” and we saw people waking up. When we got back they said to us: “Great operation,” but we didn’t understand why. It was every day. A different force from the company each time, part of the routine. Not an especially positive way of life…

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A Palestinian prisoner held at a paratroops base in the West Bank (photo: Breaking the Silence)

Separation:

Testimony 5. What is it if not a ghetto? Unit: Paratroopers Location: Qalqilya Year: 2004

As an instruction officer I would go around the tactical headquarters of the battalion commander, it was actually very interesting. The battalion commander would ask a lot of questions, talk with people. It was my first, and I think also his first, certainly my first, interaction with the separation fence. We would go around at night on a jeep, to get to know the sector, and he would ask, see that basically there are villagers that can’t cross, and it’s their work. He would stop, all of sudden see some family sitting in their yard. “Tell me, how do you get to this and that?” And they would say, “You can’t get there.” “No, but what do you mean you can’t get there? You certainly need to, so how do you get there?” “No. you don’t get there.” He would talk a lot with the residents there. Or they would close routes up on them, the central artery of some village. Just like that, the fence would close it off.

What was your reaction?

That’s something less army-related, it’s about policy, it’s the path of the fence. Again, it’s an understanding of how terrible a thing it is. Especially in Qalqilya, the area of Qalqilya, is closed on all sides and it has only one gate. Enclosed with a wall and a fence. It won’t help, what is it if not a ghetto? It’s just closed. There is one gate, maybe there are more gates. When I was there they decided, there was something, they decided there would be no more gates, that they are closing them. There is one gate through which they exit and enter the city, Qalqilya. Indeed, it’s not Nablus, but it’s a big city. Among the small ones, but it’s still a city, with a lot of residents.

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A soldier prepared for a "presence" patrol in a Palestinian village with a Casserole, used to create noise in the village. 2004, Bateer (photo: Breaking the Silence)

Fabric of Life

Testimony 16.  I made him crap his pants Unit: Border Police Location: Wadi Ara Year: 2003

The work with the population was the entertainment. At least in Katzr, I don’t know what was going on at that time in Jenin, but it was entertainment. To work with the people was…

“Working with the people” is a nice turn of phrase.

Yes. Work over. That was what there was to do. Then all of a sudden, when they built the fence there was no population. There was the Israeli population who you have to be careful with, there is Barta’a which you could still a little…

So the operations move to Barta’a?

A little more, yes. But again there was the tendency with Barta’a, they kept Barta’a for the IDF, so the work was mostly along the fence.

And when they caught someone?

Then we went in. If you capture someone then you can go in. Really the majority of the time when I saw the violence was in the period before the fence, when it was just routine. Pouring out the kids’ bags and playing with their toys. You know, to grab one and to play “keep away with their toys.”

Did the kids cry?

All the time. They cried and they were afraid. Meaning, you couldn’t miss it.

The adults cried too?

Of course, they were degraded. One of the goals was always: I got him to cry in front of his kids, I got him to crap in his pants.

You saw situations where people went to the bathroom in their pants?

Yes.

Why?

From being beaten, for the most part. Being beaten to death, and threatened, and screamed at, you are just terrified. Especially if it’s in front of your kids, they yell and threaten and scare them, so you also are scaring the kids. One time, again, there was some man we stopped with his kid, the kid was small, like four or something. They didn’t beat up the kid, but the policeman was annoyed that the adult brought the kids so they would have mercy on him. He says to him: “You bring your kid so they’ll have mercy on you, let’s show you what that is.” He goes and beats him up, screams at him, saying, “what, I’ll kill you in front of your boy, maybe you’ll feel more…” It’s terrifying. Again, there are a lot of stories of honor.

Did he piss his pants out of fear?

Yes.

In front of the boy.

Yes.  A  lot  of  stories  of  honor,  like  check  me  out,  I  got  him  to  crap,  I  got  him  to whatever. They talked about it routinely all the time, it’s not some kind of…

Where did they talk about it, in the cafeteria, in front of the officers? Was it openly?

It was openly. I think that if an officer says that he didn’t know, he’s totally lying. At the officer, the high ranking officers knew. The platoon commanders had less to do  with  it,  but  the  company  commander,  the  assistant  company  commander,  the operations officers – even encouraged it to a degree. Again, not directly, they didn’t come and say, yalla beat them up, but there was a kind of legitimization, otherwise it wouldn’t have happened. Again, it’s a fact that it happened less in Jenin, and in my opinion not just because there was less work with the population.

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Palestinian prisoners held at the back of an army vehicle near Ramallah (photo: Breaking the Silence)

Law Enforcement

Testimony 4. He is basically a civilian, and he’s telling the army what the laws are. Unit: Maglan Special Forces Location: South Hebron Hills Year: 2002

I did settlement security detail with soldiers in Eshkolot, and in another settlement nearby. It wasn’t in Eshkolot, I don’t remember what settlement it was. But when we were there, there is the settlement, and some [Palestinian] village that’s a kilometer or two away. And [the Palestinians] work their land in the area there, 500 meters away in the valley below. The settlements sits on the hilltop, and below in the valley there is some… they work the land. What I remember, it’s a little hazy, that one time they were there working the land. They come, all of a sudden [the settlers] go out – this is already past the fence of the settlement, although it was exactly where the expansion was… so we ran to where the expansion was, where it was under construction… They just yelled at them… they didn’t shoot or anything, but they ran them out of there. I don’t know if they left.

Who expelled them?

The  [settlement’s  civilian]  security  coordinator  came,  called  us,  deployed  us,  me and the soldier…“this and that, they are crossing the border, they are scouting, they are…” Like I know? In short, he yells at them, I don’t know if they left. But I remember he came, and started yelling at them: “get out of here, get out of here.” Later I go on patrol with him in the vehicle, so he sees a little girl playing at the entrance to the settlement, on the access road into the settlement but still below it, still outside the fence – it was totally not part of that settlement – but from below, in the valley. He sees a girl, I hear him yell something at her in Arabic, from the megaphone, something like “Rasak.” I didn’t understand. I go to him: what did you yell at the girl? So he goes: “If you come around here again I’ll break your head.” Something like that. The situation there is basically your commander is that civilian from the settlement who tells you what’s allowed and what’s prohibited, where they [the Palestinians] can be, where they can’t be – he gives you authorization to shoot in the air, although in principle I am the senior army commander – as senior as that is, right? – in the field he can tell them to shoot, and also, with discretion. But in principle, he delineates policy. It’s not some military authority, some company commander, an officer in the area, it’s the settlement security officer coordinator who decides what is allowed and what is prohibited. It’s a pretty funny situation when you think about it, where a civilian tells the army what its limitations are and what the laws are.”

Read More on Breaking the Silence’s report:

Joseph Dana: the moral corruption of Israeli society

Yuval Ben-Ami: The birth of tragedy from the spirit of occupation

Mairav Zonszein: BTS: the IDF’s magnum opus

As any cultured person knows, the word “tragedy” originates in the world of theatre. Ancient tragedies were plays, written in dialogue.

Contemproray tragedies are also written in dialogue, but they are not always works of poetry. The Israeli organization “Breaking the Silence” (Hebrew: “Shovrim Shtika”) is this week publishing its greatest tome to date, entitled: “Occupation of the Territories; Israeli soldiers’ testimonies, 2000-2010.”

The book’s 350 pages are filled with accounts given in Q&A form. One voice is that of a soldier, distraught with his own actions or with things he had seen while serving in the West Bank or Gaza. The other is that of a BTS activist, helping him complete the account.

All activists were once in the soldier’s own position. BTS is the voice of the IDF’s conscience. Others, here and elsewhere, will do a better job than I in describing the organization, as well as going through the collected accounts and analyzing them. Mine, as a cultural critic, is a different job. It would of course be a cynical act to treat the tome as a work of literary non-fiction and “review” it, but something has to be said of its impact on the reader, and that impact is that of a tragedy.

Allow me to translate a short portion of dialogue from beginning to end. It is one that does not even involve any killing or wounding. Its subject are orders given to soldiers as they take over houses of Palestinian families for various combat functions.

And then came the instruction: you may cause damage, but you may not steal.

What does that mean?

Because what would happen is that soldiers would simply steal.

What does that mean: “you may cause damage”?

You go in, so as far as the IDF is concerned, you may cause damage, you may cause damage for the sake of the mission. What we would do is, we would shoot couches, causing damage for the sake of the mission.

Could I tip a closet?

For the sake of the mission – yes, to make sure that there’s nothing in the clothes and there’s no one behind it. That I could do, but I was not allowed to steal.

And where does one draw the line?

This is the thing, that sometimes people would do it for fun – shooting television sets, my paratrooper friends would tell me that they would lay on rooftops in Nablus and shoot solar water tanks to see how they’d explode, or people would steal CD players and steal dollars.

When the tragedy is real, when it’s life, there’s very little need for an experienced editing hand. I’m actually not fond of how BTS edit their reports. Their records are strongly in need of footnotes for those unfamiliar with IDF lingo, and could benefit from short summaries, to be added above each dialogue.

But here I go, treating this as I would a book. This is not a book. It’s not a play. It’s life and as such it edits itself: Notice how the soldier begins with the clear order not to steal, as though pointing a limit placed on the harm done to the residents of the occupied house. Gradually it appears that the restriction is pretty much meaningless. What isn’t stolen – will be demolished by gunshots.

Finally we learn that stealing occurs nevertheless. The moral spine of the soldier, which is this short play’s tragic hero, was broken down as soon as the order was given to enter the house. Like Oedipus, who gradually picks up the details of his own disaster from strangers, the soldier himself would only confront this truth much later, when speaking to a BTS activist.

The tragedy described in the book is too long for the stage, but the avant-garde directors of the occupation heeded the challenge and are producing it in the great outdoors theatre of Palestine for 43 years now. The voices booing them are drowned by the general applause, yet the critics are there. They’re taking record of what’s happening. They are making an effort to print and bind this information and put it at the hands of the public, all in order to end this theatre of cruelty and defend the human spirit.

Read More on Breaking the Silence‘s report:

Breaking the Silence: The testimonies (part I)

Joseph Dana: the moral corruption of Israeli society

Mairav Zonszein: BTS: the IDF’s magnum opus